Wow, this design is getting a bit musty. I coded it up sometime last year, probably more than nine months ago. That was before I’d really fallen into typography, so almost every scrap of text on this site is rather… default.
You know how redesigns go. Look forward to my newest iteration in about a year.
I’m also redesigning the website for The Embroidery House. Admittedly, it’s a bit crappy, right now, and somewhat unfinished.
The site was built on a set of styles and structures I built back in the early parts of 2009, when I had no clue what I was doing. I had managed to improve a few pieces of it, but it’s still large and bloated and clunky.
Layout aside, I realized the site also lacked any sort of real design philosophy—for example, keeping links out of the way by creating bands of darker and lighter colours to hide a portion of the page from scanning eyes.
I’m reading more about content strategy, thinking about design principles, and experimenting with ways to collapse much of the page structure into a few different files. I’m going to implement more speedy features, like asynchronous script loading and cache-control headers. I’ve also been meaning to try some @media queries.
I’ve found myself with an emerging frame of mind: Everything needs to be alive. The moment something you create stands still, it’s dead, and will eventually decay. Everything needs constant upkeep, and the eventual overhaul, so that it stays fresh for as long as possible.
There is no such thing as perfection. A beautiful, functional design is only as good as the spirit of the times, and will quickly feel dated. The closer you get to fashion, the easier it is for something to fall behind on the trends. Design is particularly susceptible to this quick aging.
And so: redesign. And redesign, and redesign. Keep everything sparkling, and it’ll remain in the here-and-now.