For a long time now, I’ve been quietly working to bring more space into the world. Specifically to typography and the em dash in particular. The en dash (–) and to a lesser degree it’s cousin the em dash (—) are some of the most misunderstood pieces of punctuation in the English language. Being a designer, I’m intimately concerned with the visual aspects of text and seeing an en dash crammed in between two words just screams, “HELP!” I find myself adding a single space on either side of the en dash consistently and repeatedly in my work. Using the em dash to separate phrases in a sentence has always seemed jarring and then to use it without any space on either side causes it to act as a hard stop on the eye of the reader. Not very pretty and not very functional.

And I’ve always thought it was just my quirky pursuit of a certain visual aesthetic. One of those quiet tasks a designer faces. A task that at first, you try to turf onto the writers through education (along with many of the other of the finer points of digital typography) but eventually resign yourself to as just part of the job.

Recently though, I came across some typography tips which expressed and reaffirmed my beliefs regarding the en and em dash. And from none other than famed typographer Erik Spiekermann in the FontShop publication, “Erik Spiekermann’s Typo Tips.” Right there in Tip #2, he summarizes the proper use of both the en and em dash and (thankfully) helps to justify all the quiet work us designers do to improve the visual appeal of the written word.

It’s nice to be in good company (and to have a resource for explanation when the curious ask why there’s a little breathing room around an en dash).

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to it. Every summer I end up working on projects that are promoting something for the winter holidays. The old phrase is “Christmas in July” and I never cease to find it weird. It may be 90+ degrees outside, but I find myself drawing snow.

Here’s some samples from this summer’s big winter project. They’re from a Sony PlayStation fourteen page booklet I designed and illustrated. I really like the way the cover came out and no one can resist Sackboy.

For an added bonus, one of the pages of the booklet got picked up in the gaming press and posted online — starting a huge debate (i.e., flame war) regarding Sony’s new motion controller.

Now, I’m am in no way a specialist in user interface design, but as a designer and more importantly as a user, I find this example to be particularly annoying.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Look closely at the positions of the “Next” and “Previous” buttons. See what I’m getting at? In our western, left to right reading world, the “Next” button should be on the right to indicate, well, the next item. Items position on the left indicate “back” or in this case “Previous”. Look at the position of the back button on your web browser. On the left, correct? And the forward button on the browser? Yeah, it’s on the right.

For someone unknown reason, the buttons used in this interface are reversed. And it’s annoying. Not that I spend time clicking the wrong button, but more that I have to actually take a second to ensure I’m clicking the correct one. It’s a small detail, but why would you go against convention and standards and make your product more confusing to use.

Some background on the example. It’s from a product called eRoom from EMC which is basically a web based content management system. The interface isn’t the only flaw — they call the Windows-only .EXE application a “plugin” and they do not yet, despite many years on the market, have a Macintosh version of the app. Mac users (such as myself and my team) can still use the CMS — but without many of the features of the full application.

This is exactly the kind of thing corporate users are forced to deal with on a regular basis. Software that seems to be missing key thinking in it’s initial design. It’s what they complain about (and I hear them). You don’t need a focus group or a board meeting to figure out that the “next” button is intuitively in the wrong position. You need a designer.

Sometimes good design is the product of true inspiration.

Sometimes good design is a matter of trial and error.

I’ve recently become acquainted with a product that I think expresses both of these in a single package of form and function.

It looks absolutely beautiful and yet still manages to function with precision.

It’s beauty was instantly apparent when I first used it. It’s function slowly revealed itself over time as time after time it worked perfectly.

It’s a Tiffany’s crystal decanter.

From the first time I filled it with a fine single malt, the reflected light from the decrative cuts and the amber liquid even impressed my wife — although like many women, she expected nothing less from a Tiffany’s product.

And as I filled, the first part of the functionality became evident. The decanter holds exactly one entire 1.75ml bottle of booze.

The function brought to my mind a sense of history as I imagined scores of well-heeled people using the decanter. The rim of the decanter, along with cradling the stopper, serves to catch the last drop of liquid and gently guide it back into the decanter. Genius — and for those of us drinkers on a budget, practical.

That little detail, that little piece of functionality won me over completely. (Sipping fine scotch while admiring it and contemplating it’s functionality didn’t hurt either.)

And I would be remiss if I didn’t thank the lovely young couple who gave us this fine Tiffany’s decanter as a wedding present, the eminent Dr. and Mrs. Robert Epstein. Thanks guys!