Sometimes I like a heavy dose of cynicism with my morning coffee.
Being a designer used to mean you drove a Benz and you could get good drugs. Now it means you own a computer. What the fuck? You start out thinking you’re going to blow people’s minds with your incredibly unique take on the beauty that surrounds us all, and by the time you actually get your career in motion you’re essentially a wedding photographer chained to a desk.
You see, your ideas don’t mean shit to the client. He couldn’t be bothered learning how to use a computer, so what he wants to do is use you as a human paintbrush. Any idea you come up with, no matter how mundane, is going to be further bastardized by his shitty Guido taste until the final result is a perfect example of everything you hate. There, you got into design as part of the solution and now you’re just another part of the problem.
For some reason I thought my jaded view of design was limited to working in Taiwan. Seems the concept of designer as secretary is universal.
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