Here’s an eye-catching sign on the display window at The Bata Shoe Museum. The six letters of “CANADA” are snugly fitted together to form a gigantic footprint. What does this puzzle-like graphic say about our national identity?
I can’t get enough of that little A contained inside the D! It’s a quirky response to the fact that the D makes a good heel, but unfortunately isn’t the final letter of the word.
Imagine stomping through fresh snow with treads like this on your boots!
Honest Ed’s is a typographic wonderland. I could probably find hundreds of details to single out, but for now I’ll focus on just one, this snappy sign on the northwest corner.
I like the contrast between the high-velocity brushwork of “Canadian” and the more deliberate craftsmanship of “Souvenirs.” The s’s on either end look like they are doing their best to be serious, but there’s a barely suppressed smile in their wild curves.
And why not? Souvenir shopping should be fun, particularly at Honest Ed’s.
What I like best about this sign is the little painting of the sports car nestled  under the arch of “Auto Garage.” The tomato red line is a bit wobbly and hesitant, as if made by someone more comfortable holding a wrench than a paintbrush.
The damaged black letters appeal to me as well. All those scratches give the business name a look that’s rough, ready and real. I’m reminded of the distressed type you often see in action flick posters.
And how about that repainted phone number? On another sign it might seem klutzy, but here? Just perfect.
I don’t know what Mr. Tobacconist was smoking while he made these signs, but the results are startling.
There’s a gleeful awkwardness in the strips of neon-coloured paper and freeform lettering, a feverish devil-may-care attitude. (I love the tiny “nist” underneath “Tobacco.”)
There’s also likely some thriftiness at play. Why bother commissioning entirely new signs when you can modify existing ones?
These signs are no doubt successful in attracting attention… but is it the right kind of attention?
Once you start paying more attention to signs, you quickly notice that so many of them are warnings. Suddenly there’s a lurking catastrophe wherever you cast your eyes.
These signs are like The Boy Who Cried Wolf: we learned to ignore their hyperbole long ago.
Let their dramatic language take effect and it can be oddly poetic: Danger Water. I like the ring of that.
Have you savoured any warnings lately?
I’m not a big fan of tattoos, but tattoo parlour signs interest me. How many other businesses tempt you so blatantly with the idea that you might look different going out than you did going in?
In this case, I like the way the lettering is set against a mirrored backdrop. It’s a last-minute reminder as you enter that your appearance may be about to change.
It’s a bit like stepping into a new year. The promise of transformation is in the air. The person you are on the first of January is not the person you’ll be on December 31st.
Who will you choose to become in 2010?
I hope the year is off to a wonderful start for you!
Thanks for having a look at the beginnings of Toronto Type. I’ve been taking a break and will resume posting photos on Wednesday January 6.
Here’s to a year of seeing the world around you with fresh eyes! In 2010, may all your city strolls be graced with brilliant typography.
See you soon!
Corneil
I spotted these pictogram posters in Kensington Market earlier this week. Delightful!
I wish you the joy and peace of the holiday season!
love,
Corneil
This small sign has fascinated me for a while now. It has a tantalizing gleam that’s somehow enticing and slightly menacing at the same time. It’s attached to a door that I imagine having a reason to open.
I like to picture this as the low-key entrance to a mad scientist’s lair. One day, a rash decision to satisfy my curiosity sets off a B-movie style plot.
There are other signs on the building that indicate this is a computer-related business. And a check on their website solves the riddle of what Saved By Technology actually does.
Nevertheless, I’m tempted to concoct other stories.
“It’s a binary world,” my Dad used to say. Then, as evidence, he’d list off a bunch of opposing pairs, like on or off. Of course it would annoy me, since my own impulse was to look for a spectrum of possibilities.
But some things really are binary, like this sign: Open or Closed. Flip it around and it changes from one state to the other. If everything in life were this clear, we’d be in good shape.
This sign has been through a lot and has the battle scars to prove it! (So has my father.)
TORONTO TYPE 