An interview with Vincent Connare, the designer of Comic Sans. Rage against the haters!
In other news, I'm having a happy college flashback creating a layout for a magazine about competitive ballroom dancing. Man, that takes me back. I still have my old smooth/standard gown, which really needs a wash, to be honest. I keep meaning to jettison it on eBay; it's just awkwardly taking up space in my apartment right now, and I don't even know if I'd ever wear it again - it's not the most flattering color on me, and last I heard, the feather trim on it is out of style. But ditching it would be admitting to myself that that period is over, and I'm a nostalgia whore and can't let go of the past.
I'll tell you one thing I don't miss, though. Searching for decent dancesport photos has brought back how godawfully garish much of it is. Gah! In my happy rosy memory I think about gliding along in slow fox trots, puffy ballgowns floating like clouds, crisp snappy turns and pivots in rumba, all that elegance and sexiness. And then I look at these photos and I remember the neon-colored dresses, rhinestones plastered to cheeks, clownish makeup, bottle tans, and rigor smiles like Joker victims. I don't know which to shudder at more - pre-teens tarted up like Las Vegas dancers for latin dancing ...or sixty-year-olds tarted up like Las Vegas dancers for latin dancing. I miss the pure grace of the movement. I don't miss the over-the-top flashiness to get judges' attention.
Say Your Piece
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