Spacing separates, lines join
People often draw lines to separate things. They should, instead, move the things apart.
Here is the Mac menu bar:

If you “separate” the items with lines, the effect will be the opposite:

People often draw lines to separate things. They should, instead, move the things apart.
Here is the Mac menu bar:
If you “separate” the items with lines, the effect will be the opposite:
Guy English in Debug 37 on the term “user experience”:
So user experience is abbreviated to UX. Which is just like... Fuck you, you cannot even abbreviate this correctly?
The discussion starts at 1:35:45 when Guy says he hates the term:
I’m totally with Guy on this.
Alexey Blinov has updated our app Emcee with Spotify support.
Let’s say you’ve right-clicked the Mail.app’s dock icon and want to write a new mail:
Why, why is the menu item called “Compose New Message”? Why does it say “Compose”? No sane person would ever say: “Honey, I need to compose a message”.
In every other app on Earth there is no verb before “New”. Just “New Window” in Safari. Just “New Event” in Calendar. Heck, in iMessage it is just “New Message”. Who does Apple make me spend several seconds trying to find the line I need in Mail.app? This is one of those things you cannot get used to.
With Ångström, we were thinking about a way to make the units you use most, accessible more easily.
The obvious idea would be to implement favorites. The user finds a unit he wants to convert, then taps a star. The starred units get into a special list. If a unit gets out of favour, you tap it again to remove it from the list.
But there is a problem. When you’ve got your result, you don’t want to think about adding the unit to a special list to simplify the task in the future. You want to get on with your life. Adding a unit to favorites would require discipline which most people don’t have: few people bother adding websites to Bookmarks, they just google them again and again. Nobody wants to manage their unit converter. User interface is evil.
We focused on the idea of maintaining conversion history and learning the user’s habits.
Here are the things we do:
These features let us be as helpful as we can without making the user babysit the app.
Here is my new atmospheric progressive house mix:
Guy J, Andre Sobota, Dosem, Egostereo, Marcelo Castelli and others. As usual, these are the best tracks of this particular mood that I have found over several years. Enjoy!
The popular way to make grids for your layouts is to account for gutters, like this:
The layout here is 760 pixels wide with six 100-pixel columns, five 20-pixel gutters and two 30-pixel margins.
Now, quick: what will the column width be if we increase gutters to 25 pixels?
This is an overcomplicated, highly impractical way of dealing with grids. Given the overall width and the number of columns, it is hard to calculate the column width. The width of n columns does not equal n × col width. Creating or changing such a grid a work in itself. This is nasty.
The better way is to get rid of gutters:
The layout here is 760 pixels wide with six guides at 120-pixel intervals and a 30-pixel left margin.
But wait, how do you make sure the text in adjacent colums does not collapse? Easy. You add a right padding to the containers:
This approach gives you the freedom of adjusting the paddings in relation to the font size. If your main text is twice bigger, the 20-pixel spacing will not be enough, so you can use bigger paddings for its (and only its) container:
Alternatively, you can specify the padding in relative units (i. e. 1.5 em).
Here is another example, this time without any visible guides:
On the web, you almost exclusively use flush left, so viewing the grid as a set of guides instead of as a set of columns makes sense. The only “grid” is the grid of the invisible lines by which the text is aligned. So do not mess with gutters, they are not worth your time.
You should follow me on Twitter, here
I prefer my photos’ metadata to include the correct capture time, regardless of which timezone it was taken in. But I would never spend time to figure out how to adjust the built-in clock on my camera. And even if that was easy, I would always forget to do it anyway.
So when I travel, I just take photos of clocks and then use those to adjust the capture time of the whole set. Usually there are plenty of clocks on transport systems, and, as you know, photos I take mainly have to do with transport. This one is from the London Tube:
In Lightroom, I select the whole set of photos from some trip, then choose a photo of a clock (this does not void the selection), and then I set the photo’s capture time to whatever the clock displays. This makes Lightroom adjust the capture time of all selected photos accordingly.
This method is great because it does not require any discipline: you can adjust time whenever you want. A couple of days ago I needed a photo from 2005, and it had the wrong capture time. I just found a photo of a clock in that set and corrected the whole set in a matter of seconds.
Sometimes І would notice an accidental clock or watch in some photo and just glance at the capture time. Yep, it is all right with this one from Trafalgar Square:
Obviously, the ideal camera should know the time without any action on my part, as the iPhone does. Or, better, the camera should be just an iPhone dock. But this is unfortunately not the case with my Canon.
The eternal mystery of signage design is that women on the toilet signs often have just one leg. They are all over the world:
John Siracusa’s meticulous explanations of the obvious (to you) things are charming. The latest one I took a great pleasure listening to, is on vinyl vs CD in the episode 60 of ATP:
Start listening at 1:52:04, but John’s speech starts at 1:53:35.