tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40223313690694531252024-03-13T22:29:26.101-07:00Lucky 13! (a blog)Speculations and musings from 13creative.comJenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-23564939771280224032011-02-10T14:47:00.000-08:002011-02-10T14:47:31.754-08:0030 Day Challenge<br />
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Let me start out by saying that I have 15 minutes to write this blog post. That is not my 30 Day Challenge specifically, but it's how I'm going to initiate it.<br />
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(Okay, I just failed the first day of my first 30 Day Challenge because my office roommate just lured me away with a massive container of free sushi... I couldn't help myself! But I'm back - fresh new 15 minutes starts now!)<br />
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<b>Routine creates habit.</b> Did you know that?<br />
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(Crap, I just checked my email... this is harder than I thought! My to-do list is screaming at me...)<br />
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Apparently, say the wise-women who I am lucky enough to know, if you schedule something for 15 minutes on your calendar, every day, for 30 days, it is believed that the routine you create for yourself will eventually become habit.<br />
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This theory seems to be a 1st cousin to "fake it until you make it" and maybe a 3rd cousin once removed to "dress for the job you want, not the job you have". <br />
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So this morning, in my bi-monthly business group, we were asked to take a 30 Day Challenge of our own choosing. We had to identify something in our lives that needed attention, but that we rarely make time for.<br />
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Some of the women in my group were quick to determine their answers, knowing that they needed (wanted) to spend 15 minutes every day writing, or furthering their relationships, or getting outside for a walk, or working on their business pipeline.<br />
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For me, there were 3 items on my list:<br />
1. Exercise<br />
2. Read design and/or fashion magazines<br />
3. Work on my Semi-Custom invitations (the new business I am hoping to launch later this year).<br />
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Exercise is important, and I never have time (nor make time) for it. And exercise allows you to feel healthy, productive and calm; all which lead to being a better person/designer/mom. <br />
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Reading design and fashion magazines feels like a luxury to me, because I NEVER have time for it and the monthly issues of about 12 different periodicals pile up, like wobbly recyclable skyscrapers, in every room of my house. Plus, reading magazines is a great way to get inspired -- I love seeing what other designers have done in the world of architecture, interior design, weddings, organization, packaging, fashion, etc. I'll confess, I somehow manage to read US Weekly every time it shows up in my mailbox, but it's the only one that really isn't going to inspire me for my work!<br />
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Working on my Semi-Custom invites would help me get a head start with this new business that I have the intention of launching later this year. Starting to identify concepts I want to create, sketch out ideas, pick out color palettes, dream... this is something that I keep pushing off because "I'm too busy with work" but if I continue to be too busy I'll never launch my semi-custom concept. <br />
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While exercise is crucial, it's just going to have to wait until my next 30 Day Challenge! For now, I'm going to spend 15 minutes each and every day working on my new line of semi-custom invitations and announcements. And, wouldn't you know it... I think I'm going to need some design magazines in order to help me do it!<br />
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In a month's time, I hope to be able to share some wonderful progress and news, but for now my 15 minutes is up and I have to get back to my real to-do list! <br />
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If you were going to make one of your routines a habit, what would it be? And, most importantly, what would making this decision (making this 'thing' a habit) do for you?<br />
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30 Day Challenge, Day 1. Check!<br />
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<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-48919982674058423832011-01-06T10:32:00.000-08:002011-01-06T10:35:47.916-08:00What's In A Name?<br />
I was born in 1975. My parents were fairly certain that I was going to be an "Abby Michelle" or "Michelle Abby" but at the last minute, "Jennifer Allison" won out.<br />
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I think this must have been happening all around the country because in 1975, it is statistically proven that 99.7% of all baby girls were named Jennifer.*<br />
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<i>*That statistic was conveniently procured & created by me, about one minute ago, but my art-school math is <b>solid</b> when it comes to being very exact and scientific about things. I would like to credit the Pulitzer prize winning, new york times bestselling, smash hit, naming book of 1988 titled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Jennifer-Jason-Enlightened-Naming/dp/031210426X">"Beyond Jennifer & Jason: The new Englightened Guide To Naming Your Baby</a>" for my bold assessment. Also, I should just note, that my brother's name is Jason. I tell no lies!</i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">At any rate, I was Jennifer Allison White, until I married Brad Topliff, and became Jennifer White Topliff. Unfortunately my new last name offers it's own set of challenges (I get mail to Jenn Topliss every day, no matter how many times I say "f as in frank, f as in frank") but I'm still stuck with Jennifer. </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I'm getting to the point, I promise!</span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Being that I was not the only Jennifer in my class/grade/school, I was one of those kids who was always referred to by both her first and last name. I was never just "Jenn" or "Jenny". If I called someone and told them it was Jenn or Jenny on the line, they'd likely have to think for 17 minutes about all the Jenns, and Jennys they knew, to figure out which one I was. So my <b>whole</b> life I was always either "Jenn White" or "Jenny White". </span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">When you go to <a href="http://www.starbucks.com/">Starbucks</a>, and order a drink, they ask you for your first name to put on the cup. This is to avoid having to call out "Double Tall Soy 1-Splenda Latte" at the top of their lungs. Instead, they call out your (likely short) name and you know your drink is ready and the day can proceed! However, when you are at Starbucks, and someone puts a coffee drink on the bar and calls out "Jenn, your drink is ready" - do you know what happens? It's like the running of the bulls in Italy... 1,453 Jenn's rush the espresso bar and try to pick up the same drink. I kid you not. It's hard to get out of that fight unscathed, and with your espresso drink in tact.</span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">So, my good friend Matt once suggested that I pick "a Starbucks name". His criteria for this name was:</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">a) it had to be easily identifiable </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">b) it had to be unique</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">c) and most importantly, it had to be easy to say & spell for the person taking the drink order</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">It didn't take long for me & Matt to agree that "Lincoln" was the perfect Starbucks name for me.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">For one, it was my dog's name (who I love and adore) and if someone called out "Lincoln" I was already used to turning around, assuming they were talking to me. So I wasn't going to stand idly by, while the barista at Starbucks called "Lincoln" over and over again, not realizing he was talking to me! Secondly, the name Lincoln isn't too common - so running into multiple Lincolns inline for coffee was probably not going to be an issue. Thirdly, and most importantly, Matt said... "everyone knows how to spell Lincoln because he was the President". It was beautiful and logical and from that moment on I became "Lincoln" every time I ordered my coffee, or needed to give a name to a lunch order, takeout meal, etc.</span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Matt was right about almost everything... the name is awesome, unique and I never have to compete with anyone else for my drinks. </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">But I always laugh my pants off when someone at Starbucks writes my name as they do below - which <b>SOOOO SADLY</b> happens more frequently that you'd imagine!</span></i><br />
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<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-27261652869260613132011-01-03T17:53:00.000-08:002011-01-03T17:54:01.724-08:00Celebrity Wedding!<b><br /></b><br />
<b>How do you keep a monkey in suspense?</b><br />
<b>I'll tell you tomorrow.</b><br />
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I've been waiting months and months and months to be able to share a little secret. In fact, nearly a year now.<br />
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As some of you know, I *might* have been involved in designing a celebrity wedding invitation, in recent past.<br />
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While none of the exquisitely beautiful work (if I do say so myself!) has been documented yet, I thought I'd let the cat out of the bag slowly... <br />
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Here a few pics from Australia's <a href="http://au.lifestyle.yahoo.com/new-idea/news/article/-/8318925/greg-and-kirsten-our-romantic-wedding/">New Idea magazine</a> to get the curiosity ball rolling!<br />
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Pics, and blog posts, and fanfare (of my own making!) to follow shortly.<br />
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<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-4765267687952645992011-01-02T14:12:00.000-08:002011-01-02T14:14:14.077-08:00Macaroons!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At some point over the last few months, I developed an obsession to perfect the Macaroon. Not the newfangled sensation, the <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/parisian-macaroons">Parisian macaroon</a>. But rather the old-school, kosher for passover, coconut Macaroon!<br />
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This obsession turned more than a few days of proposed "cookie-making with the kids" into more of a "touch my batter and I'll kill you" sort of experience! But what resulted from my many, many attempts to mix the 5 necessary ingredients in just the right quantities, is a sumptuous, ooey-gooey, not too sweet (but just sweet enough!) mound of coconuty goodness. Dipped in chocolate, of course, for that dark velvety contrast in every bite!<br />
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I'm feeling generous in this new year, and thought I would share my findings with my readers (and the 30 other people that have already asked for the recipe!!)<br />
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Wishing you all a sweet new year.<br />
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<b><u>Jenn Topliff's Smashed Haystacks </u></b><br />
<b>(aka: Coconut Macaroons)</b><br />
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You will need:<br />
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2 large eggs<br />
1/2 cup granulated white sugar<br />
1/8 teaspoon salt<br />
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract<br />
2 cups flaked or shredded, sweetened coconut (I prefer flaked, and buy the packaged, private label brand at Safeway. It is usually on sale, and very inexpensive.)<br />
1 cup unsweetened coconut (I buy it in bulk, at Whole Foods)<br />
1 bag Guittard or Ghiradelli semi-sweet chocolate chips (this is optional)<br />
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1. Preheat oven to 350º F and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.<br />
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2. In a large metal bowl whisk the eggs (using a whisk or a fork) until well beaten. Stir in the sugar, salt and vanilla, and mix well. Finally, stir in the coconut (both sweetened & unsweetened) and mix the ingredients together until you are certain that all the coconut is completely moistened.<br />
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3. Using a small ice-cream scoop (or tablespoon measure), scoop densely-packed mounds of the macaroon batter onto the baking sheets lined with parchment paper. I usually fit about 8 macaroons on one baking sheet, but your baking sheet might be larger/smaller! Just make sure that you leave at least 2" in between each macaroon. If using an ice-cream scoop to form your macaroons, use the back of the scoop to smash down the top of the mounds a little bit, before baking. In my testing, this seems to help make them cook a little more evenly in my oven, and results in less burnt coconut on top.<br />
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4. Bake for 15-20 minutes, until the coconut is a little toasted (but be careful, they can go from toasted to burnt quickly, if you don't keep a close eye!)<br />
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5. Remove from the oven and let cool for at least 20-30 mins.<br />
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If you want to dip the bottoms of your macaroons in chocolate, you will need to melt your chocolate slowly, while your cookies are cooling. A double boiler is fine to use, but I normally use a stainless steel mixing bowl, over a small saucepan filled with about 2"-3" of water.<br />
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Bring water in saucepan to a boil and place mixing bowl (or double boiler) on top of pan. Reduce heat under the saucepan to medium-low. Pour the chocolate chips into the mixing bowl and stir constantly, using a wooden spoon or silicone, heat-proof spatula. When chocolate is completely melted and silky smooth, it is ready to use.<br />
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Lay a sheet of parchment paper down on your work surface (any table, countertop or cutting board will do). Working quickly (so the macaroons don't fall apart in your hand) dip the bottom of each macaroon in chocolate, then place firmly down onto the clean parchment paper. Let chocolate harden, before transferring cookies.<br />
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I have not done any tests on refrigerating the cookies vs. keeping them out to cool/harden. I also haven't tested whether putting them in tupperware, tin foil or ziploc baggies is the best way to store them (but I have used all three methods with rather similar outcomes!)<br />
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So bake away, and enjoy my version of this timeless treat! Oh, and be sure to let me know how they turn out!<br />
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<br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-56924764602553192882010-12-07T10:01:00.000-08:002010-12-07T10:03:50.234-08:00Best Mail Ever. Seriously, EVER!<br />
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It is likely that in a box, in the basement, under the stairs, underneath another box, is a piece of mail that changed my life forever. <br />
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In this box, in the basement, under the stairs, underneath another box, is a pile of illustrations, photos and mail that I collected, and coveted, while working at my first 'real' job out of school. I worked for a company called SBG and we designed super big, commercial packaging and branding programs for companies like Starbucks, Nestle, Aquafresh, Nestle and Nestle! Did I mention Nestle?<br />
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Anyway, back in the day (in the late 90's) we used to get bombarded with direct mail from illustrators and photographers who thought we had the ability to hire them for potential jobs. Being that we worked for companies like, say... Nestle, we usually weren't able to do anything too creative, awesome or otherwise - so it was rare that we got to hire a new, fantastic illustrator for a project. But that didn't stop the mail from coming. Every day, envelopes and postcards arrived at my desk, and it was great. For someone like me, who loves mail so much, this was a real treat! <br />
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One day, the most amazing thing happened. Amidst a pile of glossy postcards with mediocre illustrations, there was a smallish, flat glassine bag with my name on it, sewn shut with red thread. You could sort of see through the glassine material, enough to see that there was a stack of postcards with beautiful images on them, but I can't tell you what was on the postcards because I never opened the envelope! <br />
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At this point in my life, <a href="http://www.bakeitpretty.com/item_379/Glassine-Bags-in-6-Sizes.htm">glassine</a> only meant one thing to me: cookie or candy bags. In fact, I learned about glassine bags thanks to my very dear friend DB, who redesigned See's candy packaging for a class in school. She introduced me to this beautiful, milky white, semi-translucent material that was great for packaging because the wax coating on it ensured that cookies or candies wouldn't stain it with oil, like they would a paper bag, for example.<br />
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Anyway, this glassine bag/envelope sewn shut with red thread was pretty much the most amazing thing I had seriously ever received. It was SO different from everything else. It was a quiet powerful. It was intriguing and engaging. And I couldn't bring myself to open it. I didn't want to disrupt the beauty of the package. I put the glassine bag on my wall and stared at it. Every day. <br />
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Lucky for the woman who sent me the bag, she was smart enough to put her name on the outside of the envelope! In all caps trade gothic (a font) she wrote her name; <a href="http://leighwells.com/">Leigh Wells</a>. Who was this woman of mystery? Who was this woman of mystery who had sent me the first piece of eye-opening, thought-provoking mail I ever received?<br />
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As it turns out, Leigh Wells was an incredible illustrator. She didn't know me, so she never knew that I pitched her illustrations to my bosses for every single project I worked on! She didn't know that her little mail affected me that much, and that I spent months and months designing around her artwork, so that I could HOPEFULLY reciprocate the awesomeness of her mail, and hire her to do a job for me. <br />
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Cut to December 2010. Sitting at my computer, designing some fabulous wedding invitation or something - likely being sent out in some sort of bag, sewn shut with thread (hypothetically speaking) and I get an email from one of my <a href="http://www.jak-home.com/">favorite interior design stores</a> in San Francisco. Notice anything amazing?<br />
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What? An opening for Leigh Wells? What? On Polk Street? Around the corner from where I lived for the last 10 years (before moving last year)? <b>W H A T ?</b> Within 90 seconds I had a babysitter lined up, and had explained to Brad that I would be MIA on December 2nd, and that he should freeze all my bank accounts for 24 hours surrounding the opening!!</div>
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I wouldn't say I was nervous, but I was a little anxious. I was going to meet this woman who truly changed my life forever; changed my career path, affected me with her beautiful design and pictures and made me want to send mail that engaged my clients as much as hers inspired me. I showed up to the opening and saw a trio of people congratulating a lovely blonde woman - who I assumed to be Leigh. I couldn't contain myself, and walked over to interrupt the conversation and profess my undying love to her, and her piece of mail from 1999!</div>
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Turns out, Leigh's studio was all of 1.5 blocks from my where I used to live. Turns out, too, that she's as lovely in person as she was in my mind! And even better than that, she told me what she was up to (still mailing out beautiful pieces every now and again) and how her art has evolved over the last 10+ years. Her work is stunningly beautiful - both her commercial design/illustrations as well as her more fine art pieces. I enjoyed seeing her work, meeting her, and totally dorking out on being her biggest fan. </div>
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Have any of you ever received a piece of mail that inspired you, or affected you positively? I'd love to hear about it!</div>
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Alright, this blog post must conclude - because I am feeling inspired just talking about my little glassine bag mail and feel a new invitation concept coming on! Thank you Leigh Wells... thank you. Some of Leigh's work is below, but you can also check out <a href="http://leighwells.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-gainsborough.html">her blog</a> for a complete showcase of the pieces I saw last week (and her other more recent work).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAefqsC8A7ucV1DM5Kji-42FMZCSNwSGD5IxsQhqMj56zetB29plTO1N2TBO5yMGxq3QzSnzlFxpFcIqUAOlYTO-xXX6EHyjlj7vRGuLMEMrzTlfmmvUaYRTyZ2YFeJBh-DGOEsQb5tqR_/s1600/Picture+158.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAefqsC8A7ucV1DM5Kji-42FMZCSNwSGD5IxsQhqMj56zetB29plTO1N2TBO5yMGxq3QzSnzlFxpFcIqUAOlYTO-xXX6EHyjlj7vRGuLMEMrzTlfmmvUaYRTyZ2YFeJBh-DGOEsQb5tqR_/s400/Picture+158.png" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>*All art published with Leigh Wells' permisson</i></span></div>
<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-14617591710692647882010-11-17T15:49:00.001-08:002010-11-17T15:57:16.972-08:00I Have Gang Connotations?<div>
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Earlier this year 13 Creative leased it's very first 'Company Car'! How exciting, no?<br />
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When my license plates arrived in the mail a few weeks after I got the car, I was pretty bummed out... not a 13 in sight! Usually, as <b>luck</b> would have it, there is some version of the number 13 in the addresses of the places I live or work, or my license plates, drivers license number, health-insurance card, you name it! I might be a total nerd, but I love finding my lucky number anywhere I can.<br />
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It could be the number 13, or it could be a 4 & 9 (next to each other) or some other combination of numbers that add up to 13. I don't discriminate... if it adds up to 13, it's good by me!<br />
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Sensing the disappointment about my lackluster license plate, a friend suggested that I get a personalized license plate for my new ride. "Maybe it could even say 13 Creative" she said! I thought it was a fantastic idea and immediately wanted to share this news with Brad (husband, 13 Creative cheerleader, fanclub manager and chief cook and bottle washer!)<br />
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When I told Brad about this genius plan, he looked troubled. He told me that there was no way I was going to be able to register a license plate that said 13 Creative. I asked why, and that's when he told me...<br />
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(wait for it, wait for it)<br />
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... that he'd already applied for that license plate for me, the week I got the new car! Surprise!!<br />
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Several weeks passed and no plates showed up, but one day a letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles arrived. The letter informed us that the DMV needed more information in order to approve our request for these plates. Apparently, the license plate 13CRE8V seemed questionable. Questionable? Huh?<br />
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So, Brad responded to the letter and attached one of my business cards, with a further explanation of my business, reiterating that this license plate spelled my company name, and that it didn't mean anything more than that. And then we waited. Waited and waited... still no plates.<br />
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Well, another letter arrived from the DMV today.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Dear Jennifer and Brad Topliff:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">We have received and reviewed your letter of explanation, requesting the approval of license plate "13CRE8V".<br /><br />Upon review, we are remaining with our original determination that the configuration is unacceptable. The number '13' has gang connotations.<br /><br />The California Vehicle Code, Section 5105 (a) states we must refuse any license plate configuration, which carries connotations offensive to good taste and decency, or which may be misleading to some of our citizens.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Thank you for your interest.</span></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-31801950851901386742010-11-07T12:56:00.000-08:002010-11-07T12:56:38.527-08:00The Real & The Fake Real<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sjF2dbuu40R-PBWUT6SUovo0CyI8BIaJywljEHzk0Y47x8y-nYgJ14RCpuAgr294dlhLl-dyN4zpqT7q1I0lPg-mzri_GVWXII4_cMmZPbBS-NPDdZDNvlSi0czaoSi-471UUbh54Th0/s1600/BeforeAfter_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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Not long ago, I hired a photographer to shoot some of my recently completed wedding invitations and announcements.<br />
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When I'm not designing wedding invitations and announcements, you can usually find me hard at work designing food packaging and other more commercial design projects. When art directing photoshoots for food packages, the shoots are really challenging because food doesn't usually stand up well under the heat of the lights so you have to work very closely with the food stylists to achieve a result where the food you're shooting actually looks delicious and appealing! And, to be honest, a lot of food products just don't photograph well at all, so you have to use alternative food items, or non-food items that look like actual food... which makes things even trickier. I'll tell you this - never once has a piece of grilled chicken actually been grilled in order to get those perfect grill marks you see in photos. They don't come from anything even resembling a grill, I promise you that!<br />
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But I digress; and luckily enough for me, wedding invitations and paper products do stand up to the heat of the lights!<br />
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While I was overseeing this photoshoot of my work on this particular day, and while the photographer was setting up a few of the shots, I took some quick pictures with my iPhone to document our work process. It wasn't until after I got the final professional pictures back that I marveled at how fun it would be to do a side-by-side comparison of what some of the pictures looked like 'behind the scenes' versus what the camera actually sees and what turns into finished photography.<br />
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The pictures are beautiful, and I am so happy - but it's really funny to think about what's "really real", versus what's sort of "fake real". One of my favorite quotes (that I think I made up myself!) is <b>"Perception is reality"</b> and I think it sums this up perfectly.<br />
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So, without further ado, here are the ol' before & afters... or Reals & Fake Reals!<br />
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PROJECT 1 (iPhone before)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oJK3KQbgHp-6yhXrCPEMbiSleBRHz3U_3ZKsBJg1CsPraYyQX3G1G1YtC1aZ_jjPJh_2VNoKMWw1jRw5H6HpGNTB2XdDk6rAYwmzBp2cWHOUaU1o1tBusWT3kEg5hpa8hgenJrK5K72m/s1600/BeforeAfter_01.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="297" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532444463040810914" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oJK3KQbgHp-6yhXrCPEMbiSleBRHz3U_3ZKsBJg1CsPraYyQX3G1G1YtC1aZ_jjPJh_2VNoKMWw1jRw5H6HpGNTB2XdDk6rAYwmzBp2cWHOUaU1o1tBusWT3kEg5hpa8hgenJrK5K72m/s400/BeforeAfter_01.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="400" /></a><br />
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PROJECT 1 (professional after)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5gwMW3Eru3JmOHz6tx-W9IgnrrXD-K40-GB4AwqiXyIV7IRtFNGcYpLqp5REw5S9RGZaccG_d7X10wL1qs4T56uljBXWRvLhuFbyuQ69N2iaxKxniigMLRmEBtUsNcUbDOEwr7rWzeQB/s1600/BeforeAfter_01a.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="276" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532444468162222562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5gwMW3Eru3JmOHz6tx-W9IgnrrXD-K40-GB4AwqiXyIV7IRtFNGcYpLqp5REw5S9RGZaccG_d7X10wL1qs4T56uljBXWRvLhuFbyuQ69N2iaxKxniigMLRmEBtUsNcUbDOEwr7rWzeQB/s400/BeforeAfter_01a.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="400" /></a> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGvXuU6riJy0LaogSuGCr83Nt8zfdcIjUvhEJt9Es2TGgILRCbR8evXGyZE9BeBNQ_f-QXz3CpND9KkF997SN3ex3JzVHUGFHG1cFwzdaHHhblPy-wsUnLxo_LYKvrFCU9EHNqtucJwco/s1600/BeforeAfter_01b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGvXuU6riJy0LaogSuGCr83Nt8zfdcIjUvhEJt9Es2TGgILRCbR8evXGyZE9BeBNQ_f-QXz3CpND9KkF997SN3ex3JzVHUGFHG1cFwzdaHHhblPy-wsUnLxo_LYKvrFCU9EHNqtucJwco/s400/BeforeAfter_01b.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5gwMW3Eru3JmOHz6tx-W9IgnrrXD-K40-GB4AwqiXyIV7IRtFNGcYpLqp5REw5S9RGZaccG_d7X10wL1qs4T56uljBXWRvLhuFbyuQ69N2iaxKxniigMLRmEBtUsNcUbDOEwr7rWzeQB/s1600/BeforeAfter_01a.jpg"><br />
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PROJECT 2 (iPhone before)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X3qN_vokBGr4SsnVF_Hsi5jTuj1HSHQCCFKDZoXNKepSluiUouRXjQ45QB-xaCB5dheEK9Y0YkO4cZ30JS8CX70ClUE7VwkePMALpxrvJoj5nFZrjGY6dhPVCL24QYklpdN4tqjnlK1_/s1600/BeforeAfter_02.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532444481588051458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X3qN_vokBGr4SsnVF_Hsi5jTuj1HSHQCCFKDZoXNKepSluiUouRXjQ45QB-xaCB5dheEK9Y0YkO4cZ30JS8CX70ClUE7VwkePMALpxrvJoj5nFZrjGY6dhPVCL24QYklpdN4tqjnlK1_/s400/BeforeAfter_02.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="300" /></a><br />
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PROJECT 2 (professional after)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KsxWXq04HJDzn_0xXppTlx38U0DpPMraCdy0cnjupg25T_ybLgFZMcWy37GI_apgoFi7LmI80QxhE4rCB0L7OeAG8nvqLS5m5BKJ0C4AmMsjMc4bk3drYPZRicZlkiY5zg8h4FMu50jZ/s1600/BeforeAfter_02a.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="289" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532444488887846578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KsxWXq04HJDzn_0xXppTlx38U0DpPMraCdy0cnjupg25T_ybLgFZMcWy37GI_apgoFi7LmI80QxhE4rCB0L7OeAG8nvqLS5m5BKJ0C4AmMsjMc4bk3drYPZRicZlkiY5zg8h4FMu50jZ/s400/BeforeAfter_02a.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="400" /></a><br />
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PROJECT 3 (iPhone before)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sjF2dbuu40R-PBWUT6SUovo0CyI8BIaJywljEHzk0Y47x8y-nYgJ14RCpuAgr294dlhLl-dyN4zpqT7q1I0lPg-mzri_GVWXII4_cMmZPbBS-NPDdZDNvlSi0czaoSi-471UUbh54Th0/s1600/BeforeAfter_03.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8sjF2dbuu40R-PBWUT6SUovo0CyI8BIaJywljEHzk0Y47x8y-nYgJ14RCpuAgr294dlhLl-dyN4zpqT7q1I0lPg-mzri_GVWXII4_cMmZPbBS-NPDdZDNvlSi0czaoSi-471UUbh54Th0/s400/BeforeAfter_03.jpg" width="336" /></a><br />
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PROJECT 3 (professional after)<br />
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</div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-33148841525909169632010-11-03T10:34:00.000-07:002010-11-03T10:34:12.477-07:00A White White Wedding!<br />
In 1994 I graduated highschool, and moved to Chicago to attend <a href="http://www.saic.edu/">The School of The Art Institute of Chicago</a>. While at school there, studying bookbinding and papermaking (and sort of attempting to be in the graphic design program) I made a good friend named Sara.<br />
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Sara and I were great pals... we had a lot in common and were in love with the same things; namely art and paper products. And boy, did we know how to make a good mess! Papermaking is not exactly a neat and tidy process. Nor a dry one! So we would spend days in wet, messy clothes, making beautiful paper and binding it into precious books.<br />
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One day Sara and I were talking about how we wanted to live when we "grew up." We both decided that when we graduated school and had a real "life", with a real apartment, that we each wanted to have a "white room" in our homes. A room that was so clean, and organized, and white! The white room symbolized so much to us - it symbolized a sort of success. The success of having our own place, of having a place that was clean, that was minimalist, but that was uber design savvy. It meant being a stylish grownup. It was the opposite of how we lived as students.<br />
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We talked about our white rooms ad nauseum! Then Sara moved to Japan (to teach english and further study Japanese papermaking techniques) and I moved to Pasadena to <s>continue</s> restart my graphic design education at <a href="http://www.artcenter.edu/accd/index.jsp">Art Center.</a><br />
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Over the next several years, Sara and I had a pretty awesome penpal-ship! We would write fantastic letters and send awesome packages to each other around the globe, and every now and again, Sara would send me magazine clippings of some furniture or home decor that she saw, that we had to put into our white room! Our fantasy white room kept growing and evolving, never too far from our minds.<br />
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I'm a very lucky girl... because after living in nearly every corner of Europe & many different cities in America, my very dear, longtime pal Sara recently moved to California, and lives no more than approximately 2 miles away from me. At our advanced age of 35 (!), and now each with 2 kids, we have the knowledge and understanding that our dream of having a white room is likely never going to come true. But that doesn't stop Sara from clipping out pictures of our fantasy white furniture when she comes across great ideas in magazines. And it doesn't stop us from talking about our fantasy white room... and what a funny fantasy that is nowadays! We both tend to end our white room discussions with "One day Jenn..." or "One day Sara..." and attempt to keep the dream alive, holding out hope for some time after the kids grow up, and are out of the house... when the words "please don't color on the walls" aren't part of our everyday vocabulary!<br />
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Anyway, that's a long preamble to help you get into my head, so that you can imagine how I felt when I saw an email in my inbox this morning, from the Martha Stewart Wedding magazine people, talking about white centerpieces, and other white components for a "White Wedding!" <br />
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Wow! This is like the ultimate realization of Sara's & my white room fantasy. And, you could even achieve this while having kids at home! This concept doesn't even require a cleaning lady every day to keep things white, and or a furniture budget of $100k!! This would be a fantastic way to bring to life our white room by way of a party (wedding or otherwise!)<br />
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So, here are some of the great pictures, courtesy of <a href="http://www.marthastewartweddings.com/">Martha Stewart Weddings Idea of the Day</a>, of ways to make your party white! I think this could get a little overdone if all the guests wore white, but imagine how festive, chic and gorgeous this would be if you requested guests to wear bright colors! <br />
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Gotta go now - have to call Sara and tell her that we have a new, slightly modified white fantasy to start clipping pictures for!<br />
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<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-5791471353210565322010-10-30T15:44:00.000-07:002010-10-30T15:45:34.861-07:00The Pigeon Doesn't Realize How Long It Takes To Make A Pigeon Costume!<br />
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Up until Brad nearly lost his marbles recently, and insisted on a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cat_in_the_Hat">new bedtime story</a> to read to Grace, Grace was usually very quick to pick one of her many "Pigeon" books for daddy to read to her every night. Each and every single night!<br />
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The Pigeon book series is a fantastic collection of books written and illustrated by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mo_Willems">Mo Willems</a>. The Pigeon, and his friend Duckling, often find themselves in a bit of a power struggle... over things like driving a bus, eating a hot dog, or staying up late! You know, every day Pigeon & Duckling argument stuff!<br />
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In the case of "Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus", the bus driver says very clearly on the first page of the book "Whatever you do, DON'T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS". Then, on the next page, the Pigeon looks directly into the reader's eyes and says "Can I drive the bus?" While most children would answer "NO" (just like the bus driver told them to) Grace usually didn't follow orders so well and was <b>eager</b> to give the Pigeon all the bus-driving freedom in the world. She would shout out "Sure, Ok!" when the Pigeon pleaded his case.<br />
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Being that we were reading the Pigeon books every night, and Grace had mastered his bus-driving pleas, we thought it would be a great halloween costume for her. We also thought (back then, when apparently I didn't have anything else going on in my life) that Hazel could be the Duckling, Lincoln could be the Hot Dog, and maybe Brad could be the Bus Driver. <br />
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Anyway, seeing as how I only had about 42 projects on my plate, was learning Spanish at night, and was trying to be super human, I decided to buy a new sewing machine, take sewing lessons, learn how to sew, and MAKE the above-mentioned costumes.<br />
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So, I bought a new amazing <a href="http://www.brother-usa.com/HomeSewing/modeldetail.aspx?PRODUCTID=NS40">sewing machine</a>. I took lessons from the amazing Sherri at <a href="http://www.aaavacsew2.com/">AAA Sewing & Vacuum in San Mateo</a> (free sewing machine lessons for life if you buy a sewing machine from them) and 6 weeks + many trips to Joann Fabric later, I finished my first ever costume.<br />
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My eyes were much bigger than my stomach, and the Hot Dog, Duckling and Bus Driver are all going to have to fend for themselves tomorrow night — but Grace debuted her Pigeon costume at the Preschool Halloween party last night and it was a big hit. It would have probably been a bigger hit had the hat not been such of an issue (read: if Grace would have kept the hat on for more than 3 seconds!) but I'm very proud of my accomplishment and am sharing it with all of you as a pseudo 'pat on the back' to myself!<br />
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<u><b>MY HOW TO</b></u><br />
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I started with a toddler duck costume that I found online, for really cheap. I laid out the duck costume onto my own fleece fabric and traced it; making my own pattern pieces. I then sewed, ripped apart and re-sewed all the pieces together. A few times! I had to make the Pigeon 'tail' removable, so that Grace could sit down if she wanted, so I made a separate triangle pillow, stuffed it, sewed it shut, and then sewed velcro on it so that it could attach easily to the rear of the body.<br />
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Truthfully, the costume really only looks good in profile, but I'm gonna just be proud that I finished something that actually resembled the Pigeon and that didn't disintegrate within 5 minutes of wearing it!<br />
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Here is a feast for your eyes (and if you don't have this story for your kids, run out to get it - it's a really fantastic read!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYUT5NzhUtydienpKJsPIdJKqmkdCfo6602EdL5DI_nFNUd9Nyc0-UHIcYH83_3Ai35jKHJIiooExUkrUnlMF_qzltI77sEsUkKXsSM41f1zjSq0F9cu2MwuPOn5bPUiM6oTeaumEOH_n/s1600/PigeonCostume_make_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYUT5NzhUtydienpKJsPIdJKqmkdCfo6602EdL5DI_nFNUd9Nyc0-UHIcYH83_3Ai35jKHJIiooExUkrUnlMF_qzltI77sEsUkKXsSM41f1zjSq0F9cu2MwuPOn5bPUiM6oTeaumEOH_n/s400/PigeonCostume_make_01.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>The Pigeon costume components in all their glory!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQH8EuOe45hoQCZABpW-3cVHiO-cVXLeEW_6KAeJBwbR97ToZ5XLlloHBXeHqM27FfKCFFKybqA5YlPtgdgrb8gWZy-0X1yODVTOj7Z71plZgbJYmqu0MSKjlqUV6dysu7ElQ81h6pER7l/s1600/PigeonCostume_make_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQH8EuOe45hoQCZABpW-3cVHiO-cVXLeEW_6KAeJBwbR97ToZ5XLlloHBXeHqM27FfKCFFKybqA5YlPtgdgrb8gWZy-0X1yODVTOj7Z71plZgbJYmqu0MSKjlqUV6dysu7ElQ81h6pER7l/s400/PigeonCostume_make_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>The Pigeon head/hat</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgourhKJXhrUq-zfGGTHozTW2t-t2LWn7PlJI1wDhpxvLn6vcD5Ccd2XeMGr_U2O_bhV6wkxPlD5Lgn43TbJ4LyWZoTMud1OlURdLX1OnYay0dx3JP5L4s9zwFGYR_ePZK2W2seOXJXIUr3/s1600/PigeonCostume_make_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgourhKJXhrUq-zfGGTHozTW2t-t2LWn7PlJI1wDhpxvLn6vcD5Ccd2XeMGr_U2O_bhV6wkxPlD5Lgn43TbJ4LyWZoTMud1OlURdLX1OnYay0dx3JP5L4s9zwFGYR_ePZK2W2seOXJXIUr3/s400/PigeonCostume_make_04.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>It turned out that 2 little pieces of velcro wasn't enough to hold on the tail at first, <br />so a last minute addition of a long strip of velcro, along the entire width <br />of the tail, was necessary!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGRnLVc1oPys58lgkGygwbgjuHUFjZQjSW3kfhs4S-1Y2OJko8nfzNkLUNH6cTQAEv_tNuNObp5kfFA3TojXuJWrJc2DPGAJSmr0vc0K3zf-p0_D4jxiMgX6q-mgjJ1KG01pvk0Ht-qLq/s1600/G_Pigeon_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqGRnLVc1oPys58lgkGygwbgjuHUFjZQjSW3kfhs4S-1Y2OJko8nfzNkLUNH6cTQAEv_tNuNObp5kfFA3TojXuJWrJc2DPGAJSmr0vc0K3zf-p0_D4jxiMgX6q-mgjJ1KG01pvk0Ht-qLq/s400/G_Pigeon_01.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Grace modeling her costume at preschool, before the party.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_BufRRD7WpsGCATJv6lNT2a-uyAnA4rZtsJKPFk5bDGpjv67A-wgjnzQUfsJ0RpDHyJQr3JhLkjbqlVGiLWgmq6Wc5cPPm7YR-hESaPOaGnE9-9X5_x75anr3kOne6cGlgN8HbpJr34L/s1600/G_Pigeon_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_BufRRD7WpsGCATJv6lNT2a-uyAnA4rZtsJKPFk5bDGpjv67A-wgjnzQUfsJ0RpDHyJQr3JhLkjbqlVGiLWgmq6Wc5cPPm7YR-hESaPOaGnE9-9X5_x75anr3kOne6cGlgN8HbpJr34L/s400/G_Pigeon_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Grace realizing her tail was 'removable' (aka: the first of approximately <br />108 times that she removed her tail during the course of the night!)</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibeumhgWR5B_MqPzvY-ony2q-Ki3GWciHpf1rsegTXEngKVTg8OhxZbqObqeYfNrwY7lGm7RecRDUrxBjnI-uVYw_-YKExeiEttfynMSp6_cZHN1xZvLFpvQ-dbcD3-mh32YaWVRVdJQKx/s1600/G_Pigeon_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibeumhgWR5B_MqPzvY-ony2q-Ki3GWciHpf1rsegTXEngKVTg8OhxZbqObqeYfNrwY7lGm7RecRDUrxBjnI-uVYw_-YKExeiEttfynMSp6_cZHN1xZvLFpvQ-dbcD3-mh32YaWVRVdJQKx/s400/G_Pigeon_03.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>The Pigeon shakes her booty!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLgNHb6JHhbIPonqzVl4mG9gfRZh0R9B2sdfMjStAxH4MMH7DFnk1yQP-H-D_NsbmAdKw-6z6FM8NNyvpMlNCDIlKLmWhsZV03THk3FcQQDx9d9bG7dmzpTIUCwHX5sxp4RvCe2m3V_ac/s1600/G_Pigeon_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLgNHb6JHhbIPonqzVl4mG9gfRZh0R9B2sdfMjStAxH4MMH7DFnk1yQP-H-D_NsbmAdKw-6z6FM8NNyvpMlNCDIlKLmWhsZV03THk3FcQQDx9d9bG7dmzpTIUCwHX5sxp4RvCe2m3V_ac/s400/G_Pigeon_04.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Yep, it's still there!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDh3Djxq84d_gN4qoSaphtZHnH-i963RMKdsFw9MAMylNIyh0CR1G_ia19bvm_6V_Z0dUfaH0vO9fUX_pA5khE_Q0oFsKQdQBB211MVQacKkMrBWg1e-K6q6NKZtqxhqE78cMHXG5Vm33V/s1600/G_Pigeon_05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDh3Djxq84d_gN4qoSaphtZHnH-i963RMKdsFw9MAMylNIyh0CR1G_ia19bvm_6V_Z0dUfaH0vO9fUX_pA5khE_Q0oFsKQdQBB211MVQacKkMrBWg1e-K6q6NKZtqxhqE78cMHXG5Vm33V/s400/G_Pigeon_05.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Happy Pigeon!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2kDaxY-xsBTuffGZ18zjlivk4Yk-nirK7lTyB2c1xhQUKofOYMDatcDCXv1XCukouWnLec6SXyRjBs4HVMI_kDjbT65VDfftfWkMGp213cuxJAmD9EeD6JHgguEU75eJQZhraphcMinS/s1600/G_Pigeon_06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE2kDaxY-xsBTuffGZ18zjlivk4Yk-nirK7lTyB2c1xhQUKofOYMDatcDCXv1XCukouWnLec6SXyRjBs4HVMI_kDjbT65VDfftfWkMGp213cuxJAmD9EeD6JHgguEU75eJQZhraphcMinS/s400/G_Pigeon_06.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>A very TIRED pigeon, towards the end of the night!</b></span></td></tr>
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<br />Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-85337168626822481552010-10-28T00:36:00.000-07:002010-10-28T00:36:49.825-07:00Okay, Go Ahead... Judge a Blog By Its Cover!Well, somehow instead of putting the finishing touches on my logo presentation due tomorrow morning, I got sucked into my {oh so poorly designed} blog tonight.<br />
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You know how when you spend a ton of money on the most beautiful, high-thread count bed linens in the world, that you are just 'that' much more excited to get into bed at the end of each night? Well, I felt as though my previous blog design was equivalent to 3-thread count sheets that had been washed with bleach and ammonia one hundred times. The kind of sheets that look clean (too clean!) and that feel as scratchy as 1-ply toilet paper... you know the ones I'm talking about... like the ones in the hospital! <br />
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Anyway, I just couldn't bring myself to <b>want</b> to write more blog posts, and more frequently, unless my blog got a bit of a facelift. <br />
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So, with a little help from my IT guy (aka husband) along with some Starbucks instant Via coffee, I think I can safely say that this blog no longer has hospital corners... and I hope that my high-thread count design makes you feel as happy reading my thoughts, as I am writing them.<br />
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On that note... time to pull the covers up over the day and recharge for tomorrow. (Well, almost... first I suppose I'd better finish that presentation that's due in 10 hours!)<br />
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Out with the old... and in with the new. In more ways than one!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOHPU4n6UFc3DzZXM2IVaeReBXlIVYXAzdvoEIPwslJn6g5Sds4j22B9Ohqb8Ki2udNfErQywRqLuqjyjpRegGXQuvtliUcY650wiKfcIot8c80k18lv6pTiicV1qYWGVWaj7D3xBCMUC/s1600/OldBlogDesign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOHPU4n6UFc3DzZXM2IVaeReBXlIVYXAzdvoEIPwslJn6g5Sds4j22B9Ohqb8Ki2udNfErQywRqLuqjyjpRegGXQuvtliUcY650wiKfcIot8c80k18lv6pTiicV1qYWGVWaj7D3xBCMUC/s400/OldBlogDesign.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rest in peace my sweet, first blog design. You may not have been on </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">this planet for long, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">but you made an impression on everyone around you.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">You may not be missed, but you will be remembered fondly.</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-41258775127411580412010-10-26T09:58:00.000-07:002010-10-26T10:52:31.830-07:00The Days Are Snails, The Years Are Gazelles<div><br />A friend of mine (who had a baby recently) expressed concern on the phone to me the other day. "Jenn," she said, "the days crawl by, but the years are passing so quickly." I knew exactly what she meant. The days seem to take forever to get from start to finish, but holy ^%&$*#, how in the world is it possible that it's winter again, and that the holidays are around the corner? I think this is the plight of moms and dads everywhere. The older we get, the faster time passes (and the more tired we are at 10:30am, when the babies seem like they're never going to nap and relieve us of our parental duties for long enough to close our own eyes and/or take a shower!)</div><div><br /></div><div>In hopes of making sure that the years don't pass so quickly, again, I want to follow up my last blog post - which was about baby announcements. I think I need to make a much larger effort to be a teeny bit more consistent with my posts (same ol' story, faithful readers!) so here we go.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last I wrote, I lamented about how to crawl out of the sleep deprived, newborn baby hell that was my life back in January/February, and create beautiful, jaw dropping birth announcements for Hazel, the newest member of the Topliff family.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, with a little brainstorming and a few zzzz's under my belt, this is what I came up with! Just thought I'd share it with you all (patting myself on the back right now, is that so wrong?!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Some of you may have received this in the mail, but for those who didn't, this was how I threw caution to the wind (and my husband's ideal budget for this project) and put the 13 Creative mark on Hazel's introduction to the world.<br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMg6A9K7CiIlT2T0NIx3TyJkis8ZgzE_8zbsfxlGw_uigGlcXFYNAox1t4N7PvsM9YyVcjvFs47PJDX0wdJzzyXiUvG5ypbm7fBXqqucHzGUWcdiFipDGoZbWoJqPt9p-lYE2HgQ1HW3LC/s1600/Hazelicious1_web_small.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMg6A9K7CiIlT2T0NIx3TyJkis8ZgzE_8zbsfxlGw_uigGlcXFYNAox1t4N7PvsM9YyVcjvFs47PJDX0wdJzzyXiUvG5ypbm7fBXqqucHzGUWcdiFipDGoZbWoJqPt9p-lYE2HgQ1HW3LC/s400/Hazelicious1_web_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532411426281084066" border="0" /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakJko8GbSnyO2hr_y0l_7HyrvCwMnizD2nko3ttzBBEqdvZbLu-CCE_HwvxGEXU2y8osoafWNW91S9xyA9IrKXaoO3UjueNmw6tN-2cOFK7FJ1fHH74Nyd4_Q2FZyQbWo4-vXjqoXs8Yc/s1600/hazelicious3_web_small.jpg"></a><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdRZHdYjWVwjaXSdh68Q4bM7iJC4IpL1RgpDH-7S0ZRQXC83j8-XYJ877Vj75SorAFzQhyphenhyphenX3Brxw_6uiM8pixaR8wtWeXKRGxB5QtZaTmLcRZiL4lSBeqpz3MSVXT7htU1Hc59u22TbwZ/s1600/Hazelicious2_web_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdRZHdYjWVwjaXSdh68Q4bM7iJC4IpL1RgpDH-7S0ZRQXC83j8-XYJ877Vj75SorAFzQhyphenhyphenX3Brxw_6uiM8pixaR8wtWeXKRGxB5QtZaTmLcRZiL4lSBeqpz3MSVXT7htU1Hc59u22TbwZ/s400/Hazelicious2_web_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532411541603403602" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakJko8GbSnyO2hr_y0l_7HyrvCwMnizD2nko3ttzBBEqdvZbLu-CCE_HwvxGEXU2y8osoafWNW91S9xyA9IrKXaoO3UjueNmw6tN-2cOFK7FJ1fHH74Nyd4_Q2FZyQbWo4-vXjqoXs8Yc/s1600/hazelicious3_web_small.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakJko8GbSnyO2hr_y0l_7HyrvCwMnizD2nko3ttzBBEqdvZbLu-CCE_HwvxGEXU2y8osoafWNW91S9xyA9IrKXaoO3UjueNmw6tN-2cOFK7FJ1fHH74Nyd4_Q2FZyQbWo4-vXjqoXs8Yc/s400/hazelicious3_web_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532411803468303202" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-43747027616099020152010-02-05T11:03:00.000-08:002010-02-08T23:15:40.575-08:00Designer OR De-sinner<div><br /></div><div>Well, hello! It's been a <b>long</b> time since I took a few minutes to sit down and blog. Last I wrote, I was preparing to move to the burbs and have a baby. As luck would have it, since my last post, I did in fact move to the burbs and did in fact have that baby! Just two weeks ago to be exact.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the weeks leading up to having said baby (<a href="http://designingmoms.blogspot.com/2010/02/make-newborn-hat.html">Hazel Anne Topliff</a>, born January 21st, 2010) I spent many days horizontal (on partial bed rest) thinking about what clever ideas I would put together for baby Hazel's birth announcements. I was <b>sure</b> that I would get around to this project right after she was born. I was determined. I was hell bent on making sure that Hazel's baby announcements wouldn't go the way of Grace's baby announcements (the way of of not existing, I mean!). </div><div><br /></div><div>When Grace was born nearly 2 years ago things were very different. First of all, Grace was born 2 1/2 months early and was in the NICU in the hospital for nearly 5 weeks. My husband had started a <a href="http://www.graceandhazel.com/blog/">blog</a>, and almost everyone we knew (and lots of people we didn't) were following our story religiously online. I had all intentions of doing baby announcements for Grace, but as I had to throw myself back into work as soon as I came home from the hospital without Grace, and the blog was filling people in on a daily basis, the ol' baby announcement project just sort of disappeared. And how comical, let me tell you, for this to happen to moi - the graphic designer specializing in invites and announcements! You can imagine how many calls and emails I got asking "WHAT amazing, clever, genius thing was I doing for Grace's birth announcements?". She was my firstborn after all, and a perfect excuse to go overboard, creatively. </div><div><br /></div><div>As a designer, there is no crime more heinous than sending out the typical, flimsy 4x6 card from (sorry) tinyprints, shutterfly or minted.com, with a boring baby picture and baby birth stats, in an even more boring plain white envelope. How many of these tired, templated birth announcements have we all received in the last few years? How many of them felt original? How many of them were the exact same? This is everything I never want to do - this is <b>everything </b>I don't believe in. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, in order to avoid being unoriginal, I went so far as to purchase a $500 (as seen on tv!) at-home silk screen printing <a href="http://www.whatdoyudu.com/products/default.aspx">machine</a>. My ideas were elaborate... they involved silk screening cloth diapers, or towels or burp cloths. They would be baby announcements combined with the holiday cards and moving announcements I didn't get to earlier, because of the difficult pregnancy + overcommitted work schedule! They were de-luxe in my mind, award-winning even!</div><div><br /></div><div>However, now living in the burbs, now home from the hospital with baby #2, I was (I mean, am!) determined to finally put together something totally overboard and creative and juicy... I just don't know what. Oh, and I don't know how. Oh, and I don't know what time I'll have to do it in. And, ohmigod, dare I say it outloud... I have been looking at some online digital baby announcement places to produce baby announcements for me. I'm ashamed. I feel dirty! I feel like I'm about to commit designer-sin... but when I think about the diapers, the breastfeeding, the other client-work I have lined up for the next several months, I just can't figure out how I'm supposed to go overboard on my own project. I'm in the deepest darkest design quandary of all time... and I lay awake at night thinking about this, instead of getting 20 minutes of sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know how this story ends - but I do know that people are already asking me what AMAZING announcements I'm working on and I've got nothing to report yet! </div><div><br /></div><div>So stay tuned...</div><div><br /></div><div><i>*P.S. I just want to be clear that I am not intending to insult or demean anyone who uses tinyprints, minted.com, shutterfly, snapfish, or any of the other digital invitation and announcement companies. They are great companies with great offerings for a lot of people (a lot of people who I know and love, too!) but I would be doing a very bad job at proving what a talented, amazing and unbelievably clever invitation designer I am (!) by using these services to send out announcements with my name on them.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-33266275234063145382009-09-04T12:48:00.000-07:002009-09-04T14:28:39.206-07:00Location, Location, Location!<div><br /></div>Well, the time has come to put away my "going out clothes" (the ones I used to wear before the baby, the ones that I almost got back into after the baby, but then got pregnant again and now, not so much!) <div><br /></div><div>The time has also come to put away my summer-winter gear... for those who don't live in San Francisco, this means that I will have to sadly retire my regular August attire until much much later in the 'actual' winter season; my down-filled North Face puffy vest, scarf, hat and mittens.</div><div><br /></div><div>And lastly, the time has come to pack up my stereotypes of people (ahem, designers!) who don't live in large, metropolitan areas! We are moving.<br /><div><br /></div><div>While technically there are only three of us living at our house, the USPS told me that, in fact, there are 6 of us sharing this space; some for personal reasons, and other for business. My husband, baby and maiden-named self all live here. My married-name self, combo-married/maiden-named self and my business-self all work here. Each of us had to submit a change of address form.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have lived in San Francisco for 10 years. 10 amazing, wonderful, hip, urban, frigid-August years. I have loved the culture, the energy, the incredible phenomenal restaurants and even more than that, I have loved learning exactly <b>where</b> the right place is to go, or the right person to see for any need imaginable. I have been called "The Mayor of Polk Street" before, and not just once... this city has become a part of me and I am truly sad to be leaving.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hillsborough is a gorgeous city about 30 minutes south of San Francisco. The hills, the gorgeous homes, the easy freeway access... it's a dream community. But that is not where we're moving! </div><div><br /></div><div> Burlingame, just east of Hillsborough, is also a fabulous community. Burlingame Avenue is filled with cute shops, restaurants and it's about as city-like as you get. The homes are sweet, there are tremendous public schools and the weather is fantastic. But we are also not moving there. About 2 miles south of Hillsborough and Burlingame there is a town called San Mateo. With 90,000 residents, it's not exactly "small" (in fact, it's 3x the size of Burlingame!) but it offers tree-lined streets, great schools, amazing weather, and a 3bd/2ba home with our name on it! </div><div><br /></div><div>With another little <a href="http://grace.topliff.com/2009/08/hazel-topliff.html">girl</a> on the way, and Brad's commute taking 2hrs each way some days, it just became clear that unless we could hire a chauffeur, and someone to stop time every afternoon, a move was necessary. In our new 'hood' there's not much in the way of a street scene, but I can walk to a Starbucks, Safeway and a Long's drugs. While this sounds sad and depressing (maybe only to me!) it might actually benefit me and encourage me to <b>not</b> leave my office during business hours... forcing me to be even more productive, creative and efficient.</div><div><br /></div><div>I struggle with what it means to be a designer in San Mateo, versus one in the city. The city is like a drug to me - I crave it, I breathe it in, I exhale it... it empowers me and motivates me. it inspires me. I don't know who I am in San Mateo yet, and maybe it'll take me some time to figure it out, but I guess there's only one way to know. As my very good friend from Nashville says "The only way to it, is through it". She's so right. I will try to keep my biases and skepticisms on the DL while I find my way. (I said "try"!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Worst case scenario -- only 30 minutes north of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Mateo,_California">Hillsborough-South</a>, my city is there waiting for me.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-34473017267608430752009-06-10T16:05:00.000-07:002010-10-28T00:43:59.003-07:00Style Me Pretty<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcHI3UCl_X75mZWn_DLsXjIyfkdv9H-H3HLCHzU0xQkXSdI54aaizvMVV3ijS4NFFvG3s3c98KIMBRp-ODFSOO9adcpGHaT63mOB2ZYE2uYknNGUJdFFavfYiErKxmOpOLrZC8QiJtAGf/s1600-h/Picture+31.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345848100109651634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcHI3UCl_X75mZWn_DLsXjIyfkdv9H-H3HLCHzU0xQkXSdI54aaizvMVV3ijS4NFFvG3s3c98KIMBRp-ODFSOO9adcpGHaT63mOB2ZYE2uYknNGUJdFFavfYiErKxmOpOLrZC8QiJtAGf/s400/Picture+31.png" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 293px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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So, as you all know about my penchant for <a href="http://blog.13creative.com/2008/12/wedding-porn.html">Wedding Porn</a>, it will come as no surprise that the Porn doesn't only take the shape of magazines. Wedding blogs, wedding websites, photography websites, invitation-design websites... it all falls under the same category. Professionally I choose to call it R&D, but I think we all know what it really is!</div>
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Anyway, there is a website out there that caters to the likes of addicts such as myself. It is chock full of delicious photos and stories about all things wedding. It is the "end all, be all" for wedding professionals and brides-to-be and I am surely not alone in my love for this site. It is called <a href="http://www.stylemepretty.com/">Style Me Pretty</a> and it is like the industry bible!</div>
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Maybe it's not even like the bible.. it's like an old episode of Arsenio Hall. Do you remember when his guests would come on and he'd be like "you are awesome". The guest would say "no, no, YOU are awesome". And they would go back and forth, professing their love for each other until the time ran out and there was no actual interview! </div>
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This is sort of the same thing... it's like a wedding love fest for all things stylish and beautiful.</div>
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Anyway, several months ago I decided to write an email to Abby, the editor of Style Me Pretty, introducing her to little ol' me. I wrote an email, with photos of my work, and tried to find a balance of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"I adore you"</span> combined with <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"I'm worth it, I swear!"</span>, with a just a hint of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"Seriously, I'm unique, and make gorgeous invitations, and you should definitely fall in love with me and write a huge piece about me on your blog so I can get some much deserved attention!"</span></div>
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Well, never actually having had the balls to send it, the email is still in my drafts folder!</div>
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Cut to yesterday. The phone rings in the afternoon, it's a number I don't recognize. I pick up and the woman on the other end of the phone says <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Hi, this is Jessica with Style Me Pretty"</span>. </div>
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My heart started beating quickly, my mind started racing. Was this really happening? </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Jenn, I just saw your website and thought it was amazing, so I forwarded it to my editor Abby and she thought it was amazing too. She wanted me to get in touch with you immediately..."</span></div>
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As Jessica was talking, it started sounding better and better. Had they figured out how amazing my invitation skills are? Did they want to do a huge story on me? Were they calling to lavish me with praise?</div>
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"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Jenn, we thought you would be a perfect..."</span></div>
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Yes, yes... go on.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Jenn, we thought you would be a perfect fit for our website, and wondered if you would... {pause} like to advertise on our site?"</span></div>
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Uhmmm, WHAT? Advertise? Oh. {deflated sigh!} </div>
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Well, it turns out that Style Me Pretty hand selects it's advertisers and they thought enough of me to ask me to pay them thousands of dollars to have my name appear on their site. It's not exactly what I was hoping for, but I suppose in <a href="http://blog.13creative.com/2008/12/wedding-porn.html">Wedding Porn world</a>, and as a true addict, it's nearly as good! </div>
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<br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-77798121198673116282009-06-09T13:47:00.000-07:002009-06-09T13:55:11.837-07:00I'm so flattered...<div><br /></div><div>I got an email this morning from a woman I've never met. </div><div>_ _ _ _<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hey Jenn! I just wanted to let you know that we have done a post about 13 Creative on our blog for Weddings Unveiled, called Completely Unveiled.</div><div><br /></div><div>We love your stuff!!</div><div><br /></div><div>You can check out the post here:</div><div><a href="http://weddingsunveiledblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13-creative.html">http://weddingsunveiledblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13-creative.html</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks,</div><div>Anne Marie</div><div>_ _ _ _</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, NO NO Anne Marie, THANK YOU! This was a ray of sunshine in my day and I feel so honored to have inspired someone to shout their affection for *moi* from the rooftops (or blog tops as she puts it!)<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://weddingsunveiledblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13-creative.html">http://weddingsunveiledblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/13-creative.html</a></span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-15079321424487336192009-05-17T12:00:00.000-07:002009-05-17T12:02:37.090-07:00Mecca<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div><br /></div>I'm 35,000 feet up, on a plane (with wi-fi), somewhere over Ohio (or maybe Pennsylvania by the time I finish writing this). I'm headed for New York City, and the <a href="http://www.nationalstationeryshow.com/">National Stationery Show</a> (ooooh, ahhhhh... paper-lovers unite!)</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have wanted to go to this show for as long as I can remember; it is the end-all, be-all place for creative, paper-loving, invitation/stationery makers/sellers/distributors to show their wares. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As a kid, there were really only 2 things I loved like crazy; paper and candy. They are both sweet, and leave me wanting more. And this week I am going to be like a kid in the paper-candy store!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Packing for this trip was harder than any other because I want to look professional but crafty. Experienced yet vulnerable. Hip but sweet. I am a California girl hitting up New York City... this is a no flip-flop kind of town. I am going for three days and I would be a liar if I didn't fess up about the 2nd pair of cowboy boots that I shoved in my carry-on, on the way out of the house, after Brad assured me that the 8 pairs of shoes that I had already packed were enough, and that my bag was guaranteed to be over the 50lb limit. But it doesn't matter... I'll pay extra luggage fees in order to have the "choice" of what to wear when I walk into the convention center tomorrow morning. It'll be mecca. It'll be grand. It'll be like the best buffet in the world.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And here's the thing about buffets... if you have patience (which clearly you all know I don't) you know that the best way to do a buffet is to do a "lap" around the food and figure out who's got what, and where, and plan your "attack" wisely so you don't fill up on the lame food and then find the most delicious food at the end, on your 4th plate, when there's no room left. This show is going to be the same way. I will try to practice restraint and exercise my will power, doing a lap around the convention center first, but this is surely going to be a challenge. There will be sweet, colorful booths calling my name from every direction... stationery designers, wrapping paper producers, manufacturers of paper and related products... I might have to just nibble. {Everybody knows that there are no calories in food that you eat while standing up!}</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">However, there might be another lesson I could use to get through this... I will use another food reference if you don't mind; that of "fine dining". Do you know what they do in fine dining restaurants? They offer a "palate cleanse" in between courses to help you separate the dishes - and prepare your palate for what's to come. It's like a reset button. And I think I know JUST what to do when I get overloaded and my head's about to explode with pattern and prints... Hello, <a href="http://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/">Bergdorf's</a>!!!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div></span>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-78657853410966796812009-05-17T11:30:00.000-07:002009-06-10T16:46:31.034-07:00Bad Bad girl<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:12px;"><div style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I have been a very bad girl as of late.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I am usually a good girl, but not in recent months. Not, say, since March 10th of this year.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I am not a quiet or shy girl. I'm not the girl who is afraid to speak her mind. I am definitely not the girl who thinks before she speaks. And with 1000% certainty, I am not a girl who has only a few small opinions. Quite the contrary as a matter of fact!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">But since my last blog post I have become a girl who censors herself, and questions herself. Not about graphic design. Not about gorgeous wedding invitations. Not even about being a mom. About blogging.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I seem to be a girl who is a little perplexed in the blogging department and can't find my way out of this hole. My blog is like a blank white canvas with no marks on it... too perfect, shiny and pristine to "attack" and "dirty".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">When I was at the Art Institute of Chicago in 1994 I had a painting teacher named </span></span><a href="http://www.yeejanbao.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Yee Jan Bao</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">. Yee Jan played the role of painting teacher/philosopher and we, as freshman students, ate it all up! With each class we learned about new painting tips and techniques, new materials, new methods, all the while listening to his sage-like philosophies on painting and life. During my class with him, he said something to me that I have never forgotten. I may be paraphrasing here but it went something like this: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">"Never paint things you love. Always paint things that you don't like because then it will never get precious and you will never feel scared to make marks. That's why I love to paint bugs. I hate bugs"</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I need a bug. A big one. And I need someone to squish it on my blog and make a mess!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">When I started my blog, I was pretty sure that I would be able to fill page after page with design-related content. I wanted to be a cool, hip design blog about projects, thoughts and the like. I didn't want to write every day, but I wanted to write when the feeling hit, when the iron was hot, and tell the world about what I saw and what I did and what I was thinking. But the whole time I told myself it had to be about design.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Well, design isn't the only thing in my life - it's only one little bit of who I am. I am a mom. I am a wife. I am a girl who used to leave dishes in the sink but doesn't anymore. I am a girl who had to have 2 screwdrivers on the plane today because my husband wasn't with me to hold my hand. I am lots of things and apparently I compartmentalize all of these things and don't let the different colors touch each other on the plate. Yee Jan would be very upset!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Every time I think of writing something, I hear myself saying it's not "design-y" enough, or it's "too" mom-focused, or maybe it'll just sound like I'm patting myself on the back for a job well done. This is hard for me because I want to be as good at this blog as I am at designing invitations (yes, I just patted myself on the back, but I'm sure you'll all indulge me this once!) but the lines are blurry and I like things all neat and tidy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">So, moving forward, I will try to write more and censor less. I will try to "make marks" (or "press keys") and see what happens.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div></div></span>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-54157472452139910972009-03-10T15:50:00.001-07:002009-03-10T15:54:28.566-07:00No More X-Acto Blades On The Table<div><br /></div>I'm a designer. And I'm a mom. But it happened in that order.<br /><br />As my office is in the back of the house, it's inevitable that sometimes my projects (and my mess) leave the confines of the 13 Creative headquarters and try to make a beeline for the door. In fact, they tend to creep and crawl their way into the bedroom, the living room, the tv room, the kitchen, and sometimes the dining room. Well, to be clear, it used to be the dining room. It is now what we affectionately refer to as the playroom.<br /><br />In it's glory days this "dining room" used to be the room where we entertained, where we drank wine, where we felt like "adults" (because "adults" don't sit on the couch and eat dinner off of plates on their laps!). Now, this beloved mark of adulthood and "finery" has pink and brown cushion-like tiles all over the floor and is littered with toys, books, dolls, and really insanely noisy, battery operated, objects made out of fluorescent green plastic, which if weren't magically able to quiet a crying child within seconds, would be chucked out the door faster than you can say "Helvetica!"<br /><br />But I digress. This dining room cum playroom still has a table in it though - the only really "good one" in the house that isn't already covered in my "mess". And I use the word "mess" lightly because what is mess to others (aka: husband) is clear, organized and perfectly logical to me.<br /><br />So, this table is my out-of-the-office sanctuary for cutting, assembling, producing, gluing and the all-time favorite, corner punching!<br />In the days pre Grace, this table would sit in the middle of the room, covered with the tools of my trade - papers, rulers, rhinestones, scraps, glue and of course the all mighty x-acto knife. My projects would go on for days in some cases, during the hefty production of a lavish wedding invitation or packaging mockups for a soon-to-be printed product. Brad and I would fight about "mess" and he would insist that my project got cleaned up each night and put away somehow. He would spend the night strategizing on different solutions for designer-moms to use so that each night projects could be placed out of the way and brought back to life in the morning without much hassle. I refused each and every brilliant suggestion however, offering up the "creative process" as a good enough reason to keep "mess" exactly where it was. Then I would ply him with wine and make him forget about our little argument!<br /><br />Now, in the days post Grace, the table is still covered with the same tools although we have more arguments than I can count about sharp tools on the table. No amount of wine will make him forget - and boy have I tried! My how things change! I guess old habits die hard because no matter how much I love Grace, and desperately want for her to be safe at all times, I have the hardest damn time committing to removing my x-acto blades from the table each night!!<br /><br />At Art Center the teachers drill it into your head that a dull x-acto blade is more dangerous than a sharp one - and so my collection of tiny little blades, which get changed out every 15mins or so during a project, sit stacked next to my work, waiting inline for their tour of duty. At the end of my day when I go from creative genius, goddess, guru (call me what you see fit!) to "mommy" I can't find the part of my brain that wants to clean off the table and remove all blades of glory before fixing supper or changing a diaper.<br /><br />*Note: Just so no one thinks they need to call Child Protective Services on me... there are NO x-acto blades on the table. I do see Brad's point of view - I'm just reluctant to admit that he's right!<br /><br />I guess this is all part of being a designing mom. I struggle with the balance from a mental point of view, but had no idea I was in for a struggle in this realm! I am guessing that one day when I feel more "mommy" than "designer" this won't be an argument, or struggle at all but until Grace can say "mommy" I think that day is a bit far off.<br /><br /><br />Helpful Tip: One of Brad's suggestions during the quest for the ultimate solution on "mess containment" was to use large, flat boxes (pizza boxes would be perfect) to store each project in. At night, all the project components would get put into the box (large enough for rulers, oversize sheets of paper, etc.) and would get stacked away neatly, on top of all the other project boxes. I really do think this is a genius idea - thanks Brad - but knowing me, I wouldn't be happy with just "any" pizza box and I certainly don't have time to start designing a line of designer pizza boxes for use as project organizers. Guess it'll just have to live on the to-do list for a little while longer!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-85819367234016542372009-02-04T12:47:00.000-08:002009-02-04T13:25:20.492-08:00"My Guy"<div><br /></div>So, if I were asked to write 25 things about myself (no one has asked me yet, by the way!) then I'd probably spend a few moments talking about how I like to "know things". Oh, and that sometimes I'm sorta, kinda, extremely evangelical about those things that I know. I might even call myself a "knowy knowerson" if prompted. My therapist deduced that my "need to know" goes back to the root of my feeling secure about the world, but we don't have to get that deep in this blog post!<div><br /></div><div><div><div>That established, some of things I like to know are people. They are either "girls" or "guys". My <a href="http://www.waxhabit.com/">waxing girl</a>, for example. There's no one better in the world. 7 different kinds of wax and the ability to make online appointments... I could "wax" poetic for three more paragraphs, but I'll spare you. My list of "girls" and "guys" is extensive and while their monikers are impersonal, they are of the utmost importance to me and I care about each of them dearly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Go see 'my girl' and she'll hook you up." Could be my <a href="http://www.superpages.com/bp/San-Francisco-CA/Davids-Tailor-Shop-By-Nadia-Vladimir-L2040308423.htm">tailor</a>, waxer, <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/lombard-heights-nail-salon-san-francisco">manicurist</a>, <a href="http://sararemington.net/">photographer</a>, <a href="http://dutchdoorpress.com/">letterpress printer</a> or even my most favorite and treasured <a href="http://bluview.com/">person</a> at a local paper store, who is the best, most incredible idea generator, and who can bring a project to life just by talking about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>'My guy' on the other hand could also reference a list of delicious vendors, printers, mockup artists or just the exact right person to see at the frozen yogurt store, the one who always fills your cup with a heavy hand! But my most <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">favorite</span> guy of the moment is my new 'promo guy'! (Sorry Brad, you're not my "favorite" guy during office hours!!) My new guy, Mark, is possibly the best, most incredible addition to my roster of people. He is a self proclaimed "I can do anything" sort of vendor. He has provided me with exceptional service, super friendly banter and the willingness to make just about ANY of my "out there" ideas come to life. On the search for a product that just didn't seem to be findable, anywhere in the promo-world, Mark called to tell me that he found said item at a local craft store, and was going to pick me up samples after work... worst case scenario, he'd buy the product for me and ship it to me from Texas, and I could pay him back. I've never met this 'guy' in person, but after working with him for two weeks I'm pretty sure he's going to be 'my guy' for a long long long long time. I will recommend 'my guy' with fervor... doing everything in my power to help him get the business he deserves and will know in my heart that there is not one better person on this planet to help my friends get what they need. Like I said, 'my guy' can do anything... printing, stickers, promo materials, tchotchkes, you name it... he will make it his personal challenge and get it done.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, to recap... I have a new 'guy' and the world feels more secure already.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-79029636010112620302009-01-27T00:55:00.000-08:002009-01-27T01:23:57.246-08:00Pickles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnReznleRToynMJyI8H3DEYLspL2pF_tIBLVL_039IPBP-C_DpjS-UVqv9kVXp4PHnG9GQI6AmHtUu_2Q2J8ZtympgCit4IMA25s2DgIaeI7jeqjp0ulUNV5wq9DFDc6ECicoJLlH7cVU1/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 389px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnReznleRToynMJyI8H3DEYLspL2pF_tIBLVL_039IPBP-C_DpjS-UVqv9kVXp4PHnG9GQI6AmHtUu_2Q2J8ZtympgCit4IMA25s2DgIaeI7jeqjp0ulUNV5wq9DFDc6ECicoJLlH7cVU1/s400/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295900637993676066" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">On my wedding day, as my mom was helping me get dressed, she paused for a moment and said "I can't believe you're marrying a man who doesn't like Salmon."<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">I couldn't believe it either, honestly, but I decided to overlook that small detail and still say "I do" once I reached the end of the aisle, only an hour or so later.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Also on the list of things that Brad and I disagree on:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">canned tuna </span>J yes · B no</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">watching television = r&d for design trends </span>J yes · B no</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">adventure honeymoons </span>J no · B yes</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">brussel sprouts </span>J yes · B no</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">cheese is the 5th food group </span>J no · B yes</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">atkins</span> J no · B yes</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">best salad dressing is olive oil & lemon juice </span> J yes · B no</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">whoever cooks, the other one cleans</span> J yes · B when it suits him</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">However, more devastating than salmon, more unfathomable than an aversion to relaxing honeymoons... we have pickles. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To be clear, I am <a href="http://www.bubbies.com/prod_pure_kosher_dills.shtml">for</a>. Brad is against.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This might seem trivial, but let me tell you that more than one fight has been initiated by said item.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It would not be unreasonable to hear my husband cough, clear his throat, and utter strong words of distaste and possibly even throw up in his mouth a little, when he hears the pickle jar open up at the other end of the house. While not a daily ritual, I certainly would be remiss if a week went by without a briny little treat!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, honey, this post is for you. I saw someone walking down the street in this shirt last week and I want you to know that you are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">not</span> alone.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This in no way means I believe you are right, and this for certain does not mean I will stop buying pickles or eating them, but you have a friend out there. Two, actually, if you count the other sad sack who invented this shirt!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">You just don't know what you're missing...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-44640056165308739722009-01-15T11:01:00.001-08:002009-01-15T11:29:59.505-08:00The Best Part Of My Day<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Well, most days start and finish the same. Wake up, feed the baby, play with the baby, hand the baby off to Michelle (the amazing) and sit down at my computer where I'll sit until it's dark, and time to feed the baby again, play with the baby again and put the baby to sleep for the night.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, some days are different. Well, lots of days are different, but some days are magical. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some days, the days that come after my clients send out one of my Save The Dates or Invitations, are rich with anticipation and nerves. It's the time in between when my client hands off the precious finished product to the post office and the time that the first phone call comes in that is the most thrilling. I sit, all excited, and wait... wondering, imagining, whose going to call first, whether the design will be loved, cherished and praised, or go by <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?referrer=emailarticle">unnoticed.</a></div><div><br /></div><div>It's like buying a lottery ticket and wondering for a few short hours whether or not you're going to be a millionaire. Those hours, or days, in between the purchase of the ticket, and when they read the numbers... it's all about possibility!</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, as cheesy as it sounds, I do feel like I win the lottery every time my clients call to tell me about the reactions of their guests. It is truly the best part of my day. While I need to pay the rent (my husband will attest!), I definitely prefer to work for accolades and appreciation. Satisfaction never wrote a cheque to Visa for me, but it makes me feel SO happy to do what I do, to know that when I put everything I have into a project, that it changes someone's day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just finished one of the most fun projects for one of the most fun couples I've ever met. Their Save The Dates went out on Tuesday and last night, while at dinner, the first reactions came flooding in:</div><div><br /></div><div>"people are freaking out with glee"</div><div><br /></div><div>My face lit up, my cheeks and heart warmed simultaneously... it was like getting an invisible standing ovation!</div><div><br /></div><div>The groom-to-be called, shortly thereafter, to tell me that his mother had been getting calls all afternoon from her friends, telling her that these were the best Save The Dates they had ever seen.</div><div><br /></div><div>I got an email from the bride-to-be this morning:</div><div><br /></div><div>"... Really, we need to post a review everywhere. The phone was ringing off the hook last night, punctuated by texts. People are stunned, and I'm so pumped. I knew it was awesome, but I kind of forgot how it looks when you see it for the first time."</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">This</span> is my favorite currency. And I'm gonna spend it all over town.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-5347384374923136972009-01-14T13:18:00.000-08:002009-01-14T13:28:04.751-08:00As Jim White Would Say: "Line Of The Day!"<div><br /></div>I got an email from a client today letting me down easy. She couldn't afford to hire me to design her wedding invitations. This is the best Dear John letter EVER and I'm so flattered (and still laughing so hard). <div><br /><div><br /></div><div>"I've got caviar taste on a Burger King budget... what can I say?"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-36857581890250779542009-01-08T10:09:00.000-08:002009-01-08T11:04:24.256-08:00"Matchmaker, Matchmaker Make Me A Match"<div><br /></div><div>Well I'm no fiddler on the roof, but I can't think of a better way to sum up what it is I do for a living.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/fiddlerontheroof/matchmaker.htm">"Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match. Find me a find, catch me a catch"</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I think if I boiled it down to the very root of what I do, it's to find the perfect design "mate" for my clients. I have to know my clients' likes and dislikes, their love for certain things, and distaste for others. I have to know what they find attractive and what they think needs a bit of work.. and then, find the best possible design to satisfy those wants.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.shawnmcnulty.com/art/L/perseverance_red_abstract_painting.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.shawnmcnulty.com/art/L/perseverance_red_abstract_painting.html&h=385&w=512&sz=32&tbnid=q8AF7IDAAEUvqM::&tbnh=99&tbnw=131&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dabstract%2Bpainting&usg=__3Cqw-5okhuio9aeGJuqyO7XKfeY=&sa=X&oi=image_result&resnum=1&ct=image&cd=1">abstract</a>, I know, but bear with me as I meander down this metaphorical path...</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a fine example:</div><div><br /></div><div>I once had a meeting with a very, very successful business man. This man asked me to meet him, to show him some of my work, as he was considering hiring me to design some personal stationary items for him. When I got to his overwhelmingly gorgeous condo, dozens of stories above San Francisco, he told me very specifically that he only wanted to see work that I'd designed that was the color green. </div><div><br /></div><div>"What?"</div><div><br /></div><div>[You probably asked that question the same way I did.]</div><div><br /></div><div>"What do you mean, JUST GREEN?" I stammered, I didn't know what to do... I had two green-centric projects but how could I explain to this gentleman that just because I didn't have green projects with me that day, that I couldn't design something custom for him, that would be just perfect, exactly what he wanted.</div><div><br /></div><div>I tried to explain to him that as a graphic designer, my role is to bring together different design elements from far flung corners of the universe, and roll them, meld them, collage them into a final product that is unique to his specific needs. "You want green, I'll GIVE you green"!! Just because I didn't have it in my small portfolio at the time, it didn't mean that it wasn't possible.</div><div><br /></div><div>I tried to make him understand my process... my methods... I tried to get him to see that this wasn't a "template" sort of situation in which he was supposed to pick a font, and a paper stock, and his name would just appear at the top of a sheet of ivory Crane's paper, engraved in <a href="http://www.myfonts.com/fonts/tilde/copprpl-goth/">Copperplate Gothic</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>But he couldn't get there. He couldn't see where I was going. He was stuck. </div><div><br /></div><div>And so was I!</div><div><br /></div><div>Feeling super frustrated, I spent days mulling over this horrendous meeting. I didn't ever want to be in a meeting like that again... I had no game! I had no way to communicate WHY hiring a designer is so valuable. This is nothing like an "arranged marriage" with someone you've never met before... this is a specific process of finding just the perfect typefaces, paper stock, ink colors, printers and vendors, to create the ideal match... I'm a matchmaker. I can find you the find. And catch you the catch. Oh, and make you look GOOD in the process!</div><div><br /></div><div>One of my clients always makes fun of how detail-oriented I am. If I miss a space, or there is a comma where there should be no comma, or one tiny iota of the design is off center (for example!) I get bent out of shape. This OCD behavior, this total and complete LOVE for what I do... this is what makes me the best matchmaker in town. Hands down!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, if only I could start aligning myself with my most favorite Fiddler showtune...</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/fiddlerontheroof/ifiwerearichman.htm">"If I were a rich man...."</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-90872341860848300182008-12-21T11:06:00.000-08:002008-12-21T12:08:33.737-08:00Wedding Porn<div><br /></div>When I first met my husband — before he was my husband, when he was just my boyfriend, or soon thereafter my roommate — we would get into bed at night and read books or magazines before falling asleep.<div><br /></div><div>Brad always liked to read 700+ page historical biographies about ex-presidents, and other more "brainy" works of non-fiction. These books challenged him, but bored me! I would sit up in bed next to Brad, night after night, reading instead the latest issues of Martha Stewart Weddings, Modern Bride, Elegant Bride, Your Wedding Day and just about any other wedding-focused (read: obsessed) periodical I could get my hands on!</div><div><br /></div><div>As you might imagine, this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">seriously</span> concerned Brad! What sort of freak had he started dating...? No talk of the future had been discussed, no serious milestones had been reached, and yet I was getting into bed with bridal magazines every night... I think Brad was fairly convinced that I was planning our wedding (a few years ahead of schedule!)</div><div><br /></div><div>When we talked about it, I would try to put his mind at ease, and I always insisted that it was for "work"... I was getting inspired, staying in the know, following the trends... being a "responsible" designer. How dare he suggest otherwise. </div><div><br /></div><div>One night as we were getting into bed with my stack of magazines, he said (pointing to my mags) "You know what that is? It's "Wedding Porn!" I laughed till my ribs hurt, so did he. It was the truth, it couldn't be denied! I was addicted to Wedding Porn.</div><div><br /></div><div>Three years, tons of invites & client weddings, one big fabulous wedding of my own and one small miracle baby later, not much has changed. Several days a month, the postman delivers my "Wedding Porn" right to the front door, for all the world to see. Lincoln minds, but he's really the only one! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4022331369069453125.post-59156438021686981492008-12-12T13:23:00.000-08:002008-12-12T15:00:40.556-08:00The "Value of Design FactFinder" Says So...<div><br /></div>So, I'm pretty sure that this is the most fabulous little bit of information I've stumbled on... EVER!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOi_SzxRQjxSIIAad636y0DK16FMy_urGrjRdf8BQRDMvR3L0qOyxY1tzxtM4ZxV9TFlIQGL0H8REsg3erPe-dNmUBhTgMY0XGK4iN1el7anagU4gGJG48ZLkb-j7izqqG5Qy7HJyB9uZ/s1600-h/Picture+10.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOi_SzxRQjxSIIAad636y0DK16FMy_urGrjRdf8BQRDMvR3L0qOyxY1tzxtM4ZxV9TFlIQGL0H8REsg3erPe-dNmUBhTgMY0XGK4iN1el7anagU4gGJG48ZLkb-j7izqqG5Qy7HJyB9uZ/s400/Picture+10.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279018699720061250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's what I know. It's what I think. Hell, It's what I want to tell everyone, but never have the exact words without sounding like I'm selling Amway products!<div><br /></div><div>This nugget of juicy information is based on scientifically proven findings from the "Value of Design FactFinder". Thank you <a href="http://www.designfactfinder.co.uk/">FactFinder.</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Here is another fantastic piece of evidence:<div><br /></div>"Two thirds of companies who ignore design have to compete mainly on price. In companies where design is integral, just one third do so."<br /><div><br /></div><div>This makes me sit back in my chair (which definitely did NOT compete on price, based on it's highly-praised design components) and feel satisfied. Almost as though I just ate a lobster & filet mignon at Harris', washed down with a ruby red 2006 Charter Oak Petite Syrah. I'm full. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although, I might have room for dessert... ask me again in five minutes, I could possibly be ready for more!<br /><br /><br /></div></div>Jenn White Topliffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01368433250360190245noreply@blogger.com2