I spent my early days as a young designer in a chemical fug. Day after day, my senses were dulled by fumes that made me light-headed and reckless. Intensified by the heat and pressure of a busy design studio, I became addicted to the mother of all creative highs.
It’s incomprehensible of course these days that we would spend an entire day drawing stuff, colouring in with coloured felt tip markers, glue it to some board and then go see a client with the brand new thinking for their next campaign. But we did. In the modern age of PDF and We Transfer, sketching stuff out seems oddly quaint, although it’s not vanished entirely, it’s an affectation these days rather than the norm.
Back then markers were our expression, easy, quick tools that demanded skill to deliver ideas on the hoof. This process had its own vernacular too: markers were used to create scamps, roughs, flims or even thumbnails. As designers we were still close the commercial artists craftsmen who taught us our craft and we borrowed ancient terminology from these long-lost giants.
To someone who always loved drawing, the technical ability of these tools to deliver flat colour, crisp lines with no bleeding (here I go again) and flawless visuals was a revelation. Of course, you had to know the tricks and a scuffed drawing board could ruin work that would have to be done again. There was no Apple Save in those days. But you learnt quick. Shortcuts came thick and fast and everyone had their own armoury of kit and secret techniques to deliver the killer visual.
There was no finer sight than a full rack of juiced up markers, ready to do your bidding. I started on Magic Markers, the ad agency staple. The stubby glass bodied pens were fearsomely expensive and prone to drying out, and were soon usurped by the snazzy Pantone upstarts, who had the massive advantage of the pen colour matching the entire Pantone ink and paper family. Both co-existed with dedicated enthusiasts on both sides.
I learnt recently that the chemicals used in magic markers were very harmful to humans and even back then we’d joke lightheadedly about how these couldn’t be good for us. Of course now we can’t have a glass of wine without getting a warning so imagine spending a day intoxicated by killer toxins just to get an advert sketched out.
I love the past sometimes. That’s why I’ve just ordered a full set of greys to get cracking again.
What do you remember about magic markers?
2 thoughts on “Magic Markers saved my life”
Haha, excellent memories :- )
I was sympathising with a guy recently who’d spent his life working with asbestos. When he’d gone my mind turned to thinking of all our years of inhaling chuffin’ SprayMount & the deadly DisplayMount..!
Here’s hoping the MagicMarker fumes somehow neutralised the carcinogenic horror & stopped our young lungs looking like a spraybooth after a particularly longer ‘burner’..!
Car spray paints, that’s what my magic markers remind me of – I’ve been planning on getting them back out (they still work after being boxed away for over a decade!) I loved the smell!
After all the ‘Canvas Scrumping’ I did a little while back (when the art students threw away their perfectly good canvasses) I have no excuse 😀
Yes – that’s what I remember: mixed media cacophonies and FUMES! :))