A decade of photography


Alistair, who runs We Made This, spends most of his time designing stuff. But he also spends a fair bit of time hiding behind a camera. We thought we’d share a selection of his work from across the last ten years – just click on the picture above to open up a slideshow.

Check out more of his work over at Alistair Hall Photography and even more over on his Flickr page.

British Hardware Federation


We stumbled across this little paper bag the other day, and crikey it’s peculiar.

It features branding for the British Hardware Federation, the national trade association for independent hardware and DIY retailers in the UK. We’re not quite sure when this particular bag dates from, but we’d guess it’s the early 1970s. (We’ve been in touch with the BHF to ask them if they know anything about the branding, but they’ve not got back to us with any answers yet.)

So that symbol. That’s the male gender symbol right?*

So, hum, was the British Hardware Federation really suggesting, as James Brown would have it, that DIY is a ‘man’s man’s man’s world’? Because that seems kinda outrageous, even in the 70s.


The symbol itself, the circle with an arrow pointing outwards at an angle, and its equivalent female symbol, the circle with a cross below it, have an interesting history.

Their use as markers of gender dates back to the work of Swedish Botanist Carl Linnaeus, in his dissertation Plantae Hybridae (1751), where he used them for male and female parents of hybrid plants.

But Linnaeus didn’t invent the symbols, he just appropriated them from the scientific study of alchemy, where the male symbol was originally used to refer to the metal iron, and the female symbol to the metal copper. In fact he’d previously used them as such in his 1735 piece, System Naturae.

The symbols’ use in alchemy derived from a shorthand for the names of the planets, each of which was associated with a metal. Iron (a hard red metal used to make weapons) was associated with Mars (big red planet, god of war); and copper (a soft metal that turns green) was associated with Venus (goddess of love). Read all about that over on this Today I Found Out article.

Which is all well and good, but doesn’t perhaps explain why the male gender symbol was used to brand a DIY trade body. It’s possible it was something to do with iron, but it feels like most people would have connected the symbol with maleness way before they thought about a hard red metal.

Of course, there’s a much more contemporary instance of the symbol being used as a key part of a much larger brand identity…


Volvo refer to their mark as ‘the iron mark’, so they’re definitely anchoring (sorry) the symbol with that meaning. As opposed to subtly suggesting that cars are just for men.

*If anyone knows any more about the British Hardware Federation identity, get in touch. It’s always possible that the symbol refers to something very DIY specific. We’d love to know.

Recreating The Wipers Times


On Saturday 12 February 1916, the first edition of a newspaper, The Wipers Times, was published.

Twelve pages long, it featured a mix of editorial, articles, advertisements, poetry, letters to the editor, a competition, and even an agony column. Nothing too unusual there.

But it was utterly remarkable because it was written, printed, distributed and read by soldiers serving in the trenches of the Western Front of the First World War. And it was deeply satirical, joyously lampooning the top brass, the enemy and the war itself in equal measure.

At a recent Wynkyn de Worde Society event, cartoonist and author Nick Newman related the story of this fantastic publication. Newman really knows his stuff, having co-written (with Ian Hislop) a BBC drama about the newspaper, The Wipers Times, in 2013 (watch the trailer here, and you can still catch the whole film on Netflix).

We’ve been honorary designers for the society this year, so to mark the talk, we decided to create a new edition of the newspaper (shown top), featuring a collection of the best bits from across its twenty-three editions.


The Wipers Times came about after two soldiers, Captain Fred Roberts and Lieutenant Jack Pearson, came across an abandoned and slightly damaged printing press in the heavily-shelled city of Ypres. You can imagine the glint in their eyes as they decided that they might just be able to get the press working, and possibly even lay their hands on enough type, paper and ink to produce a newspaper.

Both men served in the 12th Battalion of the Sherwood Foresters, which formed part of the British Expeditionary Force (B.E.F.). So they set themselves up as the printers and publishers ‘Sherwood, Forester & Co. Ltd., B.E.F.’.

Of course, they needed a title for their paper. The British soldiers’ common mispronunciation of Ypres served as the perfect name – The Wipers Times was born.

As the battalion, and the press, were moved around during the war, the newspaper took on a series of new names – after being The Wipers Times it became The “New Church” Times, then The Kemmel Times, The Somme-Times, The B.E.F. Times, and finally, at the end of the war, The Better Times. Just above you can see the front cover of The B.E.F. Times from February 1918 – published two long years after the first edition.

Here are a couple more spreads from the same edition:



(You can see the full set of scans of this edition over at our Wipers Times Flickr album.)

It’s incredible to think that the newspaper was produced throughout the war, often under fire. Roberts and Pearson fought in both battles of the Somme, and were both decorated for gallantry.

Designed to entertain the troops, the newspaper took a deeply satirical approach to news. Here’s a piece by ‘Belary Helloc’, gleefully satirising the writer Hilaire Belloc, whose writing in pro-war magazine Land and Water would often feature inflated estimates of enemy casualties:

“In this article I wish to show plainly that under existing conditions, everything points to a speedy disintegration of the enemy. We will take first of all the effect of war on the male population of Germany. Firstly, let us take as our figures 12,000,000 as the total fighting population of Germany. Of these 8,000,000 are killed or being killed hence we have 4,000,000 remaining. Of these 1,000,000 are non-combatants, being in the Navy. Of the 3,000,000 remaining, we can write off 2,500,000 as temperamentally unsuitable for fighting owing to obesity and other ailments engendered by a gross mode of living. This leaves us 500,000 as the full strength. Of these 497,250 are known to be suffering from incurable diseases, this leaves us 2,750. Of these 2,150 are on the Eastern Front, and of the remaining 600, 584 are Generals and Staff. Thus we find that there are 16 men on the Western Front. This number I maintain is not enough to give them even a fair chance of resisting four more big pushes, and hence the collapse of the Western Campaign. I will tell you next week about the others, and how to settle them.”

For the new edition of the newspaper, with advice from Nick Newman, we pulled together a selection of different articles, adverts, columns and poetry that represented the overall feel of the publication.

From a printing point of view, we wanted to create something that was as true as possible to the original. Fantastically, Matt McKenzie, a member of the Wynkyn de Worde Society who runs his own letterpress studio, Paekakariki Press, offered to typeset and print the new edition on his Heidelberg KS Cylinder press.


(We should point out that the newspaper was probably originally printed on a Liberty or Arab press. There’s a lovely article in Printing History News that relates Tim Honnor’s provision of an Arab press for The Wipers Times film.)

We decided to do as much as we could within the time available with movable type, and to use plates made from scans of the originals for the rest.

We sent Matt a template grid of the newspaper to work to, with a page size of 10″ high x 7.5″ wide (though we actually set the measurements in mm, because, well, imperial measurements are confusing right?).


Matt has a Monotype Composition Caster which he used to create a lot of the movable type for the newspaper.


Historically, using the Monotype System, you would type out text on a Monotype Keyboard, which looked a bit like a massive typewriter. The keyboard would produce a roll of perforated paper tape, which could then be fed into a separate machine, the Monotype Caster, which would cast (at considerable speed) brand new individual metal letters, set line by line. Matt’s caster though is connected to a computer interface, which means he can type the text onto his laptop, and it’s produced moments later by the caster. It’s about as close to magic as you can get. Here’s a short clip we shot of the caster at work – view it full screen and you can see each individual letter being created:


Once the type was cast, Matt (with just a little assistance from Mike from the printers Benwells, and Alistair from We Made This) then put together the spreads, combining the new type with the scanned plates. Here are Mike and Matt at work:





Gradually, the pages came together, ready for proofing.



The newspaper was then printed onto a recycled stock, before being bound and sewn by Benwells.


The Wipers Times had a peculiar format, in that it effectively had two front covers. There was an outer 4 page section, that worked as a protective cover, and was a heavier weight than the text pages. You can see that above, with the cover created from a mix of freshly cast type and plates created from scans. (The advertisement for an ‘Archie’ is for an anti-aircraft gun – no children’s party complete without it!)


The page above was printed entirely from plates.


This page shows the internal front cover, which repeats the title, date, edition number and price. The text here was freshly cast for printing.


For the bits of type that couldn’t be created on the caster, and for which we didn’t have clear enough original scans, we sourced some digital fonts, and recreated the text using those. So, above, you can see Frisco Antique Display, and below, Dharma Slab Condensed, both of which approximate the typefaces originally used.



The question ‘Am I offensive as I might be?’ (above) was one asked by staff officers of the troops on the front line, questioning whether they were sufficiently eager to attack the enemy. It was turned around by the writers of the newspaper to suggest that the officers themselves might well be considered offensive.


The Wipers Times is an incredible example of creativity and humour, created in truly perilous circumstances.

Wynkyn de Worde Society


Founded in 1957, the Wynkyn de Worde Society is ‘dedicated to excellence in all forms of printing’. It’s a rather fantastic society which gets together regularly to eat, drink, talk about design and printing, and drink some more. The membership is made up of talented and frankly fascinating folk from right across the graphic arts spectrum – printers, graphic designers, calligraphers, publishers, typographers – all sorts. Each year they ask a different member to be their Honorary Designer, and this year they asked Alistair, creative director of We Made This, to take on that role.

The society holds a series of wonderful lunchtime and evening events across the year, and one of the Honorary Designer’s jobs is to create the booking forms for those events. Alistair designed each leaflet to respond to the theme of the respective event. We thought we’d share a few of them here.

In March, Daniel Mason gave a wonderful talk about recreating the packaging for Joy Division’s albums. Having found a copy of the original image used to create the Unknown Pleasures cover art, Alistair created a Factory-style booking form. This was printed onto Colorplan Pristine White. Alistair also created a memento for the event.





In July, the Society held its annual Members’ Garden Party. For this Alistair created a botanic pattern based on a Gunnera leaf.




The leaflet was printed onto Colorplan Pistachio with a leaf-like embossed texture.



In September, Professor Lawrence Zeegen gave a fascinating talk about the history of Ladybird Books. For that Alistair created a leaflet that matched the exact size of the Ladybird books, and reworked type from one of the original books to create a text page inside it.





Later this month, Nick Newman will be giving a talk about The Wipers Times, the newspaper written, printed and published by British soldiers in the trenches in the First World War. Alistair carefully replicated the typographic style of the newspaper for the booking leaflet, and reworked some text from the newspaper too, making it specific to the event. (He’s also worked with Matt Mackenzie at Paekakariki Press to recreate a letterpress printed edition of the newspaper – we’ll tell you all about that next month.) The leaflet was printed onto Colorplan Stone.





And finally, for the Christmas party, which is held at the Garrick Club, Alistair created a leaflet that looked like an old theatre playbill, playing with some of the lyrics from the ‘Deck the Halls’ Christmas carol.




If that’s whetted your appetite, take a look at the Wynkyn de Worde Members’ Handbook too.

The Cinema Museum

cinema museum

There’s something incredibly special about the experience of going to the cinema. That initial moment of walking in from a hectic high street to a quiet, dim auditorium. Sinking down into the comfy embrace of your seat. The gentle and excited buzz of chatter through the adverts and trailers. The sharp focus that being in a darkened room in front of a huge screen provides. That magic moment you sometimes get when the screen widens before the main film. The expectant hush of a crowd as the first titles begin to roll. The collective and audible expression of shared emotion during the film – gasps, laughs, screams, whimpers, sobs and occasionally even applause. Basking in the afterglow as the credits drift up to the heavens at the end of the film.

Nowadays of course, cinema, as a way of spending your precious leisure time, competes against myriad other forms of screened entertainment: TV. Netflix. YouTube. DVDs. The vast depths of the internet.

But back in the 1940s, cinema was the main form of public entertainment. No TV. No Internet. In 1946 alone, in the UK, cinema audiences hit 1.64 billion (that’s 1,640 million). That’s a vast number of people going to the pictures. Since then there has been a massive decline, principally because of television; and by 1984 audiences had dropped off a cliff, to 54 million (though since then they’ve been gradually climbing, back towards 200 million).

A huge number of cinemas closed over the second half of the twentieth century. And that rich social, architectural and cultural history could all too easily have been lost with their closures. Fortunately, a few people had the foresight to save as much as they could, preserving that history for us.

And one of the very finest collections can be found at the fantastic Cinema Museum, in an old Victorian workhouse where Charlie Chaplin spent time as a child, tucked away in a corner of south London.

cinema museum exterior

cinema museum sign

The museum’s unique collection has been put together by Ronald Grant and Martin Humphries, and is the result of a life long passion for cinema. Starting as an assistant projectionist with Aberdeen Picture Palaces, Grant went on to work at the BFI, and the Brixton Ritzy, not far from the museum’s current home. He and Humphries established the museum in 1986, and it moved from place to place until they settled at The Master’s House in Kennington in 1998. It is maintained there thanks to Grant and Humphries, and a small and dedicated force of volunteers.

We went along to the museum earlier this week to have a rummage around, and to take a few photographs.

The museum is a glorious mix. You step through the front doors into a hallway stuffed to the rafters with an incredible collection of projectors and beautiful typographic cinema signs.

projector lens

standing sign

stalls sign

seating indicator

the majestic

prices of admission

cinema house sign

odeon saftey first

seating board

ABC manager

pathe news

secret of blood island

mrs wiggs of the cabbage patch

Odeon Car Park sign

balcony full sign

high fidelity

They also have other bits of cinematic ephemera: uniforms, equipment, playbills, newspapers, magazines…


cinema newspaper

Castle Bolton

pathescope box

projector lenses

35mm projector sign

On the ground floor there’s a small screening room with a stunning set of original cinema seats.

cinema seats

There’s also an extensive library and archive, with more than a million photographic images; film sheet music; books; magazines; catalogues and other ephemera. They also have more than 17 million feet of film.

filing room

filing boxes

filing drawer

cinemas room

From there, you make your way through the building, and upstairs, past a huge Granada cinema sign, to a truly magnificent main room.


granada sign

illuminated sign

cinema museum interior

It’s quite the most incredible place. It’s preserving a vital part of our cultural heritage, and doing so with warmth and love. As well as providing an archive, they are open for pre-booked visits, host a programme of events, work with educational institutions, make items available for loan to other institutions, and are available as a venue for hire.

We went along to a screening there a few weeks back, and the atmosphere was really wonderful. It is absolutely worth a visit.

The museum is set up as a registered charity, and remarkably receives no public funding, relying instead upon donations. And, worryingly, they have no guarantee that they’ll be able to stay in their building beyond next year. For such a wonderful institution to have such an uncertain future is nothing short of scandalous. And peculiarly, it feels like the UK film industry haven’t really realised what a precious treasure trove they have right on their doorstep.

We can only hope that this marvellous place is secured for generations to come.

If you’d like to help, pop along to their Support page, or get in touch directly.

Baddeley Brothers – an account by the Gentle Author


Printing is good. Books are good too. So a book about printing? Sign us up.

The book in question is an account of Baddeley Brothers, the specialist printers, by the Spitalfields Life’s Gentle Author. It’s the second collaboration between the Gentle Author and our studio partner David Pearson, and features wonderful illustrations by Lucinda Rogers. It’s a great subject and a fantastic creative team – so it’s no surprise that it’s a glorious book.

We nipped along to St Bride’s yesterday afternoon for the launch (the perfect place for it, since much of the archive material featured in the book is held there).

The sumptuous cloth-bound book tells a story that reaches across four centuries, and is a real treasure trove. It features archive imagery from throughout the company’s history, as well as a host of tipped-in samples, used as section dividers, illustrating the range of Baddeley Brothers’ print techniques. There’s also a fine glossary of printing terminology, and an anatomy of envelope design.






Lucinda Rogers’ illustrations document Baddeley Brothers as it is today, her wonderful and energetic line work brilliantly capturing the mood and atmosphere of printers.



David’s quiet and considered design gives the subject plenty of room to breathe; and the tipped-in dividers are just wonderful, all featuring Commercial Type typefaces.



We asked David about his experience of designing the book: “What I loved about it was that the Gentle Author has an uncanny ability to bring people with shared interests together on a project. Commercial Type have long been interested in the work of the Caslon Type Foundry, which was based right next to Baddeley Brothers. I’ve worked with Baddeley Brothers on several jobs, and have a strong relationship with Commercial Type too (many of whose typefaces are based on materials held at St Brides).”

There’s a wonderful alchemy going on there, and it’s a rich mix that has produced a stunning result. We can just imagine the joy of some young graphic design student picking it up off the St Bride Printing Library shelves decades hence. No doubt Baddeleys will still be going strong.

Glorious stuff.

Buy the book.

(Graphic) Designer Watches


So, we were at one of the events at the London Design Festival last month, and bumped into a couple of design colleagues. We noticed that all three of us were sporting the same type of watch – the INSTRMNT 01 (above). This made us realise that, although we like to think we’re all special unique unicorns with our own free will, we’re actually just brainless automatons who can’t help but be sucked in by the same things.

But, it did get us wondering: which watches are most popular amongst the design community?

The INSTRMNT watches are made by a small team in Glasgow, and they have a stripped back simplicity that (evidently) appeals to graphic designers. They’re the polar opposite of bling, and adhere closely to Dieter Rams’ Ten Principles for Good Design, particularly ‘Good design is as little design as possible’.

For a very similar feel, you don’t have to go much further than Uniform Wares, who started up in London in 2009, and seem to be a particular favourite of architects:


Of course, you could just go direct to source, with a Braun watch:


Clean, simple, functional.

Another favourite we’ve spotted adorning the wrists of more than a couple of designers is the Max Bill by Junghans:


Max Bill was a Swiss designer, type designer, architect, painter and sculptor (polymath much?) who studied at the Bauhaus under Wassily Kandinsky and Paul Klee. Originally made at the beginning of the 1960s, the watches and clocks he designed for Junghans have a really refined elegance.

For something a little chunkier, but still iconically Swiss, perhaps the Mondaine Official Swiss Railways Watch?


These are based on the patented design of the Swiss railway clock, designed in 1944 by Hans Hilfiker, an employee of the Federal Swiss Railways. The watches were first produced in 1986, and quickly became a classic. They’re sort of the equivalent of big round black framed glasses.

And if you’re discussing Swiss classics, it’s pretty much impossible to avoid mentioning Helvetica. Last year Mondaine produced their Helvetica No. 1 watch:


Naturally they come in light, regular and bold. And as a little additional quirk, the lugs are based on the Helvetica numeral ‘1’. See what they did there? Now, we’re more than happy to see some elegant typography on a watch face… but perhaps calling the watch Helvetica, and sticking the word Helvetica on the face is slightly overcooking it?

Of course, designers are also historically more than a little partial to Apple products, so perhaps the Apple Watch should be included in this list?


We’ve seen a few of them in the wild though, and still don’t really understand what they’re actually for. Where the iPhone felt like a complete game changer when it launched, turning an existing industry on its head, the Apple Watch feels like a bit of a gimmick.

So, which watch ticks the right box for you (if you’ll pardon the pun)? Any of the above? Or something else entirely?

UPDATE (21 October 2015)
We couldn’t let this post stand without including the newly launched Sekford Type 1A watches, which feature bespoke lettering and numbers drawn by Commercial Type. They’re not cheap, by my they’re beautiful.


Browse through the comments below for watch links from other readers.

Also, it’s interesting note how popular the time around ten past ten is for setting the watches to when photographing them. Evidently a watch and clock photographic tradition.

The 2015 D&AD Annual cover


I’m lucky enough to share studio space with two rather talented designers: David Pearson and Paul Finn. We work together from time to time, and our most recent collaboration launched last night: a series of covers for the 2015 D&AD Annual.

D&AD is a ‘global creative design and advertising association’, and the D&AD Annual collects together the best work entered for its yearly awards scheme. Dave was commissioned by GBH’s Mark Bonner, this year’s D&AD President, to create the cover for the Annual.

Dave, Paul and I had been discussing the brief in the studio, chewing over possible solutions. This happens a fair bit, even though we each run our own practices – it’s one of the many benefits of sharing space together. We’d been talking about the fact that when you boil D&AD down to its essence, it’s all about the awards that they give out each year. They come in the form of oversized pencils, and two new ones have been introduced this year: the Wood Pencil and the Graphite Pencil.


The Wood, Graphite and Yellow Pencils roughly equate to bronze, silver and gold awards. The White Pencil is for Yellow Pencil-worthy work that also affects ‘real and positive change in the world through creative thinking’. And the Black Pencil is for work that is ‘ground-breaking in its field’ – only a handful of them are awarded each year, if any.

With the introduction of the full family of five Pencils it felt like the right time to put them front and centre on the cover.

Dave had been playing with a delicious GF Smith wood-effect stock, Woodside Garden Pine, that I’d used for one of my postcards for Benwells, and was looking at ways to incorporate it on the cover. I suggested that it would look great used across the whole cover, and had fished out a D&AD Pencil that I had in one of the drawers next to my desk. Dave took it and stood it on a sheet of the Woodside, and then Paul laid it flat, and we had one of those lovely moments where you all just go ‘Ah! That’s it!’.

Very generously, Dave suggested we work together and make it a collaborative design. We decided on a series of five covers, each one featuring one of the awards at actual size, shown front and back. Clean and simple.






As the project progressed, we tried out a lot of different options, adding in copy, logos and spine text in various shapes and sizes. All along though, we were basically trying to hang on to the simplicity of that initial moment.

This is how the back cover of the Yellow Pencil version looks:


Of course, the idea still had to be turned into actual printed covers. The Woodside stock has a coating on it that can make some inks or foils react in unexpected ways – at one point the covers were all working except the black one, on which you could scratch the ink off with your fingernail. Fortunately for us, D&AD have a fantastic production manager, Martin Lee, who was exceptional at working out the best way to realise the idea. He provided multiple print tests and proofs until they were exactly right.

We’re dead chuffed with the results.

You can buy the D&AD Annual here, and read an interview with Dave about its creation over on It’s Nice That.

Anthony Burrill + Harvey Lloyd


Well now, this is all kinds of lovely.

The good folks at Harvey Lloyd Screen Print in East Sussex have just sent us this promotional booklet, showcasing their services. Designed by Anthony Burrill (who has his own work printed by the team there), it’s an absolute cracker. 14 pages of stunning printing and design on a range of heavyweight substrates (greyboard, acrylic, die-cut 2000 micron Cairn Eco Kraft and more). It even smells fantastic – that stark industrial smell you only get from screenprinting.





They also sent us a couple of promotional flyers – one on a slab of 10mm birch faced plywood, the other on a slab of 10mm thick cork, each of them printed with two flouros and white and black to the front, black only to the reverse.



Fantastic stuff – it’s made us hungry to get busy with a squeegee again.

See more of their work over on Instagram.

Books on our desk

you are the friction cover

We’ve had a few books on our desk recently that we’ve been meaning to shout about.

First up, You Are The Friction, a collection of short stories published by Sing Statistics.

Sing Statistics is the independent press set up by designer Jez Burrows and illustrator Lizzy Stewart. You Are The Friction is their fourth book following I Am The Friction (2008), We Are The Friction (2009), and Reverence Library, Vol. One (2011).

It was actually published at the beginning of 2014, but we only recently picked it up at Beach London (a small gallery just off Brick Lane) and it’s an absolute belter.

It features twelve stories inspired by twelve illustrations, and then twelve illustrations inspired by twelve stories. Short story collections can leave you feeling a little empty – like you’ve been grazing on junk food rather than having a really hearty meal. But this collection is varied and delicious – like the very best tapas, if you’ll excuse us extending that food metaphor just a little too far.

The impressive roster of illustrators even includes the likes of Oliver Jeffers, Tom Gauld and Rob Hunter.

you are the friction spread

Here’s a trailer for the book: a reading of the story ‘Flowers for Pinky Only in Theatres’, written by Joshua Allen, based on an illustration by Scott Campbell.

Great stuff.

Next up, published by Laurence King just last month, is Graphic Design Visionaries, by Caroline Roberts, editor of Grafik, and friend of the studio.


It’s a chronological taster of the work of seventy five leading graphic designers / graphic design studios from right around the world during the twentieth century. A lot of the names you’ll probably know (Abram Games, Paul Rand, Saul Bass, Milton Glaser, Peter Saville, Stefan Sagmeister) but the reach is wide enough to pull in a fair few you may not. Each designer / studio gets a double page spread, just enough to whet your appetite to head off and find out more.




There’s a wealth of fantastic work on display – we particularly like Giovanni Pintori’s work for Olivetti.

Each spread also has a condensed timeline showing the highlights from each designer’s career.



As Caroline mentions in the introduction, there’s a glaring disparity between the number of male and female designers. Unfortunately, graphic design as a profession was largely dominated by men for many decades, but fortunately that’s changed in recent years, and it seems certain that the follow up to this book will have more balance.

You can win a copy of the book over on the Grafik site at the moment (the deadline’s 21 September 2015).

Last but not least, The Little Book of Typographic Ornament, also from Laurence King, will be published later this month.


A rich resource for plundering, the book features ornaments taken from 18th Century type foundry specimen books.

Typographic ornaments were decorative embellishments that could be set at the same time as metal type by a printer. They were available in various forms: rules (uninterrupted straight lines), borders (repeated decorative designs), and printers flowers (or fleurons). They could be used individually, or combined together in elaborate patterns.

Author David Jury lifts the book from just being a basic resource with a concise but thoughtful introduction, and short pieces preceding each section of the book.





You can download complete a zip file of the ornaments from the Laurence King website using a code in the back of the book. Each image is saved as a 1200dpi bitmap – most of them at a fairly decent size.