Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I Made That Shirt

Here in Iceland you may end up putting your foot where your mouth is, sotospeak, if you aren't careful about what you say, where you say it, and to whom. Everyone knows everyone, shops at the same stores, goes to the same bars. It can be comforting in a weird way. But the moment you want to criticize something, be careful. There isn't the same kind of removed constructive critique of artwork that I've found in the States--which is usually a blessing, to try and do whatever you want, learn as you go, but it also puts a lot of weird crap into the world, sometimes without much forethought.

Me: "I love this shirt, but it was printed kind of crappily. And the tag is sewn on badly."
New Friend I'm Trying to Impress: "That's my best friend's shirt company, she made that."
Me: "I, uh, well, the design is great, that's for sure."
Thankfully the shirts have indeed gotten better since then. So all is right in the world.

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