Hello to those who found me from the essay I wrote on race and Substack! I’m grateful for the thoughtful discourse and new friends I made in the process.
To (re)introduce myself, I’m Arden, I grew up in New York City, and I’m now a senior at Yale studying Cognitive Science. The typical structure of an Ad Hoc (Latin for improvised) letter is divided into five categories that fluctuate weekly. Previous letters have contemplated celebrity parasocial relationships, narrativizing our lives, and getting hit by a car.
This week’s categories are Audible Design, Dressing My Age, Hidden Meanings, Oreo Coke, and Camp Woodstock.
A: Audible Design
The assignment for my graphic design class last week was to choose a place, write down what we hear, and then create visual representations of those sounds by arranging six 1x2 inch black rectangles on white poster-board. I picked the Asian American Cultural Center, where I work front desk shifts.
Before beginning, we discussed what constitutes “good” design. Is graphic design supposed to be accessible to everyone, or specialized for a situation-specific audience? How do you approach the impossible task of rendering sound with shapes?
I asked: Even if I have the most logical process and intent, how can I be sure that other people will understand what I am trying to convey?
The answer: You can’t. My professor said that I had articulated the anxieties that all graphic designers cope with, even after they have spent years making a living off of their craft. We all fear being misunderstood, especially when the method of communication is so abstract. A part of the practice is not letting that feeling stop you from experimenting.
Measuring the rectangles and cutting the paper with an exacta-knife was meditative. It was one of my favorite homework assignments I’ve ever done, because I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I think intentionality matters. I also think a part of it is instinctual—we know what looks good, and makes sense.
D: Dressing My Age
I recently hosted a clothing sale with my friends and sold many items I love but don’t wear anymore. I left feeling like I had shed fifty layers of skin and returned to my most basic form. I’ve been gravitating toward simple pieces that are cut well and durable enough to last through my adult life. I switched to silver jewelry. I wear sunglasses all the time. I catch my reflection in store windows and think that my freshman year self would be proud of how my style has evolved. I don’t think the clothes themselves have dramatically changed, I just feel more comfortable in them.
At the end of a long, bad day, I spent a portion of my sale’s proceeds on black and white t-shirts and tank tops. I was thinking about longevity and versatility. My teenage Brandy Melville/Reformation/Urban Outfitters phase may be slow fading away…and I am excited to see what takes its place.
I write more about getting dressed here:
H: Hidden Meanings
I’m reading two books right now, one for fun and one for class. Both are English translations from other languages. My leisure read is The Unbearable Lightness of Being by the Czech author Milan Kundera. It is wonderfully whimsical and romantic while being constrained by random luck and human fallibility.
For my Korean literature course, I’m reading Three Generations by Yeom Sang-seop, a novel about a family in Japan-occupied Korea. I don’t read Korean, but most of my peers do, and we discussed what is lost in the process of translation. In Korean, you use different tones of formality depending on age, class, and level of education of the speakers, but the English dialogue all looks the same. Sometimes the translator takes creative liberty and omits critical details. One bilingual student read two sentences side by side, and they did not match at all.
My professor said that we can acknowledge its limitations, but we are reliant on the English version and have to respect the choices the translator has made. This is a generous take—I still find myself disappointed about everything I am missing when the author sacrifices his voice to become comprehensible to me.
BUT there’s something really magical too. Human feelings about relationships, love, desire, jealousy, greed, and insecurity transcend language and time period. I could be reading about a young couple in Prague, or a father and son in 1930’s occupied Seoul, and know exactly how they are feeling because I have also been confused by a family member or betrayed by a friend. Humans are predictable, so are our characters.
O: Oreo Coke
I love when brands collab because it reminds me of the crossover episodes between Disney Channel shows in the late 2000s. Oreo and Coca Cola recently released two products: Oreo-flavored Coke Zero and Coca-Cola-flavored Oreos. I bought the Oreos at Walgreens and two employees told me how good they were. My friends and I gathered on Friday night for a taste test.
The coke tasted like regular Coke Zero but with a chocolate cookie aftertaste, which was weird, but not unpleasant. The cookie had red popping candy (to represent carbonation?) and reminded me of the gummy coke bottles from Haribo. I thought both were fun to try, but I would much rather have a plain Diet Coke and a regular Oreo. Combining two good things doesn’t make them better. The originals are classics for a reason!!
C: Camp Woodstock
I spent a weekend at Camp Woodstock, a YMCA campsite in Connecticut, for a staff retreat. 30 of us boarded a yellow school bus. I packed a towel, a pillow, a throw blanket, and a pair of shoes to wear in the shower. The water was so metallic it tasted like blood. I kayaked by myself on a big lake, and every time I lifted the oar, water would drip onto my legs. We had a bonfire and roasted marshmallows, and then burned our sticks when we were finished using them. None of the doors to the cabins were locked. I didn't bring my phone with me; the wifi was terrible.
The environment was perfect for group bonding. Trust was essential. Honesty felt easier. I highly recommend going into nature, letting your devices die, and walking barefoot on the ground. You can’t get any closer to the real thing.
See you next week! I’m so happy you’re here.
omg arden this is a genius way of formatting your newsletters and the content was incredible...i'm in love
Absolutely in love with your design for "jangling keys." While I generally dislike the more interpretive art, I genuinely would get a print of that for my desk. The way it literally looks like the sound of someone coming home!!!!