I love geometric sans serifs, their crispness and rationality. Le Havre taps into this style, but for a while, I've wanted to create a font recalling the printed Futura of the 1940s, which seems to have an elusive quality all its own. After seeing an old manual on a World War II ship, I developed a plan for "Le Havre Metal" but chose to shelve the project due to Le Havre's small x-height. That's where Steagal comes in. When Robbie de Villiers and I began the Chatype project in early 2012 (a project which led one publication to label me the Edward Johnston of Chattanooga!), we started closely studying the vernacular lettering of Chattanooga. During that time, I also visited Switzerland, where I saw how designers were using a new, handmade aesthetic with a geometric base. I was motivated to make a new face combining some of these same influences. The primary inspiration for the new design came from the hand-lettering of sign painters in the United States, circa 1930s through 1950s. My Chatype research turned up a poster from the Tennessee Valley Authority in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which exhibited a number of quirks from the unique hand and style of one of these sign artists. Completing the first draft of Steagal, however, I found that the face appeared somewhat European in character. I turned then to the work of Morris Fuller Benton for a distinctly American take and discovered a number of features that would help define Steagal as a "1930s American" vernacular typeface--features I later learned also inspired Morris Fuller Benton's Eagle. The overall development of Steagal was surprisingly difficult, knowing when to deliberately distort optical artifacts and when to keep them in place. Part of type design is correcting optical illusions, and I found myself absentmindedly adjusting the optical effects. In the end, though, I was able to draw inspiration from period signs, inscriptions, period posters, and architecture while retaining just enough of the naive sensibility. Steagal has softened edges, which simulate brush strokes and retain the feeling of the human hand. The standard version has unique quirks that are not too intrusive. Overshoots have almost been eliminated, and joins have minimal corrections. The rounded forms are mathematically perfect, geometric figures without optical corrections. As a variation to the standard, the “Rough” version stands as the "bad signpainter" version with plenty of character. Steagal Regular comes in five weights and is packed with OpenType features. Steagal includes three Art Deco Alternate sets, optically compensated rounded forms, a monospaced variant, and numerous other features. In all, there are over 200 alternate characters. To see these features in action, please see the informative .pdf brochure. OpenType capable applications such as Quark or the Adobe Creative suite can take full advantage of the automatically replacing ligatures and alternates. Steagal also includes support for all Western European languages. Steagal is a great way to subtly draw attention to your work. Its unique quirks grab the eye with a authority that few typefaces possess. Embrace its vernacular, hand-brushed look, and see what this geometric sans serif can do for you.

INTRODUCTION When I started the first Selfie back in 2014 I was aware that I was designing something innovative at some point, because at that time there were not too many, (if any) fonts which rescued so many calligraphy features being at the same time a monolinear sans. I took inspiration from the galerías’ neon signs of my home city, Buenos Aires, and incorporated the logic and ductus of the spencerian style. The result was a very versatile font with many ligatures, swashes and a friendly look. But… I wasn’t cognizant of how successful the font would become! Selfie is maybe the font of my library that I see the most when I finally go out, (type-designers tend to be their entire lives glued to a screen), when I travel, and also the font that I mostly get emails about, asking for little tweaks, new capitals, new swashes. Selfie was used by several renowned clients, became part of many ‘top fonts of the year’ lists and was published in many magazines and books about type-design. These recognitions were, at the same time, cuddles for me and my Selfie and functioned as a driving force in 2020 to start this project which I called Selfie Neue. THE FONT "Selfie for everything" Selfie Neue, because it’s totally new: All its glyphs were re-drawn, all the proportions changed for better, and the old and somehow naive forms of the first Selfie were redesigned. Selfie Neue is now a family of many members (you can choose between a Rounded or a Sharp look), from Thin to Black, and from Short to Tall (because I noticed the feel of the font changed notoriously when altering its proportions). It also includes swashy Caps, which will serve as a perfect match for the lowercase and some incredibly cute icons/dingbats (designed by the talented Melissa Cronenbold, see also Selfie Neue Rounded for more!) which, as you see in the posters, make the font even more attractive and easy to use. You'll find tons of alternates per glyph. It's impossible to get tired with Selfie! Like it happened with the old Selfie, Selfie Neue Sharp was thought for a really wide range of uses. Magazines, Book-covers, digital media, restaurants, logos, clothing, etc. Hey! The font is also a VF (Variable Font)! So you can have fun with its two axes: x-height and weight, in applications that support them. Let me take a New Sharp Selfie! TECHNICAL If you plan to print Selfie Neue VF (Rounded or Sharp), please remember to convert it to outlines first. The majority of the posters above have the "contextual" alternates activated, and this makes the capitals a little smaller. I'd recommend deactivating it if you plan to use Selfie for just one word. Use the font always with the "fi" feature activated so everything ligatures properly. The slant of the font is 24,7 degrees, so if you plan to have its stems vertical, you may use Selfie with that rotation in mind. THANKS FOR READING

Father's Day, or June 17 of this year, is in the middle of Argentinian winter. And like people do on wintery Sunday mornings, I was bundled up in bed with too many covers, pillows and comforters. Feeling good and not thinking about anything in particular, Father's Day was nowhere in the vicinity of my mind. My eleven year old son, Matías, came into the room with a handmade present for me. Up to this point, my Father's Day gift history was nothing unusual. Books, socks, hand-painted wooden spoons, the kind of thing any father would expect from his pre-teen son. So you can understand when I say I was bracing myself to fake excitement at my son's present. But this Father's Day was special. I didn't have to fake excitement. I was in fact excited beyond my own belief. Matí's handmade present was a complete alphabet drawn on an A4 paper. Grungy, childish, and sweeter than a ton of honey. He'd spent days making it, three-dimensioning the letters, wiggle-shadowing them. Incredible. A common annoyance for graphic designers is explaining to people, even those close to them, what they do for a living. You have to somehow make it understandable that you are a visual communicator, not an artist. Part of the problem is the fact that "graphic designer" and "visual communicator" are just not in the dictionary of standard professions out there. If you're a plumber, you can wrap all the duties of your job with 3.5 words: I'm a plumber. If you're a graphic designer, no wrapper, 3.5 or 300 words, will ever cover it. I've spent many hours throughout the years explaining to my own family and friends what I do for a living, but most of them still come back and ask what it is exactly that I do for dough. When you're a type designer, that problem magnifies itself considerably. When someone asks you what you do for a living, you start looking for the nearest exit, but none of the ones you can find is any good. All the one-line descriptions are vague, and every single one of them queues a long, one-sided conversation that usually ends with someone getting too drunk listening, or too tired of talking. Now imagine being a type designer, with a curious eleven year old son. The kid is curious as to why daddy keeps writing huge letters on the computer screen. Let's go play some ball, dad. As soon as I finish working, son. He looks over my shoulder and sees a big twirly H on the screen. To him it looks like a game, like I'm not working. And I have to explain it to him again. This Father's Day, my son gave me the one present that tells me he finally understands what I do for a living. Perhaps he is even comfortable with it, or curious enough about that he wants to try it out himself. Either way, it was the happiest Father's Day I've ever had, and I'm prouder of my son than of everything else I've done in my life. This is Matí's font. I hope you find it useful.