Margot Type Specimen

Page 1

Margot

TYPEFACE SPECIMEN Designed By Sydney Geller


Margot

Meet Margot

She is powerful stable quirky edgy modern


Introduction

Margot is intended for display type in editorial design. Her unique serifs and grounded letterforms promote powerful, feminine forms. All illustrations of flowers throughout this specimen are medicinal flowers. Similar to the concept of how these are beautiful plants that also heal, the flowers represent the power and strength of women beyond a pretty face.


Margot

Aa Bb Cc Dd Ee Ff Gg Hh Ii Jj Kk Ll Mm Nn Oo Pp Qq Rr Ss Tt Uu Vv Ww Xx Yy Zz 0 123 456 789


Characters

(‘’“”) -–— &!?@ /;,.:\

� �� �� ��


Margot

sheared vertical stems

Love contrasting angled strokes

angular crossbars

your angled strokes

high contrast curves


Features

Identifying the aspects that make Margot unique, including ligatures, angles, and contrast. unique ligatures

rself! flared terminals

footed serifs


g g / 600 pt.


m / 700 pt.


Margot


Context

All entries are composed by female writers in order to display the power, strength, and creativity that women possess. 35 pt.


Margot

Training Our Boys to Take What They Want and Leave 35 pt.

Italian spring blooms in the hearts of children, young chests budding in wild yearning, canvasing Firenze with wisteria seeds. Lace locks of royal hue throne themselves in drooping lattices on the tops of yellow walls. The city sings this coronation.

14 pt.


Context

On Via de Benci’s corner, two boys – one scaling the other – plot to grasp the soft purple tips of the breathing mural. Between his young fingers he grips the petals, seizes a bud and tears, nearly toppling to the cobblestone valley beneath. On the wall remains a withered carcass, a greenvined body like a forgotten queen draping purple curls down the seams of a dying city. –Carrie George

20pt.


Margot

To speak your mind is to plant your focus 60 pt.


Context

To share your soul is to grow To smile at the sun is to blossom You are a flower and you make this garden more breathtaking – Kaitlin Stanaitis

28 pt.


Margot

Carry your 124 pt.


Context

love

as though it were a banner Hold it high for all to see Allow it not to fray, allow it not to tatter Carry it high Your lovely banner

– Samantha Nold

24pt.


Margot

held my own hand before; kissed my

I’ve

own scrapes; whispered

bits of love in my

own ears;

25 / 40 pt.


Context

just because I was the

only one I trusted; or perhaps the only one willing –Kaitlin Stanaitis


Margot

Alternate Universe in which My Body Belongs to Me 30 pt. When a man screams out his car window as he speeds passed me downtown, I follow him. I walk slow, hips swaying in such a way that he might whistle or sweat, but he does not see me coming. I am a bitch. A black-haired bride to no one with knives in the ankles of all my boots. I am the color red, but only in its anger. I am a broken moon, a star once sought-after, distantly examined by men with long telescopes in lonely space stations. I am not seven-years dead I am meteor and I am hell-bent on my own mass extinction. I am tyrannosaurus skeleton. I am bloodied history. I have hands that I use to scratch the bare backs of my lovers.


Context

I am proximity, never afraid of space, always a little bit too close to your neck, a little too hot-breathed, a little too big for this town, a little too spiteful. I spit when I want to and I don’t care who watches. I am curves. A shape too big for time to measure, no pear-shaped or apple—I don’t eat much fruit anyway. I am breasts. Tits. I am one thousand words for giver of life. I nurture when I want to and I know motherhood would look good on me. I have sex with the lights on. I am loud. I am motion. I am hips that sway in such a way that he always sweats. I am action. I am push you against the wall. I am tongue. I am open to the ones who love loudly. I love loudly in this universe where men are not the only ones who scream out car windows. I love myself loudly, transplanting my fists for two beating hearts which I keep open warm and bloody stitched to the ends of my wrists. – Carrie George

10 pt.


sg


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