Every woman adores a fontist.

Ah, the iconic typeface (Davida Bold) that composes the title of Sylvia Plath‘s single novel, The Bell Jar, that long-carried, dog-eared, tear-stained staple of modern (well, Mid-Century Modern) adolescent (well, female adolescent) angst …

It’s funny, in a morbid way, we think, when considering how the author gassed herself to death all head-in-the-oven in W.B. Yeats‘ former apartment on that cold February day in England … It’s funny, we suggest, to be driving along the I-35 access road, heading north through increasing generica and noticing that very same typeface, huge on a billboard, forming the words PARTY STOP.

But, yeah, maybe that’s just us.

This article appears in May 16 • 2008.

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