Tag: Dell

  • Taiwan Central Cross Highway By Bike

    Taiwan Central Cross Highway By Bike

    'Adequate' climbing on day two of the ride

    This is the big one: 248km, 5,072m of climbing, peaking at a mighty 3275m. Taichung to Hualien by bike, with my friend and colleague Tony.

    Bisecting the ridge of mountains that run down the centre of the island, the most direct route leaves Taichung and follows Route 14 up to Puli, through Renai, and switches onto the old Route 8 before reaching the peak and dropping down into Toroko on the way to the coast.

    [custom_field field=”Google Map – Cross Island” this_post=”1″ limit=”0″ between=”, ” /]

    Step one was therefore to get the bikes down to Taichung on the HSR. There is an good guide to travelling with bikes on the train network here at Taiwan in Cycles. I have travelled with both road and mountain bikes on the HSR, but only in a large, padded bag. This time, we had heavy-weight rubbish bags supplied by Alljack Models. We planned on recycling them, carrying them with us to use on the return trip (more on that later).

    Tony at the HSR station

    Spicy, greasy food and one too many beers was not the finest foundation to getting a good night of sleep, so I awoke the next day feeling pretty depleted when we met Joel and Diego. They offered to show us some more interesting back roads out of the back of Taichung, avoiding the overcrowded route 14 up to Puli; screw the most direct route.

    Day 1 – Taichung to Lushan, via Guosing

    The morning light pouring through the trees and the beautiful scenery was an effective pain-killer substitute. Tony and I were treated to some strenuous climbing and sinuous descending before the guys peeled off back for base. Therefore, by the time we got to the lunch stop at the beginning of the climb up to Renai, we had already done a serious 75km ride, and still had 40km of climbing to our accommodation in Lushan.

    With my Garmin GPS merrily chirping each time we passed a km marker, and with an eye on the altitude, we slowly winched ourselves up the hill to Renai. It is pretty well graded, and we were lucky with a pleasant temperature and mild tail wind, but still, crawling up through the 1000m altitude barrier seemed to take an age. A stop at a kindly fruit seller was sorely needed to recharge our batteries and push trough the final 12 km.

    Call it lack of research or planning, but I had accommodation booked in Lushan that was about 150m further down the valley. I had to tolerate the harassed stare of Tony, as I cheerfully pointed out where we were staying: it meant a steep descent that we knew we had to climb again the following morning.

    A relaxed evening of eating dinner (twice), and hot springs, meant I slept much better, and was in much better shape the next morning (be aware that the Family Mart is not 24hr, so buy breakfast the night before). For reference, we stayed at the Minglu Hotel, and they were fine with us having bikes in the room.

    Tony on the road out of Taichung, the sun rising in front of us.
    Joel, Diego and Tony point the way up through the first of the day's climbing
    Stopping to admire the local graphics design
    Take a look in the mirror
    My pack list included flip flops and trash bags. Tony's included an entire Apple store.
    Alternative modes of transport
    Team photo – thanks to Diego and Joel – awesome riding chaps!
    Wide-screen riding
    Tony makes a new friend
    Yummy pears!

    Day 2 – Lushan to Xincheng

    The opening climb dispatched (and insults swatted away), we again reached Renai and the start of the climb proper. Keeping a decent cadence, we passed increasingly unlikely hotels and resorts, themed to resemble Swiss chalets, German villages, and imagined English mountain-top castles. The GPS chirping less frequently than I would have liked, we slowly winched our way up the hill, stopping at the 7-11s that we passed to keep the fluids topped up and energy maintained. There were plenty of other cyclists on the road – many that we bumped into multiple times on the climb – but we were humbled when we chatted to two guys on folding bikes (sporting speakers and huge luggage panniers) that said they woke at 2am to ride up from Taichung to the peak in one day. Respect.

    Altitude definitely begins to become a factor when you hit 1500-2000m, and it became increasingly difficult to keep the momentum up steep sections and keep from hyperventilating. But still the kilometres passed by (bleep!), and the good weather and increasingly beautiful views kept the motivation boiling. But things were beginning to get difficult, and it was clear we were beginning to dig deeper and deeper to keep the cranks turning; I lost count of the number of times I looked down to check I really was in my lowest gear.

    Leaving behind the last of the tourist honey pots, the tree cover receded, the road narrowed and the conversation dropped. We had reached cycling purgatory, and the last minutes of climbing were among the hardest physical ordeals I have ever been through. Cadence had dropped to a level where it was a challenge to even stay upright. Finally, we broke through the throng of cars and people, less than gracefully dismounted, and climbed the steps up to the 3275m sign; we had done it. Chirp indeed!

    One Tony’s riding buddies in Austin is in charge of a battalion of army attack helicopters. His reaction to our climb was as follows:

    You likely experienced hypemic hypoxia above 10K’ as do pilots. The lack of partial pressure of O2 degrades your motor skills and vision. We’re only aloud to fly above 10K’ for 30 minutes, then back below. Stay safe.

    So that’s nice.

    Stopping for some quick snaps on the bridge out of Lushan
    Up in the clouds
    Tony smiling, though not sure why, as he was complaining like a big baby for most of the opening km 🙂
    The morning sunlight was lovely – starting at 6:30am or so
    The Old England Hotel in Renai
    Day 2 climbing classed as 'adequate'
    Passing through the tree line, and the road narrows
    The soul-destroying final kilometres up to the summit … that line carved in the side of the mountain was to be our prison on wheels
    3118m … no wait shouldn't that be 3275m?
    Ever more people joined our victory photo, until we ended up with about 20 people in the photo; some of which I am not even sure cycled up
    View from the other side, looking over to the restaurant on the right

    And so onto the descent – how does 100km sound, through some of the most stunning scenery in Asia?

    Suitably fuelled with hot food and tea at the mountain-top restaurant, we pointed our bikes downwards. The euphoric high of reaching the top probably meant I lacked some self control, and I had to remind myself to slow down to avoid disappearing over a cliff edge into oblivion. With the GPS merrily chirping away, we descended back through the tree line, the train station a solid 100km away. The descent is actually less steep than the climb, and for that reason it seemed to take an age to drop back down through each successive 100m attitude mark.

    Stopping occasionally to allow my hands to unfold (my ring fingers welded themselves shut), and recompose ourselves, we hugged cliffs, shot over bridges, squirted our through endless switchbacks, cyclo-crossed our way over landslides, and bounced over pot holes caused by rocks smashing into the road. Seasons shifted and temperatures dropped as we dropped through misty clouds, and we had to hold on for grim life as we went through blind, completely unlit tunnels, with the only light bouncing off the reflectors on the walls to show the way. Hint: whatever you do, bring lights.

    We passed over original Eiffel bridges, imported from Vietnam after the communists took power, circled past thousand year trees and slowly the km markers began to show we were coming within shooting distance of Tianxiang – the town at the mouth of Toroko Gorge. I had tickets booked on the 17:30 train (I thought this would be generous), but with light just beginning to fade it was clear time was limited; we were to be descending for a full four and half hours.

    I was positive that Tianxiang was a town at some altitude, but it turns out it is at a lowly 600m, a mere 30km from the mouth of the river feeding into the Pacific Ocean. Tony and I upped the pace, surging through the marble rock formations and past the throngs of day-trippers staring up the vertical canyon walls. I had actually imagined that we would stop to take it all in, but like horses running quicker as they approach the stables, we found the energy reserves to steam through it with nary a backwards glance. Streamlining buses, we shot through the last of the tunnels and emerged onto the flood plain and rolled into Xincheng train station: we had done it.

    Stopping to move food from my bag to my pockets (Clif Shot Blocks are perfect, by the way)
    Crossing a real Eiffel bridge on the descent
    Yep – meant for Vietnam, apparently
    Endless switchback heaven. Make sure to employ the mirrors on the turns though – some traffic always seemed to come the other way at the least opportune moment
    Bridge crossing
    The weather shifted quickly on the way down – much like our Nenggao mission we had a downpour mid-afternoon. Be prepared.

    We had soundly missed our original train at 17:30, so I went to buy tickets for the 18:00 train (luckily they still had seats). We went to buy some beer and nosh, and then walked up to the gate with out tickets … our bikes were not allowed on! Arguing didn’t help, so we went to talk to the ticket seller; he suggested we take the ‘bike train’ (didn’t he see my bike helmet earlier?). We were delighted to see that they had actually laid on dedicated carriages for bicycles, with their own seating. Never has an Asahi tasted so good.

    Carriage details
    How insanely great is this?!
    All's well that ends well

     

    Route & Map

    [custom_field field=”Strava – Cross Island” this_post=”1″ limit=”0″ between=”, ” /]

     

    Links & Resources

    Strava Data

    Taiwan in Cycles – Hualien to Taichung

    Taiwan in Cycles – Pack List

    Taiwan in Cycles – Trains & Bikes

    Alternative route, removing first day of epic climbing

  • Designing a Notebook

    The penny dropped when my own Father announced that his company was ordering them for their employees; the heat was really on!

    Rewind; the Vostro brand, specifically established to provide Small Business owners with IT solutions. Until this point, the products were good value and worthy, but the brand had a pretty low profile. We needed a hit.

    The insight; a large segment of the small-business market are highly customer-facing, and they need products that shout ‘confidence’. We needed a thin, light, ‘cool’ notebook that could survive life on the road, had the power to punch through work, and that would make no excuses in the business-class lounge.

    Process

    Designing a notebook computer is about more than a nice sketch. The two most important things that the Dell design team needs to drive are the architecture, and the specification of the product. Drive poorly, and you end up with a product that is optimised for the factory instead of the user, and crammed full with every possible feature, port and widget. With notebooks especially, it’s what you choose to leave out that makes the product.

    Working with layout teams at our key suppliers and employing new ‘Hyperbaric’ cooling technologies from Intel, we followed precedents set by the Dell Adamo notebook by kicking out the area behind the hinge; the reality is that business owners need traditional network and VGA cables. We also knew that if we could get all the ports away from the sides, we would be left with a blade-like profile, really allowing the thinning effort to shine. However, we also wanted an ‘honest’ front section, eschewing chamfering and other cheats to make things appear thinner than they really are; the ‘dipped’ front portion also houses the antennas and provides a degree of drop protection.

    Breaking traditions of delivering ‘black boxes’ we wrapped the device in a jacket of anodised aluminium. The procurement team really delivered the bacon here; no one expected we could get a completely aluminium chassis in this price bracket.

    Opening it up, we wanted a clean, uncluttered environment for getting work done. Getting brutally simple, we hid the hinges away from view; this took engagement with secondary and tertiary suppliers in the USA and China, shaving 0.05mm at time from the zinc alloy and designing one of the smallest hinge profiles ever seen in a notebook. This eventually became an iconic design feature of the product.

    But it’s also about getting work done, right? Perceived quality of keyboards is closely related to the stiffness of the chassis. Magnesium is the hero here; it provides by far the best stiffness-to-weight ratio, and allowed us to go even further with the thinning. The aforementioned ‘hidden hinges’ help keep it sober and professional.

    Camping out at the supplier in Taiwan, and with frequent trips to China to work with suppliers, we finally delivered a product that landed Vostro on the map, scooping multiple awards and praise from the press.

    But nothing quite beats seeing my Dad using one.

    Media

    Awards

  • Superbowl XLV

    Superbowl XLV

    Sunday was, naturally, Superbowl. The Pittsburgh Steelers played against the Greenbay Packers, in a northern-states head-to-head. This was my first Superbowl, so I was pretty excited to join in with the junk food, half-time adverts and shouting at an inert black box.  I had effectively no idea what was happening the entire time, asked countless silly questions, and was probably more intrigued by some of the strange advertising; which was, I must say, a let-down.

    Still, it was lots of fun to be there with committed Packers fans, and a bunch of work friends. You can’t but help be swept up in the sheer enthusiasm and pomp of the thing.

    Team Latitude enjoy an afternoon of sport (on the sofa)

    Insanely excited kids, air pumping and whooping at about age four.

    Welcome to America, folks.

  • Enchanted Rock

    Enchanted Rock

    West of Austin is Texas Hill Country; an area of rugged hills that reaches as far as the suburbs, and provides access to some pretty splendid hiking and biking.  One of the tourist honeypots of the area is Enchanted Rock, an enormous granite rock dome, rising 130m above the surrounding area. We thought it would be a grand day out for the Bogners, Lattos and, well,  Biddle.  Perhaps due to the ‘snowpocalypse’ of the previous week, there were fewer people venturing out – and this combined with the fantastic weather and cool air, made for a great day.

    ENCHANTED ROCK.  YEAH!

    It was steep!

    Skylar has different ideas on the route. “Should we stop him?’

    Les Bogneurs

    The girls were on fine form!

    Rugged, yet thoughtful.  The designer’s designer.

    Flyin’ high!

    Which way?

    Whoa!

    Eric gives me the thousand-yard Texas stare.  The children’s clothing draped round his neck finishes the look.

    GOOD TIMES

    Practising for when he needs to work at Dell.

    Peekaboo!

    Different shades of cuteness.

    Yay!

    The adventurer sets off once again

    Pistols at dawn.

    Granite

    After, we headed to the truly bizarre Trois Estate … home of a faux-real Texan Mexican ranch church grotto cap-gun museum wine bar.  All slightly unhinged, but lots of fun.

    Accessories.

    Doors leading somwhere

    Silly moos.

    Silly cow.

    Dinner was at one of the ‘seven’ true Texan barbecues; Coopers. I have to say it was not a patch on the truly carcinogenic Louis Mueller’s … I still dream of the steak brisket I had there.

    Staring at the stuffed animals on the wall.

    Admiring their collection of barbed wire history.

    Main street, Llamo, and time to head home.

  • Snowpocalypse Austin

    Snowpocalypse Austin

    The weather on this trip to the USA has been pretty insane; sub-zero conditions, chilled winds, freezing roads, and more than a little danger. For anyone from a cold, wet country, you might take temperatures of a mere -6 degrees celsius in your stride. Such lows literally bring Texas to a sliding halt, though. There is zero infrastructure for handling the ice on the roads, people have no idea how to drive in such conditions, and the number and width of roads makes gritting a pain; forget about salt.

    Walking out on Friday morning onto South Congress, I was presented with a comical scene of cars sliding around; many failing even to make it up the slope of the bridge to down-town. Indeed, a pick-up truck with a Mexican family in it was totally stuck, unable to move.  With the whole family in the front, no weight in the back and no experience in these conditions it wasn’t perhaps a surprise. With a look of horror on the face of the driver, I pointed at the son in the back and we bumped, pushed and cajoled the vehicle up the slope, and he gave me a friendly wave goodbye. Job done. I must admit that I did not, however, help the Mercedes that got itself into the same situation a minute later!

    Mercedes, stuck half-way up the incline.

    Messing around in the snow.

    An unusual site in Texas!

    An Austin snowman! – shot with iPhone + Instagram

    Icicles– shot with iPhone + Instagram

    Foot prints – shot with iPhone + Instagram

  • LA LA Land

    LA LA Land

    While Taiwan celebrates Chinese New Year, my boss took the opportunity to bring me over to Austin for a week or two with the team.  I didn’t struggle too hard, since I can reschedule the holiday, and anyway flights out of Taiwan are pretty expensive during the holiday period. I have been through LA a couple of times, but never stopped for more than a couple of hours, escaping from LAX to  Manhattan Beach for a swift beer.

    This time, however, was different. I finally took Pip up on his offer to visit, and he picked me up at the airport in his new Range Rover. Without hesitation, he asked ‘do you surf?’ and I was too deep in exhaustion and jet lag to say anything else but ‘hell yes’ … I am not going to look a gift horse (or a Brit in a Range Rover) in the mouth.  So, before I had even sat down, I was walking out of a surf shop in Santa Monica with surf board and wet suit in hand.  Life is Awesome.  Otherwise known as LA.

    Range Rover + Surf Boards x Los Angeles = Pip Tompkin

    Pip in his natural environment

    Manhattan Beach in the daytime … long board in hand.

    Limited snowboarding and wake-boarding experience have even more limited application to surfing, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me from trying.  I mean, first time surfing here … what a start.  Pip gave me the basic pep talk; essentially, paddle really quickly, jump up in one motion, don’t fall off … and we were off.  I was far from completely fluid, but I did legitimately have some real standing time … I will be back.

    After an extended chat on the beach and with my brain still being faxed over from Asia, we spot that the waves had receded.  We grabbed the boards, paddled out to beyond the break, and hung out a little more.  Some fins approach in the distance … “are they sharks?” I calmly ask.  No, a school of dolphins swims by us, flirting in the wake.  I bob there, mouth agape, and more than a little overwhelmed by the scene of dolphins, salt spray, and California rising up in the distance.

    Jet lag completely forgotten, I decide this is time to catch a proper wave for the first time, and am caught by a fairly serious swell building up behind me. Arms darting into the salt water, I build up precisely the right amount of speed to catch the full momentum of the wave, and it picks me up like a rag doll as I dive off the six-foot wall of water.  Screaming like a schoolboy (and with feet flying into the air) I plummet to oblivion, only to be spun around like an old t-shirt at the bottom of a washing machine.  Twice.

    Emerging from the water, I had nothing but a smile on my face, and water leaking out of my ears.  My first proper wipe-out.  Time for a burger.  Time for In ‘n’ Out Burger.

    While only having about three things on the menu, other styles, ingredients and upgrades can be had with the use of secret code names … a very cool idea.

    The burger was pretty awesome, but mazing out on all the code names that I could think of broke my flat-mate’s #1 rule of buying burgers: get the basic one.  ‘Animal Style’ and whatever happened to the fries, was delicious, but oh so oily.  Ah well, start as I mean to go on!

    After a quick brunch at Santa Monica staple, Norms, it was time for a tour of the LA sights.  Naturally, we swap cars for something a little more befitting of Beverley Hills, Bel Air and Hollywood; yup – a drop-top BMW coupé.  Music, shades and attitude packed, we prowled the streets, wowing at the cars on display, the wanton display of wealth, and imagining what celebrities are waiting around the corner (or at least I did).  Since we were not rich Chinese tourists, we pointed the car at the mountains, and took in views of Hollywood from Mulholland Drive.  It was surreal, taking in all these sights that I knew so well, and yet had never seen.

    Wait a moment for the movie to load

    Pip has two rather beautiful fixed-gear bikes, and he was kind enough to take out his baby for a spin – what a host.  Cruising along Venice Beach was a cultural lesson in taking recreation very seriously; this is the melting pot that lead to skateboarding, surfing, hip-hop and BMX.  It’s pretty humbling, and highly entertaining to see new forms of street culture bubbling up in front of your eyes.

    Swap four wheels for two.

    LA all the way.

    Cavendish takes the green jersey.

    Santa Monica amusement park at sunset … why doesn’t the whole of America live here?

    Watching the scene; I could stay here the whole day.

    An absolutely phenomenal weekend … thanks so much Shannon and Pip.  You are welcome in Asia!

  • Finding an Industrial Design Job in Asia

    Finding an Industrial Design Job in Asia

    Leaving design school, it can be really tough to pick a career direction; let alone find a job.  Believing ‘change brings opportunity’, after graduating in 2003 I decided to head east and cut my teeth in Asia.  Now all I needed was a job, and a destination.

    Since I had never been to Asia before (it seems ridiculous to write that now), I lacked any connections or experience in the region.  What I did have was a resume that I had been building since leaving high-school that packed a solid range of work experience and internships in some well-known companies.  Crucially, a design education that included engineering and management training gave me the advantage of providing something a little different.  All this provided a good foundation to start the search.

    Leaving Europe.  The night before, I had a pain in my stomach unlike anything I had ever felt before … but since the cost of changing my ticket to come home was only €25, I tricked myself into leaving anyway; and almost seven years later, here I am.

    Working remotely, it was difficult to get a grasp of the ‘landscape’ of the design industry.  I naturally applied through the variety of HR web portals that larger companies maintain, but was not surprised when I did not hear anything back.  I browsed design company web sites, pestered my lecturers for alumni contact information, targeted conferences and design festivals looking for speakers and sponsors, and even pored through design award books looking for names.  Anything that could give me the crucial ‘@’, that allowed me to crack the e-mail code was considered.

    After months of freelancing, interviewing in the UK, and more than a little frustration, I finally hit pay-dirt when an innocuous ad for Asus Computers’ design team in Taipei popped up on Coroflot.com.  Phone interviews were followed by a face-to-face in Germany, and before I knew it, I had an offer.  I finally hit the ground on May 14th 2004; a solid ten months after graduating.  Do not underestimate the power of resourcefulness, patience and perseverance (and even a little cunning).

    My first few weeks on the ground were at first a little perplexing.

    I struck it lucky with that advert, but a cross-section of my international friends in the region reveals a similar picture; get stuck in with research, and don’t give up.  Nothing beats getting your feet on the ground out here, so book that plane ticket (ask your school to see if there are travel or research bursaries).  No-one is going to begrudge a meeting with you if you have flown half-way round the world, and it’s likely that if you do meet with other designers out here, your spirit of adventure will likely mean they are more open to help you.  You’ll be surprised.

    18 months on Asus’ design team was followed by almost three years in design studio, DEM.  And this bring me today, working for Dell on the notebook design team, deeply ingrained in the Taiwanese ‘industrial organism’, and a full paid-up member of the Asian Industrial Design Community.  More about that next time.

    Taking trains to visit vendors in China.

  • Things I Learned After Graduating Design School

    Things I Learned After Graduating Design School

    “Well, they didn’t teach us this in design school”

    These exchanges seem to happen with some regularity in the Dell design team.  So it got us thinking, what didn’t they – or couldn’t they – teach us in design school?  What do we wish we knew then, that we think we know now?

    Somewhat inspired by the list penned by Architect Michael McDonough, this is what the team came up with.  What else would you add?

    1. It’s not about design.

    Working away in the school studio, you’ll have more time and ability to focus on a single task than at any time in your professional design career.  Savour this luxury.  Instead, you’ll be facing a constant barrage of vague briefs, irrational clients, opaque politics, moving goalposts and suppliers that suddenly can’t deliver.  It will be the ability to hop, skip and jump between these obstacles that will keep you sane, and help you thrive.

    You’ll discover that the world does not revolve around your final sketch.  Compared to the amount invested in your beautiful little scribble, actually getting it to market will take technical, marketing and logistical resources many orders of magnitude greater.  You’ll discover you have to develop the ability to speak the tongues of business, of engineers and of countless other functions if you want to keep the little germ of your idea alive.  And you will, but before that …

    Borrowed from Flickr user 2plus2isfive

    Glasgow School of Art in Scotland where I studied Product Design Engineering … photo borrowed from Flickr user 2plus2is5

    2. Your ideas will die, often horribly.

    The pain of seeing something beautiful rejected by a client is beaten only by seeing it mutate into a hideous zombie, out of your control, and yet entirely your responsibility.  You’ll physically revolt as you complete the umpteenth round of revisions, at the behest of someone wearing far worse shoes than you.  You’ll mutter under your breath, willing it to die, and loaf around like a teenager, high on hormones that have lain dormant since puberty.  If it makes it to market (as these zombie projects inevitably do), the shock of seeing it in the flesh will make you wonder whether you are really cut out for design.  Take consolation in the fact that complete annihilation of an idea means potential resurrection.

    The hit-rate of products making it all the way will be considerably lower than your expectations.  Working in a consultancy, you might see 5% of your projects making it past the finish line.  If you are lucky or working somewhere with comically low levels of risk, you might be seeing 50% of your work prevail.  Just be ready for constant and repeated failure; but it’s from failure that victory takes flight.

    Thomas Fishburn - Marketoonist

    Marketoonist Tom Fishburne nails it in his pithy cartoons.

    3.  You are not as good as you want to be.

    Not in a bad way, it just means you have not yet fulfilled your potential.

    As Ira Glass points out in these magnificent videos, the reason you got into design (or any creative profession) is because you have taste.  You’ll float through school, get that first job and have this faint, nagging sensation that what you are working on is not all that good.  This will continue for years, until that impeccable taste you have been nurturing is finally matched by your blossoming abilities.  I began to feel confident after four or five years, and this perhaps matches Malcom Gladwell’s theories that it takes about 10,000 hours of work to really get good at something – but it’s no race, and some days it feels like I have regressed back to the start.

    So be aware that you suck a little bit, use it as fuel to improve, but don’t let it get you down.  In fact…

    4. Be patient.

    Getting your first full-time design job can be a total pain. I graduated, went traveling for a couple of months, came back and started looking for employment.  Amid phases of freelancing, job searches, twiddling my thumbs and interviewing, I ate up about ten months until I started on my first day at grown-up work.  But once you are in, you are in, and you will be surprised how quickly you develop networks and relationships to take you to the next level.

    Waiting to get something you are proud of in your folio may also take an age.  See #2.  Some of the work you are doing will be helping to set a direction, which will then turn into real projects with lead-times about the same length as your entire professional career; cell phones and other electronic equipment typically take 9 months to a year to flow from ID model to the shopfront.  Factor in aforementioned failures, and you could easily be waiting several years before you get your first product on sale.

    So, slow down.  Be realistic.  And be thankful you don’t work in the pharmaceutical industry where development times can be measured in decades.  Unless you are working in the pharmaceutical industry, that is.

    Keep Designing

    Never stop pushing.  Write, take photos, sketch, make models; pick your poison and hone your skills.  At the same time, don’t be afraid to chase people, hunt for e-mail addresses and generally ignore signs to give up.  Nothing worth fighting for ever came easily.

    5. You will hate it.

    Perhaps because you do something that you love, when things go wrong (and they will) you will hate it.  Not just ‘I hate Tuesdays’, or ‘my boss is annoying’.  No, this is unfocused rage, ignited by feelings of injustice at a project being canceled, or disconsolation when your software skills mean the 3D model breaks down at midnight before the presentation.  You’ll probably become more philosophical with age, and pass the baton of frustration onto some other unsuspecting junior, but don’t completely lose the ability to hate things.  It means you care, and this energy will be what spurs you on to greater heights of quality and delivery.

    But sorry, if you want a nice, stable job without any troughs, get a job in a bank.  Just don’t expect as many peaks either.

    6. Making things that look easy is difficult.

    It’s easy to look at the single-piece rubber base of a Macbook, the striking interface simplicity of a Flip, or the bold silhouette of Dr. Dre’s headphones and think ‘I could do that’.  Masked behind this apparent simplicity are technical challenges, organisational ‘feature creep’ inertia and battles over risk and cost.  90% of good quality is design is in the execution, but sadly this will be out of your control unless you start doing more legwork.  From the moment your idea hits paper, it will try its damnedest to become as ugly as possible by the time it first greets customers;  you’ll discover that some obscure country requires its regulatory logo to be as large as a postage stamp, that in order to meet recycling criteria it will need to be assembled with large screws, and that the white plastic you wanted to use has been bought-up by Nintendo for the Christmas Wii rush.  Facing these these problems, all you can do is draw on your creativity, manage the damage, and learn for the next time.

    Injection Moulding Machine

    Like it or not, the ultimate quality of your product will be decided by factors potentially out of your control, often in another part of the world.  Get good at speaking in the language of Engineers, suppliers and the people paid to execute your product.  Even better, relish the opportunities to dive into technical problems.

    7. Things change.

    When I started university, Minidisc was the ‘in’ music format.  When I graduated, we spent the last few weeks together frantically filling Zip drives (ask your Dad about them) with MP3s and staring at the rows of CDs we had all splurged our student loans on.  The point is, things change quickly, and the world will be a different place when you graduate.  Luckily for you, you are a designer and you will adapt, all while scaring yourself silly.

    This also means that the things your lecturers are teaching you in first year become irrelevant by the time you leave.  So, focus on learning how to learn, and don’t get too wrapped-up in software and the latest widgets – you can learn that from a book or on the job.

    disks

    Zip disks once held unimaginable amounts of data, and using one at art school seemed awfully professional.  Less so now. Photo from Flickr, by Runs with Scissors.

    8. Your friends will earn more than you.

    But you’re not in this for the money, right?  Whatever, it will still irk you that while you are beavering away at trying to score a non-paying internship, your friends will be recruited by management consultancies, lured by the bright lights and Audi A4s of accounting, and generally earning a hell of a lot more than you.  While this is not likely to change, what I hope you discover after a few years (see #4), is that you are developing a true career for something you love (see #5).  And that is worth more than money.

    9. The bum job is never the bum job.

    It’s all too tempting to huff and puff at the jobs you deem dull and boring.  You want to design the TVs, when all I get to design is the stupid power supply.  Poor you!

    But here’s the thing; do the so-called bum jobs and you will gain respect amongst your peers, carve new relationships for the role of design, and discover that it’s often these parts that turn up in multiple other areas of the company.  Suddenly, the power supply that you originally made for a TV also pops up in other products, and you have planted the seed.  So, get in the habit of jumping in with both feet, and people are very likely to take notice.

    I have control!

    A friend of mine working at a big European electronics company once took on the challenge of redesigning all their remote controls.  What started out in music equipment and televisions, eventually ended up with him building relationships in Medical Devices, and throughout the organisation. Enthusiasm is infectious.  Photo by Crouching Badger.

    10. There is no one career path.

    Looking at the designers that comprise the Dell design team, you see a surprising span of disciplines and cultures.  While there are those where the design job followed a path set by the design school, there are just as many with backgrounds in architecture, engineering and medical products; there is no one route.  What we share, regardless of background, is a set of attitudes, aptitudes and experiences that enable us to deliver world-class products and experiences.  As a designer emerging from school, it’s your job to build these blocks and learn how to combine them.

    Good luck!

    Jonathan Biddle is Lead Industrial Designer at Dell, based in Taipei, Taiwan.

  • HiRecruit 2010

    HiRecruit 2010

    The Taiwanese government’s HiRecruit campaign aims to attract professional talent to the island.  This year, they asked me to talk about what brought me here, and why other people should do the same thing.  Check out the video below:

    Obviously what I really cared about was that I looked good on the bike … 🙂

  • Autumnal Austin

    It’s my third trip to Austin, and my second this year. I must admit, I have grown fond of the place, in no small part as a result of my skill in choosing the most pleasant periods of weather of the year to come; blue skies mix with cool breezes to make for perfect conditions to enjoy life outside, eating, drinking, listening to live music, and riding bikes.  Bliss.

    Coming via Houston, which seems to be built around its oil refineries and parking lots, Austin is delightful. And doubly so now I know my way around; I have my favourite bike shops, cafes, hell, I can even discriminate between different organic supermarkets and live music venues.

    But would I live here? Even in this liberal paradise? Not quite. As much affection as I have for this place, I still feel more affinity to Asia and Europe. But as an exercise in allowing myself to regroup, see some music, talk to people in my own language, and yet have a different experience from returning to the UK, it’s just magic. I am pretty lucky.

    Austin on an Autumn evening.