It's probably weird to have a favorite typeface. I don't mean that in an "I really like this font" way. I mean it in an "after years of careful consideration this is the font I'd take to a desert island" way. My desert island typeface has long been Sabon: classic but not stale, detailed without being overwrought.
One of my secret dreams is to walk into a book shop and spot a novel I'd written sitting on the shelf. The secret part isn't the book shop bit nor the novel writing bit—it's the fact that I've always imagined the book would be typeset in Sabon.
That's probably weird, too. Except probably without the "probably." I am a sad, sad nerd.
So, as you can imagine, the needle on the weirdness meter jumped into the red zone when I stumbled across someone who not only professed the love that dare not typeset its name but who shares the exact same choice for desert island typeface. This next comes from a blog post by John Gruber:
I'd rather not see my work published at all than see it published in a poorly-designed setting. […] I'm fond of several other Garamond-derived and/or -inspired faces— Garamond No. 3 and Adobe Garamand, for example— but Sabon is the font family I'd choose to take with me to a desert island.
A hundred billion bottles may be washed up on the shore, but how those messages were typeset is the big question Sting left unsung. And why did he leave it unsung? Because he wanted women to sleep with him and nobody sees the Underroos of a typeset nerd.
I hope, therefore, I'm smart enough not to post this blog entry.
