There is one particular shop on Burns Road in Karachi that sells amazing lassi. The milk shop has expanded its menu and now also serves strawberry milkshakes and mango milkshakes, among others. How do I know this? There are some really large, ugly posters advertising this new menu, stuck all over the establishment.
But now I know that the shop sells all these milkshakes, and those posters have stuck with me. So I ask you: who cares if the design is ugly or not? After all, it has done its job. In fact, I would argue that it has done its job exceptionally well.
Living in Pakistan means confronting really bad design everywhere. I don’t only mean bad design in terms of how things function, because let’s be honest, that part is often absolutely diabolical. Bad graphic design is on every street and every corner, yet it all seems to serve its purpose well.
Either it is screaming some political or religious affiliation, or it is advertising some shoddy motapa ilaaj (obesity cure). Mostly, when you glance at these “ugly” posters, you immediately grasp their message. And indeed, that is the point.
Very rarely do I see well-executed, balanced, and thoughtful graphic design on the roads of Karachi, and when I do, it genuinely helps calm my nervous system. Recently, it has been the Pipers Biscuit packaging on the billboard I see every time I cross Teen Talwar Roundabout.
Pakistan did not always have bad graphic design. The design legacy of this region comes from some of the most exceptionally composed miniature folios, calligraphy pages, architectural elements, and textile traditions. Good design is timeless.
The packaging design for Tibet Powder still adorns the vanities of grandmothers, their daughters, and their granddaughters. Old posters of Pakistan International Airlines (PIA), advertising their landing destinations, are still printed and displayed as art on the walls of fancy cafés. Bad design can tell you that PIA flies to Paris, but it can also turn into viral mockery, unfortunately reminding people of 9/11 instead.
In this age, where speed is appreciated above all else, we have lost the art of slow design, and that, I believe, is the problem in Pakistan. The issue is not that there are no good designers; the issue is that the people who commission or employ these designs are not willing to give designers the space and autonomy to create good work.
I have seen many exceptional calligraphers produce beautiful compositions that are then passed on to digital graphics teams, who turn them into atrocious visuals advertising local political parties and their agendas. Zohran Mamdani’s political campaign in New York goes to show that political campaigns, too, do not have to be ugly. Good design can tell you about a person, a product or a brand’s heritage, mission and vision.
Good design goes beyond form. It takes you into the heart of the designer who crafted it with care and expertise, and then further into the heart of the beholder, where it stays. Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder, but it is inherited from the hands of the maker.
