The Future of Design | CGT Trader

I was recently approached by a company outside of SA wanting to know if I would be interested in submitting a post on the future of design.

If I chose to submit and become involved, all I had to do was type up a few words on what I think the future of design would be like. Now, as many of you know, I most probably don’t have a creative bone in my body and I am outlandish when I do think of something creative. It always needs to be out there and crazy.

Well, after a few follow up emails from one of their employees, I decided that this must be legit and here I am, typing instead of finishing my last hour of actually-get-paid-work.

My thoughts on the future of design? (please don’t be surprised that this will take a mommy turn)
*I don’t even know if this will be consistent or correct*
We will have a lot more youngsters and sane deprived parents coming up with a way to improve their lives and homes

Mommies will come up with ideas on how to recycle and reuse items of clothing and bottles so that we no longer damage the Earth
Daddies will come up with ways to feed the children without wasting any time cutting and chopping up those I-don’t -eat vegetables
Non parents will come up with ways to better improve your homing system, so that Lego no longer hurts when you step on it in the middle of the night and that you’re able to ninja your way out of your child’s room and not get “caught”
Hell, they might even design something where your child needs to input a password before coming into the parents’ room when they are having “special” time

Now, this post is not about design but it sure was fun thinking about the future and the technological designs and advances that will most probably happen in the next 2 years or so.

At 31, I’ll feel as ancient as BC

Forgettable Face

I have one of those faces. That if you saw me in the street, you’d know that you know me but you’d never quite figure out my name or how you know me. Cue the quickly averted gaze and pondering mind. I am sorry to say but I am forgettable. I am one of those chicks you attended highschool with, we might’ve hung out once or twice. I attended dance class with you for a year or so. We even sat right next to each other and shared a laugh. Like an autumn leave, just begging to be noticed, just a gust of wind blows me past you. Still enough for a moment of recognition but never enough for “Oh, she played a significant role in my life”

I don’t want to be the one who told you to not have that abortion, I don’t want to be your-behind-the-screen friend and I sure as hell don’t want to be that kin from now the other day.

I would like you to remember my name. I would like you to have a decent recount of how you know me. Not just that kin who had one too many berks on school. 

I’ve always felt that I was never one of those. Those, that 10 years down the line, could confidently say I had 100% genuine experiences. I fucked it up. Most of it. I was too much all of the time. Too much of everything and I think people just ended up feeling sorry for me. I never made the best of anything, I took advantage. I don’t have any friends. I don’t know how to make friends. I am 28, a single mom and for the most part, I fucked up. 

When you see me, all 1.49m and 80 + kg’s of me, I hope you stop and reminisce of only the worthy traits. How I made you laugh on highschool or how I was always that one friend who would defend you even if it meant I landed up worse off. I hope that you remember me. 

People always ask me what my worst fear is and it’s not death. It’s that in dying, at my funeral, at my last rememberance, the pews will be empty, filled only by the obligatory family, not attending for respect but for food. 

The kid just swore

Just stop for a second and stop the judgement. I’ll give you your 15 seconds of judge sometime soon.

—————

Imagine the scene, I step out of the shower and the kid is sitting directly opposite me putting on her socks. 

Kid: Mommy, why do you say fuckin when you get mad at me?

*cue shocked facial expression and laughter*

Me: What? Why do I say what?

Kid: Mommy, why do you say fuckin when you get mad at me?

*cue more laughter because apparently I am a terrible mother & don’t know how to handle situations in an adult way*

Me: Oh. Uhmm, I only say it when I’m really upset but I mustn’t hey

Kid: Yes, you mustn’t say fuckin

Me: Jesus doesn’t like it when you say that word. It’s a bad word. It’s a swear word.

Kid: *acting very shocked that I have now accused her of swearing* I never said it, you did

Me: I know, it’s very bad. I won’t say it again. You mustn’t it again, ok? *soon after I mouthed WTF*

Kid: Yes, I won’t say it again

—————-

Ok, here you go……….your 15 seconds of judge

1. For me allowing my 5 year old daughter to see me naked

2. For cussing infront of her

……………………….

I cuss infront of her when I am completely 100% bedonnered. It’s just me and her. The 2 of us. So when I’ve just had enough of everything, swearing is my way of releasing that tension because it’s either that or punching a wall. I’ve tried screaming into a pillow – it does not work.

Also, I cussed infront of her like months ago – she needs to chill

As for the naked part – as parents, we hardly get time to do anything, let alone on our own so yip, that’s my reasoning.

Driving the point home? I typed this post, on my phone while I was on the loo and even then she interuppted me to tell me

” I love you”

“Sorry I’m just collecting my cards” 

AND

“Kid: Mama, I don’t have enough fresh air

Me: Huh? What?

Kid: It’s being cancelled”