Packaging Concept:
Inspired by college acceptance letter packages.
Selected color palette:
Look 1: 3:20pm
3:20 pm is the time. Tuesday’s school day has finally come to an end as I step out of the yearbook computer lab. The hubbub of the afterschool rush is already passed – I’ve seen flashes of a rich cardinal red, golden yellow (that very much reminds me of the honey color I saw in Winnie the Pooh as a child), and denim in every possible shade of blue possible as students scurry off to commence their afternoon routines of sports practice, band rehearsals, cram school sessions, or bubble tea hour with friends. The sky is a vibrant tint of blue, ebbing between a rich cool blue to a light blue touched by the slightest hint of yellow, that compliments the average Californian 88 degrees Fahrenheit rather beautifully. Both physically and mentally, I’m feeling fatigued and rather ready for a nap. The vibrant hues I initially noticed have now dulled as I stand outside the school gates waiting for my uncle to come by and pick me up. The red brick wall and the surrounding plants ranging from a welcoming green to a sickly yellow wait by my side as I begin to fiddle with the straps on my faded red Jansport backpack.
Look 2: 3:40 pm
3:40 pm is the time. My uncle has finally arrived and I scramble to drop off my backpack in the back and scurry to the driver’s seat. As I buckle up, my uncle mentions a big envelope came from the art school I applied to last month. ”What was the name of that art school again?” he says. It can’t be. Normally, I’ll follow the speed limit but now my stomach is twisting in knots and I speed home just a little faster than I’m supposed to. Once I’ve opened the front door, I drop my backpack to the floor and rush to the dining table covered in my mom’s new white tablecloth with pastel floral motifs to search through the mail. I see it. It’s a big white envelope. It can’t be. It’s a big white envelope, not really a pure white, with a red-orange text across the side that reads “PARSONS.” It can’t be. I grab it, walk into my room, and melt into my big black cushioned desk chair. I stare. It can’t be. I move in what seems like slow motion to open the envelope. Inside is a warm black envelope with the same red orange across the top and a grey scale of “PARSONS” and percentages across the bottom. It can’t be…but it is. Inside, on a white 8.5 by 11 in piece of computer paper are the words “Congratulations! On behalf of the Admission Committee, you are offered a place in the Fall 2013 class at Parsons The New School for Design.”
Look 3: 5:40pm
5:40 pm is the time. The normal reaction is to jump up in joy – to be so excited that perhaps all you see is yellow and jubilation. Another possible reaction is to perhaps break out in tears; a light blue tint would then be appropriate for the scenario. However, I sit at my desk – numb – for two hours. This can’t be. I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll just be a dream. All that clouds my head at this very moment is a dull, but not necessarily dark, red.
