For years—some say decades—Philipp and Bernd could be found in the soft glow of their atelier, nestled somewhere between the Platonic ideal of a wine cellar and a Bauhaus archive. Armed with nothing but Bézier curves and an uncompromising sense of form, they dedicated themselves to a single pursuit: Carlson. Not just a typeface, but a manifesto of elegance. Each glyph was revised, redrawn, and rediscussed over countless bottles of impeccably chilled Chardonnay—never Sauvignon Blanc, god forbid. Whispers tell of kerning sessions so intense they required intermissions of vintage Montrachet and Gregorian chant. While the world spiraled into sans-serif mediocrity, Philipp and Bernd held the line—sharp, and ever so slightly smug. Carlson was not designed, darling. It was composed. With restraint, reverence, and a hint of oak.
…Philipp und Bernd müssen noch nen Text schreiben…