T is for texture. In today’s world, where this so slickly slips away and that is quickly deemed passé, I yearn for texture. Texture gives pause. It urges you to stop and take notice. To notice nuance. Texture… it is onomatopoeic in a verbally tactile way. You feel it in your mouth as the letters rub and purr. Feel TEXTURE as your tongue takes to the roof to form the sharp opening T, then slopes downward – mingling with teeth and whooshing air as the “ex” and the next T merge in climax before smoothing out… to a velvety coda. Texture is visually stimulating. The word itself is stately and strong, anchored at its bow by the two Ts of TEXT – thus issuing forth images of typography and print, poetry and prose; thus bringing to mind the core, the heft, the soul of things. Texture urges you to action… to reach out and take hold. Texture urges you to recognize the possibilities of juxtaposition. Texture urges you to experience the pleasures inherent in difference. Texture urges you touch… and be thrilled down to your core.
— Ivy Baer Sherman, founder and editor-in-chief of Vintage Magazine
