Here’s how well I know the story of the ⌘ symbol that has come to mean so much to Apple users – because we use it so very much – and to mean absolutely nothing to us – because we barely think about it. I used to have a white sweatshirt that had a ⌘ icon on it. Loved that.

Loved it so much I wonder where in the world it has gone. I do know where in the world I got it but unfortunately you can’t still get them. (But keep an eye on the website of Susan Kare, famous icon designer who didn’t design this one. She did pick it, though, and that’s the story of the ⌘:

Known sometimes as the St John’s Arms, it’s a knot-like heraldic symbol dating back in Scandinavia at least 1,500 years, where it was used to ward off evil spirits and bad luck. A picture stone discovered in a burial site in Havor, Gotland, prominently features the emblem and dates from 400-600 AD. It has also been found carved on everything from houses and cutlery to a pair of 1,000-year-old Finnish skis, promising protection and safe travel.

It’s still found today on maps and signs in northern and eastern Europe, representing places of historical interest. More famously, though, it lurks on the keyboard of almost every Apple computer ever made—and in Unicode slot 2318 for everyone else, under the designation “place of interest sign.”

What is Apple’s command key all about? – Tom Chatfield, Medium.com (13 April, year uncertain)

Read on at the full article – and if you find my sweatshirt, please let me know. Last seen in Paris, if that helps.

Where weather icons come from

As a design student at the Norwich School of Art in the early 1970s, Mark Allen watched the weather broadcast every afternoon on the BBC. Back then, TV presenters slid magnetic symbols around a metal map: dots for rain, asterisks for snow, lines to mark off areas of equal pressure. “They were just hieroglyphics as far as everybody was concerned,” Allen says. “Why was a triangle a rain shower?”

For his final project in 1974, Allen set out to make weather icons more intuitive. He looked to a set of pictograms by Otl Aicher, who devised spare, thick-lined figures for the 1972 Olympic Games. Allen used a similar style to trace a puffy cloud, adding simple icons to the bottom edge: rain droplets, lightning bolts, rays of sun. “The main vehicle was the cloud, and I hung everything off that,” he says. The BBC adopted Allen’s iconography in 1975, in exchange for 200 pounds and a small percentage of license fees. His drawings stayed on the air for 30 years.

Who Made That Weather Icon? – New York Times (23 May 2014)

Nice story about something I have never consciously noticed: how we went from faux Meteorological Office chart symbols to more recognisable ones. Read the full story.