A Signature Achievement
A SIGNATURE ACHIEVEMENT – September 4, 2024 – Covina, California, USA
Lilly never felt more mature. She picked out a clean-looking used car from the lot without any help. She sat through the finance discussion by herself and agreed to a deal.
“You’re getting a bargain,” the lot’s finance director assured her. He was an older guy and wore an orange tie over his striped-green shirt. He spoke fast and in a way that made Lilly think she was listening to her uncle. He pointed to the signature line on the final page of a paper stack. “Okay, sign here and it’s yours.”
Lilly brushed the hair back from her face and took a deep breath before saying, “I guess I’m really doing this.” She held a pen to make the squiggle she used to sign things.
“That’s it?” the finance director asked. “That’s your signature?”
“Yeah.”
The finance director chuckled. “Looks kind of like an X. I forgot that young people are more used to typing than writing and it translates to their signatures. You know in the old days, when people couldn’t read or write, they would just make an X too. Called it making their mark.”
“I know how to read and write,” Lilly replied defensively.
“I’m sure you can. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as an insult. When I try to be funny, it gets me in trouble sometimes.”
Lilly huffed, took her copy of the paperwork, and drove away. The proud sensation of owning her first car was soured by the way the finance director laughed at her signature. Lilly told herself that his opinion did not matter. He was old and old-fashioned. No one cared about signatures anymore.
Despite was she told herself, Lilly spent more than an hour that night looking up famous autographs. She recognized some of them, like the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Other celebrity signatures surprised her. She brought it up the next day with her friend, Mattie.
“Have you ever gotten anyone’s autograph?”
“Someone famous?”
“Yeah, someone famous. Why would you want anyone’s autograph unless they were famous?”
“I’ve never gotten close enough to anyone famous.”
“Who do you think has the best signature?” Lilly asked.
“I have no idea.”
“It’s probably important to have a good one when you’re famous. And I fully intend to be famous.”
“For what?”
“Could be a lot of things. I might be in a movie or invent something. Maybe I’ll write something famous. I don’t want to be embarrassed when a fan asks for my autograph.”
“I guess. But maybe you should concentrate on getting famous first.”
Lilly dismissed Mattie’s comment for showing a lack of vision. She described some of her now favorite celebrity signatures that were worth money, including those from Babe Ruth, Walt Disney, and Victoria Beckham.
“Oh, I love Victoria’s. I’ll show you.” Lilly pulled an image up on her phone and gradually convinced Mattie she should be as interested in autographs.
Immediately after their conversation, ads appeared in Lilly’s social media feeds for handwriting courses. She said to herself, “My phone’s been spying on me again so it can sell me something.” She curiously clicked on an ad for Signature Academy.
“Show off your personality with artistic flair!” proclaimed Signature Academy’s website. They promised a beautiful and distinctive signature you could be proud of. If you lived in Arlington, Virginia, you could attend Signature Academy in person. Otherwise, the online version was only $49.
The graphics and taglines tempted Lilly. She read customer testimonials and admired sample signatures. She decided to bypass Hattie’s advice about first becoming famous and then working on her autograph. She would tackle the autograph first. A beautiful signature would help her think like a beautiful and famous person. Her celebrity timeline would accelerate.
Lilly paid the $49 and gained access to all the analysis tools, video tutorials, and practice exercises she needed. She began by using her electronic tablet and stylus to get an opinion on her current signature. She scribbled her usual mark into the entry form. A progress bar showed the computer was thinking. Then a message popped up. “Your signature is similar to the following celebrity: Genghis Khan.”
“Genghis Khan?” Lilly cried. “Did he ever use a pen?”
She quickly opened the introductory video tutorial. A man appeared on the screen wearing a long-sleeved buttoned shirt but no tie. He had an ageless face and the hint of a British accent in his soothing voice. He introduced himself as Adrian and was a model for cool refinement.
“Handwriting is a lost art and with it goes the loss of interesting signatures. A great signature reflects your personal style. It can be as important as how you dress. It is worth an investment in time and practice.”
Adrian claimed that cursive writing was the basis for most great signatures. “Even if you have practiced cursive in the past, it’s worth refreshing.”
Lilly did a little cursive writing in elementary school, but her classes quickly moved to keyboard typing instead. She watched as Adrian demonstrated how to trace out cursive letters. She could practice by using her tablet and stylus or by printing out paper worksheets. She tried both.
Lilly found cursive practice very relaxing. She traced letters while listening to customer complaints in her company’s call center. None of the callers noticed that at least half of her attention was devoted to getting her capital T’s and Q’s just right. She advanced from copying Signature Academy sentences to stringing letters together to form her full name: Lilly Grace Stott. She liked the looping l’s in her first name and the sophistication of the capital G in her middle name. Her last name provided interesting opportunities for how she crossed the t’s.
At first, Lilly wrote her name so that it matched the cursive ideals. In one of his video tutorials, Adrian advised that students who had mastered the basics could move to adding personality and flair. He showed examples of how shifting the slant of the letters made them more dramatic. Adjusting the curves in the loops made them distinctive. Adding long lines and tails showed strength and energy.
Lilly experimented with hundreds of variations before settling on a signature version she loved. It included long and loopy capital letters and a single line crossing all three t’s in her last name. She used up a stack of scratch paper practicing until she could exactly reproduce the signature. She looked back at earlier versions and laughed at how childish they appeared by comparison.
When Lilly returned to the computer for an analysis, this time her signature was comparable to Marilyn Monroe’s. The computer also said she had an ambitious personality. She combined sensitivity with a wild streak. Lilly loved the assessment and was ready to show the world what she had previously hidden.
Lilly added the new signature to her email sign-off message so all recipients could admire the artistry. She eagerly signed for credit card purchases and grew annoyed when electronic touchpads were broken or insensitive to her stylus strokes. No cashier appeared to notice or appreciate her new look. To grab more attention, she left messages for her coworkers on Post-it notes and index cards and included her signature. One of her supervisors finally spoke up.
“What a beautiful signature! I didn’t realize you had that kind of handwriting.”
Lilly tried to act like it came naturally. “Just part of my personality, I guess. I can sign something else if you need me to.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” her supervisor replied.
That small validation made Lilly hungry for more. But where could she show off? She daydreamed of stepping out of a movie premier and signing autographs on posters and T-shirts for adoring fans. She pictured herself at a book signing adding her signatory art to the title page of a novel she wrote. How long would she need to wait until she was famous in that way? Whatever the timeline, it was too long.
Lilly was still thinking of her signature as a little piece of art when she had her next big idea. She worked in an office building next door to a public art museum. The museum’s outdoor bulletin boards advertised an upcoming art contest. They encouraged entries for multiple categories, including watercolors, landscapes, abstracts, and self-portraits. All skill levels were welcome and winners would be displayed inside the museum and receive a cash prize.
A flash of inspiration hit Lilly. Her signature was an artistic representation of her personality. It showed a different part of her than you might see in a picture, but it was still an important part. Multiple signatures would be multiple personality portraits and the museum would be an excellent display venue.
The next day, Lilly drove to an art supply store and found a large sheet of the whitest, glossiest paper available. Then she picked out pens in every color and tip size. She returned home and covered the paper in different-sized versions of her signature. She used all the pens and rotated the paper to show her signature at every possible angle. By the time she finished, the signature portrait was dense with ink. Lilly put the paper in a frame covered by glass and admired it from up close and far away. She presented it to the museum and told them it was an entry for the self-portrait category.
An email message arrived from the museum a week later. In what Lilly would learn was a very controversial decision, she was awarded 3rd place and $100. Her signature portrait went on display next to the other winners, which included a chalk drawing and an oil painting of their artists’ faces. Lilly spent her lunch hour and after-work time loitering in the museum to catch visitor reactions.
The most common response when people saw her signatures was, “I don’t get it.” Almost as common was the question, “Is this art?”
Lilly’s project easily drew the most attention from amateur art critics. Many wanted to know if the artist was someone famous. They asked their companions, “Should I know Lilly Grace Stott?”
Lilly’s favorite reaction came from a woman pushing a baby stroller and chatting with her husband. “She must be famous,” the woman said after examining Lilly’s signature. “No one has a beautiful autograph like that unless they’re famous.”
Standing within earshot behind them, Lilly hid the satisfied smile on her face. She was right to start with her signature. So far, it was the thing for which she was most famous. Now all she needed was a second accomplishment worthy of her autograph.
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