As I was collecting typography around the city that have been affected by the natural elements, I discovered a few things:
There are genuinely rugged type that have been washed out by the rain or bleached by the sun. You're usually able to tell by the cracks or the faded parts;
There are also impostors! Vinyl decals that have been purposefully manufactured to produce a similar effect decorate a lot of storefronts and windows, but the artificiality is ultimately unable to replicate the naturalness with which the weather does its wonders;
The surfaces are to be considered. Typography drawn over rougher or crude surfaces tend to lean towards a more "weathered" look. It can be hard to differentiate sometimes whether it's the type or the surface on which it rests that has been worn down;
The relationship between the typography, its utilitarian purposes, and the elements is very interesting. Signage that are meant to draw attention are rendered useless after being bleached by the sun. Faded typography used as branding will also have to be replaced eventually.
Observations aside, what I found to be most thought-provoking were the examples of typography that told stories. I wonder if the door number bore witness to several generations of tenants, or if the Jesus Loves You sign was done by someone still attending the same church. There is something extraordinarily handsome and dignified in the way typography around the city have withstood time and wear, and how they stand as silent witnesses to the ongoings around them.
Type Well-Worn was a pleasure to work on, and I look forward to seeing even more wizened faces in New York City.