YEW won’t believe this font I made
The origin story of a fifteen-year obsession with yew trees, druids, and lettering.
Ever since I was a little boy, I have loved typography.
I know the first thing you’re thinking is, “Little boys don’t know what typography is. No child does, Dustin. And it’s a little insulting that you would expect us to believe that. I mean, suspending disbelief is one thing, but little boys loving typography? Get a hold of yourself.” And to that I would say, “Hey… chill. That’s a lot of energy for safe.”
But no, you’re right. I didn’t know what typography was as a kid, but I did love it. It was like how I loved Tim Burton films but didn’t know they were all his films until much later. I remember checking out books from the library—not to read them—but to look at them. To study how they were made and what made a book… a book. Words, yes, but the way the words looked. The way the ink sat on the page, and how different books made me feel different things. I didn’t have the language to describe or understand this at the time, but I noticed it.
This was where my love for typography began.
A brief herstory.
The first time I heard the word typography was while working on the yearbook staff in high school. I had never heard of graphic design or InDesign or kerning. It was 2006 and up to that point I had been mostly concerned with Legos, writing sad poems, and watching any movie about witches (and anything Tim Burton, but at this point you should just assume everything is related to him in some way because yes, it was that deep for me.)
Long story short, I caught the font bug, and soon after magazines hated to see me coming. A sharp pair of scissors in one hand. A glue stick in the other. I had a notebook I would paste my magazine clippings in—of fonts I loved, type treatments that inspired me, layouts that filled me with wonder and delight.
“Magazines hated to see me coming. A sharp pair of scissors in one hand. A glue stick in the other.”
I carried this passion with me into college, and when I got to take a class entirely devoted to typemaking—I transcended. This was where Yew was born.
Making Yew.
A final project turned an awakening—Yew began as an exploration of my last name which means “born of the yew.” Earlier that year, I had done a deep dive into my surname, discovering that both my surname and my birthday shared deep roots with the Yew tree. This began a decades-long project of discovering the history of my surname and, in tandem, the origins of druids and the Ogham alphabet… but I digress.
“The result was a typeface that felt lively, a little strange, and full of personality—like something grown rather than constructed.”
I started with a basic serif, adjusting the nodes to give it some character. I was really inspired by the idea of wood carving. Blocky, bold, irregular. I wanted the characters to mimic the structure of the tree, a mix of sturdy trunks and narrow branches, subtle quirks in its forms. The result was a typeface that felt lively, a little strange, and full of personality—like something grown rather than constructed. I envisioned this font used for headlines, book cover titles, and standout quotes.
Yew trees live for hundreds of years, and the oldest ones we have can mostly be found on church grounds—planted by druids, but spared by the sacred nature of churchyards. They are associated with the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, and are seen as doors between worlds. My idea for my specimen book was to have it feel like multiple doors opening. I pillaged through my trunk of old notebooks to find these early sketches.
I hadn’t looked at or even thought of this font for years until I began The Great Portfolio and Website Update of 2026. I updated the graphics to feel more like my style now, and I was so happy with how it stood the test of time. Fifteen years! I haven’t made a font since, but I think that will change very, very soon.
So until then, thank you for going down this rabbit hole for me. Stay tuned for more lore and dad jokes. Thank you and good day!
xoxo
Gossip Gay
