The floppy disk
1971 — still hereA physical object most people have never held, still meaning “preserve this.” The only dead convention that refused to die.
A corridor hung with interface conventions that died. Every one of them was obvious at the time. This is the plain list — the corridor is the point, but you should never have to walk somewhere to read something.
A physical object most people have never held, still meaning “preserve this.” The only dead convention that refused to die.
Waiting, drawn as sand. Replaced by the spinner, which tells you nothing at all about how long.
A man with a shovel, animated, apologising for a page that was never going to be finished.
Public analytics, before anyone thought to hide them. Usually started at 10,000.
A comments section for the whole site, with no post to attach it to. Social networking, arrived at sideways.
A badge asking you to change browsers rather than the site change its markup.
An entire screen whose only content was the word ENTER. A door in front of a door.
Software pretending to be furniture, so that people who had never used software would recognise it. It worked, then it stopped being needed.
Every tap on a phone waited a third of a second, in case you were about to tap again. Nobody was told.
Three lines that meant “a list is stored here” at Xerox, were forgotten for thirty years, and came back meaning everything.