Designers come in all shapes and sizes and apply their talents to an enormous range of things, from books to refrigerators to clothes to stage scenery. Can such a motley crew be grouped together under one head; and do their diverse passions have common roots? Becoming a Designer traces the early development of talent in a range of designers to explore the possibility that a unique combination of personality characteristics along with a visualising sensitivity makes design success predictable from an early age.

Lund Humphries, today, is known for publishing books on contemporary art and artists; few know that its roots are in a jobbing printers in Bradford. But Bradford, at the turn of the century, was no provincial backwater, but a city at the centre of the world's wool industry and Percy Lund Humphries was not merely a jobbing printer serving the local industry, but a progressive firm with ambitions well beyond the boundaries of Yorkshire. In its time it was to publish The Penrose Annual, an essential read for those interested in printing and the graphic arts and Typographica, the most avant garde journal on typography; it mounted extraordinary exhibitions in its grand London office in Bedford Square it carried type for languages across the world, crucial for the governments need for language textbooks for those serving overseas in WWII; and much more. A Pioneering Printer, Lund Humphries of Bradford tells its remarkable story.

From the latter part of the 19th century there was a fever of experiment resulting in the development of what were to become brand-named beauty products. Some manufacturers were generally interested in producing 'healthy' products that could beautify without harming; others were chancers climbing on the band wagon. Most beauty product manufacturers started with one or two specialised products - for the hair or nails or skin - but eventually all involved in the beauty industry seemed to be selling everything - from lipsticks to false eye lashes; minnows in the industry were swallowed up by whales. Advertising for beauty products moved with social trends - from flapper girl to Carnaby Street Twiggy lookalikes. Gullible consumers were offered solutions to achieving their dreams - to look forever young, to attract attention, to land Mr. or Mrs. Right. Sellers of Dreams charts the advertiser's skills in promising dreams would come true.

A survey by Nicklaus Pevsner in the 1930s estimated that some 80-90% of manufactured goods in England were shoddy and poorly designed. When it came to furniture only a handful of manufacturers would have escaped such condemnation. Prime among these was Heals of Tottenham Court Road - manufacturer, retailer, and, with its top floor Mansard Gallery, the Mecca for Home Counties cognoscenti of 'modernism'. Most furniture manufacturers advertised their wares in the press but Heal's was a rare exception in the industry in its use of posters. Heal's posters not only relay the saga of a pioneering enterprise but provide a shorthand history of what was happening in the design and retailing of furniture and furnishings in Britain in the 20th century.

Crusaders for art and design were men and women who were prepared to give their energy, talents, and oftimes money, to encourage young artists and designers to adventure in their chosen fields and generally to raise the status of the 'fine' and 'applied' arts and their creators. Many of these crusaders have largely been forgotten, such as John Gloag, who was here, there, and everywhere in support of the cause. Other Crusaders are remembered but for other reasons, such as Pevsner, the surveyor of British architectural heritage who for some years had been seen as the guru of industrial design. Gordon Russell, celebrated as the Cotswold furniture designer is altogether less known as a Director of the Council of Industrial Design. Whilst in the 'fine' arts Anton Zwemmer, whose Covent Garden shop is now a hairdressers, has largely been erased from memory as when he had been the king bee of a beehive frequented by artists and designers alike coming to find out the latest cultural news from the Continent to be gleaned from his magazines and books. Crusaders of Art and Design aims to restore a number of reputations by recording their contributions to the cause.

F.H.K Henrion was one of a distinguished group of graphic designers - refugees from Europe just prior to World War-II, who brought cutting-edge continental design to the rather parochial English scene. He quickly made his mark as a poster designer for the Ministry of Information, and, parallel to this, began to build up a career in exhibition design, culminating in two highly original pavilions for the Festival of Britain. However, Henrion is best remembered for his evangelical work in corporate identity design whereby he raised the status of the graphic designer to boardroom significance. He established the authority of the profession as total re-branders of organizations, from logo, through retail outlets and vehicles, to stationery and labels. "The Design Series" is the winner of the Brand/Series Identity Category at the British Book Design and Production Awards 2009, judges said: 'A series of books about design, they had to be good and these are. The branding is consistent, there is a good use of typography and the covers are superb'.

Packaging is something of a hot topic at the moment, but in our eagerness to get rid of as much of it as possible we need to be careful not to throw the baby out with the bath water. Wrapping It Up gives an account of the usefulness of packaging to all involved - manufacturer, wholesaler, retailer and consumer - beyond its commercial value as a marketing and advertising tool. Homage is paid to the many graphic artists and designers - whether employed by manufacturer or retailer, by a design studio or an advertising agency - whose ingenuity was so successfully applied to the problem of how to protect goods in transit and in storage as well as having them attract attention. A visit to a super-market or a daily check in kitchen cupboards will never be quite the same.

The focus of the plethora of books on British textiles has largely been on their design and designers; relatively little has been written on the marketing of the products. Trading Textiles whilst making reference to the many avenues and methods for selling fibres and fabrics focussed on press advertising whereby manufacturers not only showed off a product, a brand, but intentionally or unintentionally provided potential buyers with an image of the company itself. Although, eventually, as with so many industries in the 20th century, companies that originally built their reputation on one line - a particular fibre or textile or stage of production - conglomerates came to offer comprehensive ranges. Trading Textiles compares the different styles of advertising of firms driven by design, those science based, those focussed on furnishings, and others relating to fashion. Covering mid-20th century textile advertising the book not only illustrates what was happening in graphic design generally but the changing character of the textile industry itself.

Showing Off catalogues a fifty year history of some of London's most splendid and iconic stores; illustrating the formula for successful survival in a competitive and rapidly changing marketplace. These stores have used the architecture and design of the buildings as their trademark, created magical and 'magnetic' window displays, devised clever publicity 'stunts' and popular 'events', and produced wonderfully illustrated catalogues and posters that have become unique works of art. The collection focuses particularly on the use of window display, a neglected area of design history, featuring some of the major in-store designers such as Eric Lucking at Liberty's, Edward Goldsman at Selfridges, Edward Grieve at Harrods, and Natasha Kroll at Simpson's. It additionally acknowledges the contribution of some of the major manufacturers of displays who supplied the stores, such as Leon Goodman and the creative display consultants, who influenced through their originality of design, such as Martha Harris' stylish and colourful posters.

Although how we furnished our homes in the latter part of the 20th century was largely influenced by two men - Terence Conran of Habitat and Ingvar Kamprad of IKEA - a number of women attempted, in their various ways, to influence our taste when it came to how we lived. Early on were the Victorian/Edwardian women, often associated with the Suffragette movement who both designed and sold furniture. These were followed, after WWI, by others also breaking social rank - the society hostesses - totally untrained but full of confidence, and having their own 'interiors' admired, saw a way of supplementing their incomes by imposing their tastes on others. Meanwhile a few women were proselytising their concerns for well-crafted and designed products, through retail outlets from small financially precarious shops, to running part of the prestigious store, Heals. Wartime threw up an altogether more professional group - the 'doers' - those empowered to 'do it themselves' . Additionally there were a handful of professional furniture designers and another small groups looking to the design needs of the masses rather than the comfortably off. From Palaces to Pre-fabs sets out to restore the reputation of such women working in what was the largely male-dominated world of interior design.

Austin Cooper was by chance of birth a Canadian but built his career as a commercial artist in London. Art-educated in Wales and Scotland, he became, in the inter-war years, one of the most highly-respected poster artist in the United Kingdom - one of L.N.E.R's 'elite' five, his name comparable to that of McKnight Kauffer for work for London Transport, and a contributor to Post Office posters for some ten years. He was to become the Principal of the distinguished Reimann School for its short life in London just prior to WWII. He then virtually disappeared from the commercial art world, leading a reclusive life in a frustrated attempt to build a belated career as a 'fine' artist. His 'Making a Poster' book is as valid in its advice now as when it was written in 1938.

The mid-20th century brought about an advertising renaissance in the western world. Technology boomed. Standards of living increased, innovation abounded, and 'luxury' consumer products such as TVs, fridges and gas heating became readily available to the public. In order to sell them, ads needed to be as quirky and appealing as the new commodities themselves. This compact yet comprehensive book, written by an experienced design historian, explores the hand-in-hand development of advertisement and the many household amenities that we take for granted today. This book began its life as an offshoot of another, also written by Ruth Artmonsky, but focusing on the advertising of furniture. Her research led her to discover the expansive genre of domestic appliance advertising - not relevant to her book, but more than interesting enough to merit a new text in its own right. Adverts that caught Ruth's eye include "an advertisement for a gas iron, and a rare one of a man admitting he might be able to do the laundry when the house purchased a washing machine." Discover all this and more in Powering the Home.

For much of the 20th century it was customary for many artists, when finding themselves with family responsibilities, to turn reluctantly to commercial art for a living, whilst waiting to be recognised as 'fine' artists. Unashamed Artists is a celebration of those artists who saw commercial art as a valid outlet for their talents, and who felt that a commissioning brief stimulated rather constrained creativity; they were not only not ashamed, they were proud of what they had chosen to do. The book covers some 50 years of British commercial art from the 1920s and includes accounts of iconic work by such artists as Tom Purvis, Tom Eckersley, Austin Cooper, Eric Fraser, Frank Newbould, and Francis Marshall.

Holidaying was something only the wealthy could afford, well into the 19th century, visiting spas or taking the Grand Tour. With the coming of the railways whole factories, streets, even towns began to down tools for an annual break; with entrepreneurs like Thomas Cook, some even venturing across the Channel. The arrival of the combustion engine further democratised travel enabling some to holiday independently, others in organised charabancs and coach parties. By the end of WWII with the coming of cheap flights Marbella and Majorca began to replace the British resorts. Providing holidays became a highly competitive business between resorts and tour operators and this necessitated advertising. Holidaying is an account of this, richly illustrated to show the changes in fads and fashions when holidaying reached a mass market.

The 'golden age' of advertising is usually seen to be the last decades of the 20th century, centred on Fitzrovia, vast in quantity, swamping the plethora of magazines and newspapers appearing (and disappearing) at that time, and making optimal use of the novelty of commercial television. But the true 'golden age' of British advertising was in the decades immediately after the First World War, when zealous entrepreneurs banded together in local clubs and in national bodies to take the activity from the back room of jobbing printers or from being sketched on the back of envelopes on ego-driven managers' desks to becoming a valid profession. It was in the inter-war years that Titans in the field, such as William Crawford and Charles Higham, not only built their own empires and taught the government how to publicise itself, but even morphed the concept of advertising and publicity from something rather shady and disreputable to having a moral status of being a crucial arm of the nation's economy and an educator of the masses. This book tells the story of some of these early agencies and the contribution they made.