Business cards before the rain stops

The plan was the street; the rain rewrote it ▸ 2:24, and Carlos’s observation set the day’s task: leaving just a phone number looks improvised, “realmente da mucha más confianza la tarjetica de presentación” ▸ 2:08. Design goes the house way: a screenshot of the old futuristic mockup into Nano Banana for a brainstorm, which dutifully incorporates the phone’s camera holes into the logo until told otherwise ▸ 3:53, then loosens up under “no le tenga miedo a salirse de la caja” ▸ 4:08, with Julia replicating the winner in Canva ▸ 9:02.

The tool discovery is the entry’s keeper: Chrome’s right-click menu makes a QR code of any page, free, permanent ▸ 7:13, against the QR-generator sites whose codes route through a shortener that counts your scans and then expires or charges once the count gets interesting ▸ 8:14. A dependency on someone else’s redirect is a dependency on someone else’s business model.

el QR de terceros es un peaje disfrazado; el navegador ya lo hacía gratis →

Then the physical world quotes its prices: fifty cards runs 50,000 pesos, a thousand pesos per piece of cardboard ▸ 33:35, and the metallic-shine finish they designed for exists only “por millares”, a thousand cards with foil for 160,000 ▸ 34:01, cheap per unit and absurd in total for a startup whose QR might change next month ▸ 34:10. The resolution is the week’s recurring word: a simple card, no shine, spend the minimum, “good enough que yo siempre digo” ▸ 36:31. Print-run minimums are the physical world’s version of scope creep: the fancier spec quietly multiplies the quantity, and the quantity was never the goal…