If you’ve ever wondered what it would look like if someone tried to visualize the phrase “graphic chaos with a budget,” look no further than Confusion Has Its Cost. Because apparently, the cost is taste.
This cover is the unholy intersection of stock photo noir and clip-art inferno. We’ve got a mysterious woman — the universal shorthand for “I want this to look sexy but I don’t know how” — wearing a giant hat that’s doing most of the storytelling. Beneath it, the world’s glossiest pair of red lips pout in the general direction of a burning hundred-dollar bill, because nothing says “deep and mysterious” like committing financial arson for art.
The bill itself? Oh, it’s on fire, baby — or at least, a low-res PNG of fire awkwardly pasted onto a very unburned piece of currency. The flames don’t cast a single reflection, which gives the impression that the fire, too, is confused about why it’s here. Franklin’s face looks less “engulfed in flames” and more “mildly inconvenienced.”
Now let’s address the typography, because the fonts are practically begging for intervention.
“CONFUSION” appears in a jagged red ransom-note font that seems to have been carefully crafted to induce mild headaches. The letter sizing shifts erratically, like someone typed it while emotionally processing an energy drink. Below it, “Has Its Cost” sits there in lime-green cursive, adding all the gravitas of a supermarket discount sticker. Together, they’re less “mystery thriller” and more “graphic design class final project: Week 3.”
And that green band across the bottom with the author’s name? A random act of typography violence. It’s the design equivalent of a highway median — unnecessary, intrusive, and serving no purpose except to separate you from your sense of aesthetic peace.
But perhaps the most striking thing about this cover is how earnestly it’s trying. The ingredients scream drama, danger, seduction — and yet the result looks like a credit card commercial directed by a film student with access to only three stock photos. The vibe is “espionage noir,” but the execution says “PowerPoint template titled Risk Management Seminar 2014.”
Everything about this cover is at war with itself: color, composition, tone, and dignity.
It’s a masterclass in misunderstanding the word metaphor.
In the end, Confusion Has Its Cost doesn’t just tell you — it shows you.
Because here we are, paying the price in visual suffering.