Saved

Torres, who is thirty-three, is more attuned to the visual world than most comedians. His imagination is a comic synesthesia, assigning anthropomorphic traits to colors, objects, and design flaws.

There once was a chandelier at the Metropolitan Opera who thought that the audience was applauding just for him. The chandelier fell in love with one of the janitors, a man named Rocco, and wanted only Rocco to change his bulbs. Rocco returned the chandelier’s love, but when his boss found out about the affair he was fired. Late one night, Rocco broke into the Met and stole the chandelier. They settled into Rocco’s apartment, blissful in their union, the chandelier’s light blazing through the window onto the street below.This peculiar romance is not from a magical-realist novel or a quarantine fever dream. It’s an idea for a digital short that Julio Torres pitched again and again at “Saturday Night Live,” where he worked as a writer from 2016 to 2019.

In Torres’s HBO special, “My Favorite Shapes,” which was released in 2019, Torres sits on a dreamlike pastel set, and, as small items come out on a conveyor belt, he narrates their inner thoughts. A pink rectangle with a chipped corner is “having a really bad day.” An oval is prone to gazing at its reflection, “wishing he were a circle.” The conceit sounds twee, but Torres’s delivery has the matter-of-factness of a child describing the secret lives of his toys

Tita told me, in Spanish. The family shares an aesthetic language, influenced by the Memphis design movement of the eighties, which favors bold colors and cutout shapes;

He refuses to use credit cards (“I just don’t like games”) and, for a time, shut down his bank account. “At that point, I had, like, forty dollars,” he said.

Finally, he spied a brocade with a blue-and-green watercolor pattern. He pulled the bolt from the shelf and felt the cloth between his fingers. “A floral that’s not a floral!” he said. “It does exist.”

Tita loved science fiction and Brazilian telenovelas, which often feature fantastical story lines. Torres half-remembered one about a man in a dungeon whose lover is reincarnated as the moon.

Unhappy with Mattel’s premade Dream Houses, he enlisted his mother to make customized homes out of cardboard. “I wanted circular windows and for the doors to open a certain way, so she made them per my specifications, setting me on this lifelong journey of being, like, ‘If it doesn’t exist, I have to create it,’ ” he said. (At “Saturday Night Live,” he channelled his Barbie obsession into a recurring sketch in which interns at Mattel write captions for Barbie’s Instagram account.) His parents encouraged his nontraditional interests. “It gave him the power to be different against the world,” his sister said.

When Torres was eleven, his grandfather died, leaving crippling debts, which his father inherited. His mother’s store went out of business, and the family had to move to a farmhouse where Tita had been brought up, on the outskirts of the city. Torres was prone to allergies and developed a respiratory condition. He hated the outdoors. And he no longer had his mother’s seamstresses at his beck and call.

He and his sister won scholarships to attend a private high school in San Salvador, where their rich classmates were picked up by servants. “I got picked up by my dad, whose car was older than I am,” he said. “Oh, my God, the noise the car made, pulling up to this castle.”

His second time applying to the New School, he got a significant scholarship, and in 2009 he moved to Manhattan, with enough money to live there for two years. “They wanted a translation of my transcripts, because they were in Spanish, so I translated them myself and I embellished a bunch of courses,” he said. “And then I sheepishly put it in front of the admissions officer, and she was, like, ‘Oh, my God, why didn’t you say you took all these courses when you applied?’ And she takes out her calculator and says, ‘You’re a junior, not a freshman.’ And I’m, like, ‘Ooh, I guess I am.’ ”

he found a job as an art archivist for the estate of the late painter John Heliker. He worked in a windowless vault in Newark, cataloguing Heliker’s papers. “I glamorized the optics of that job,” he said. “Solitude has never really been a problem for me. I liked how weird and difficult it was.”

Working at the coat check one day, he recalled, “I overheard this elderly rich woman tell this other elderly rich woman, ‘Oh, remind me to send you that article on how good standing is for you.’ That was the moment where I realized that New Yorker cartoons were based on a reality.”

Torres was a peculiar presence in the comedy scene, which is riddled with dudes in flannel shirts complaining about their girlfriends. He usually read non sequiturs from a notebook, with a flat affect. “He would always say ‘Hi’ before he started,” Einbinder said. “And then, at the end, he would always say, ‘So unless anyone has any questions . . .’ ”

In order to apply to stay in the country as a comedian, he had to pay more than five thousand dollars in legal and filing fees. His new friends in the comedy world, including Chris Gethard, Jo Firestone, and Newman, made a YouTube video called “Legalize Julio,” and the money was raised in an hour. His new visa classified him as an “alien of extraordinary ability.”

“I’ve seen so many corporations—HBO included—talk about how now it’s time to ‘elevate Black voices,’ and that got me thinking about the Hollywood fairy tale that representation equals change,” he said. “For a while, I have felt like a pawn in this hollow representation game. Because what the hell does Disney’s ‘Coco’ do for Mexican children? Bob Iger gets richer. That’s the climax. And then I’m researching the C.E.O.s of these media conglomerates, and they’re predictably the mushiest white faces you can think of. You see who is reaping the benefits of all the ‘woke’ content that me and my peers produce, and it’s just these kings. These monarchs.” He let out a cynical laugh. “I don’t know what the answer is.”

Torres was hired at “Saturday Night Live” in 2016, as the show was feeling pressure to diversify. He had applied for a writing job and been rejected, but then was asked to audition as a cast member. “Instead of showing a wide array of characters that I could play, I just stood there and did my standup, with glitter on my face,” he recalled. He was brought on initially as a guest writer. Torres managed to float above the show’s nerve-racking backstage culture. “It’s the tradition to wear a suit on Saturdays,” Jeremy Beiler told me. “On Julio’s first Saturday show, he showed up in a sparkly silver jacket. I was just, like, ‘Oh, that’s another way to do it.’ ”

Torres is clear-eyed about his success. “I’m certainly not bringing in the big bucks for HBO,” he told me. “It feels like ‘Game of Thrones’ is a rich student, and I’m the scholarship kid.”

One by one, he summoned an all-star roster of guest performers. First up was the comedian Nick Kroll, who was lounging in front of a roaring fireplace. Torres gave lessons in “hand acting,” instructing him to act out scenarios using only his hands, such as dropping a knife after committing a murder: “But you didn’t plan for the murder—it sort of just happened.” Kroll tried it, using a pen. “One thing I found missing from your knife-dropping was regret,” Torres said, then tilted his own camera toward his hands and acted the scene with quivering fingers.

Fred Armisen played a similar game with letters of the alphabet. “I have very strong feelings about Q,” Torres proclaimed. “To me, Q is misplaced in the alphabet. Q should be all the way in the back with the avant-garde X-Y-Z.” He imagined Q performing early in the evening at a rock club, between the more mainstream letters P and R. “Q is doing noise music, and people are, like, Whoa.”

To find jobs more quickly, students tend to showcase the types of work most in demand in our industry, making website and app redesigns the overwhelming majority of case studies being published.

The myopic focus on shorter time-to-job metrics requires schools to standardize their design curricula — a trend which is reflected in the structure of case studies being produced.

The UX bootcamp also benefits from its students’ projects being published on Medium: case studies become content marketing that helps attract new students — and therefore revenue.

How can you differentiate yourself when applying to a position, if case studies from other candidates look exactly the same at first glance?

formulas create the illusion that real projects will always follow those same predetermined steps. In reality, working with both in-house and agency teams is too chaotic to apply a one-size-fits-all methodology

Research budgets are not always available; user journeys are not always necessary.

Many case studies start with an unexplained “user need” that one infers is the student’s personal need (e.g. "an easier way to share music on Spotify"). User research is then utilized in an attempt to prove that other people experience the same problem.

Because students are used to ticking boxes on a standard design process template provided by their school, they forget to explain why they are utilizing a particular method. If everyone’s process is somewhat the same, what is your unique angle to the way you work?

Insights gathered from one step are rarely applied to the next one. As a result, most case studies feel complete, but few feel smart.

Many case studies describe the project process in great detail, only to conclude with a solution which is predictable, unpolished, and/or lacking insight.

There are only so many audiences a single case study can speak to. If the student’s main objective in creating a case study is to get a foot in the industry, it might be a good idea for them to prioritize recruiters and hiring managers when thinking about their public-facing output. Ultimately, recruiters are the ones who screen candidates and hiring managers are the ones who make the final decision.

Because their time is limited, most hiring managers do not go through a designer’s entire portfolio, but instead review a couple of case studies

Since they must review a high volume of case studies as part of the recruiting process, hiring managers rarely read thoroughly, but instead quickly scan students’ work in search of talent

First [I do] just a quick scan. If the work looks interesting then I proceed to a more thorough analysis. This can range from 30 seconds to 15 or 20 minutes, it all depends on the quality and quantity of the work. Weak portfolios get discarded in seconds. Really good portfolios are analyzed in-depth and I usually end up on the candidate’s website or Twitter account. — Head of Design, 13 years of experience

Another common concern raised by the upper-level managers we spoke with was the extreme focus on the part of students on the design process, at the expense of the quality of the output. They reported that this was especially the case with UX and product-focused portfolios.

I jump to the final designs, I want to see the outcome of the case study. Only then, if the final designs are solid I go back and try to understand the designer’s process. You see a lot of people building really deep use-cases, but the execution fails and right now I need designers who can think and deliver, not one or another. — VP of Product Design, 17 years of experience

Your case study structure should reflect the areas that most interest you as well as the ones that will help you reach your personal goals. What type of company do you want to work with, and what kind of story will make the design leadership of that organization excited about the possibility of working with you?

If UI design is one of your strengths, showing personas that are shallow or unresearched can hurt more than they can help.

If you are writing about a real project for a real client, it’s important to explain the constraints and limitations around which you were working. If there were no constraints involved —as in the case of a project completed as part of a UX course— hiring managers will expect the designs to be as as innovative as possible, and will be frustrated if they are not.

Focus on insights rather than process

Reading an insightful case study is much more exciting than reading one that is complete but uninspired.

Would someone feel compelled to retweet a random sentence from your case study?

how you brought those insights to each subsequent step of the process.

The case study should tell a story about how you think and how you design — it's never about the project itself. Ideally, your case study should reflect your personality so strongly that it would feel out of place in any other designer’s portfolio.

What excited you the most about working on this project when you first received the brief?

A case study should focus less on the project it portrays and more on the skills and personality of its designer.

it should provide a platform for you to talk about the things you believe as a designer: your passion (reflected in how much time and attention you invested in the project), your thinking (demonstrated by how you connect the dots throughout your process), and your insights as you learn new things and evolve in your career.