Graphic Journey Blog

Living the brand

You pay 5p per supermarket bag to freely advertise for the store.

 

I have never had an obsession with branded fashion items. By that I mean wanting to be overt about it.

A decade or so back the VW badges were constantly being stolen from cars.

 

I do have a loyalty to Volkswagen, having driven their cars for so many years. Despite their emissions tampering, I still forgive them. But then that's cars – they are always badged and do need identifying, so I can't get around the one. But I always remove any window stickers that may have been added.

 

 

 

Above some major free advertising.

 

Trainers are a whole story in themselves.

 

But when it comes to fashion, that is where it stops for me. I have never understood the mentality of people wanting to be festooned with logos all over their clothing. These days, the obsession starts young

with peer pressure at school. It's the must-have latest baseball cap, t-shirt, trainers, etc., all heavily branded. And if not fake, they are all outrageously expensive – often paid for by parents who can't really afford the price tags.

The Fred Perry tennis shirt, an early example of fashion branding from 1952.

 

 

The other was of course Levis jeans. 

 

When I was a teenager back in the 1950s, the only outwardly branded fashion item I can recall is the Fred Perry shirt, and that was pretty discreet. But subtlety has gone out the window these days – people have become moving advertisements.

 

It has been reported that David Beckham can receive up to  £13million in one year for brand advertising.

 

Any other form of advertising for a brand has to be paid for, be it print, online or a TV commercial. I think it is about time that people wised up to this exploitation of their body space. We, of course, see sports personalities and film stars advertising brands, but they not only get paid enormous sums of money but are also given free products to go with it.

 

It would be interesting to know if there has been any research carried out to gauge the influence and sales increases based on people wearing overt brands.

 

In my opinion, major brands should do one of two things regarding their branded products:

 

1. Overtly branded items should be discounted by 20%.

2. Non-branded (or minimal) versions should be sold at full price.

 

In that way, people would have a choice and would be indirectly paid to advertise products.

 

You are not only advertising your chosen team but their sponsors. How crazy it that?

 

The worse examples of free advertising are football strips. It's not just the team advertised but their sponsors too – that is real cheek!

 

Apparently, the Daunt Books bag is very popular with fashion models.

 

 

And, sneakily, high-street shops and supermarkets always have their names emblazoned on their bags and charge you for the pleasure.

 

I have been known to wear a t-shirt for a cause or a piece of non-commercial design that I like, but that is where it stops for me.

 

How to, or not to how to. That is the question.

I met up with a close friend recently at an offshoot of Soho House in Mayfair. It was filled with the usual lively thirty-somethings drinking and embroiled in animated conversation. We found a relatively quiet table and settled in for the evening, doing what graphic designers tend to do: gossip about the state of design; the latest films, television and art; and the wider creative world. 

One interesting topic that surfaced was the plethora of ‘how-to’-style books on graphics that have appeared in recent years. “If only it were that easy,” we both thought. And if it were, it would save all those poor graphics students the £9,200 PA plus ever-increasing interest rates for their three-year university stint. 

Back in the 1960s, the publishers Studio Vista (no longer with us) produced a series of little paperbacks demystifying various aspects of creative disciplines. They were very useful.

Above, just a few of the many books published by Studio Vista back in the 1960's and 70's, all sleeping on my bookshelf.

But you have to remember (you young ones, that is) that back then books and trade magazines were the main outlets to show us what was going on in the graphics world. Instant gratification was not available – it was a far slower affair. Now, of course, you can tap ‘Swiss graphics’ into a search engine and within seconds have an astonishing resource appearing on your screen while sipping a flat white at your favourite coffee shop. 

I have no idea if the ‘how-to’ books actually work (do let me know if they have worked for you). But many of them are stuffed with projects and overly written. Oddly, last year’s D&AD annual was turned into a mammoth instruction manual. I found it absolutely tedious – I just wanted to see the year’s selected and awarded work, not to be lectured to. 

We started on our main course and became more absorbed in this ‘how-to’ topic, and we wracked our brains to recall a book of this type that actually had an effect on us. We agreed on two.

The first was Bob Gill’s Forget All the Rules You Ever Learned About Graphic Design (1981). It’s utter directness and downright simplicity of explaining, in as few words as possible, a design problem followed by a design solution really hit the spot.

Two typical spreads with an utter economy of words.

The stark typographical cover and dictatorial message were the forerunners to the presentation formula that most books would adopt some three decades later.

Paul Arden's Whatever You Think, Think The Opposite (2006) is a good example of this genre.

The second book we both felt that had great value was Identity Kits: A Pictorial Survey of Visual Signals by Germano Facetti and Alan Fletcher (1971). It is very much about the notion of looking; for a designer, attuning the eye to lock on to the ordinary and extraordinary is one of the key attributes in his/her creative armoury.

A book I bought back in 1987, reprinted from 1963, is David Ogilvy’s Confessions of an Advertising Man.

Although not strictly a 'how to' book, every chapter did start with 'How to...'

It is not strictly a ‘how-to’ book but is actually full of wisdom about writing, psychology, marketing and running a company. In his introduction, Ogilvy set out why he wrote the book: “First, to attract new clients to my advertising agency. Second, to condition the market for a public offering of our shares. Third, to make myself better known in the business world.” He goes on to confirm that he achieved all three – Ogilvy was not known for modesty. But he writes like a dream. Concise, witty and persuasive. So I would certainly rate this book as an influence on me, and, refreshingly, it only contained one image in the entire book. Sometimes words are worth a thousand pictures.

 

Things I like...

Spotted this rather charming book cover in Daunt Books among the many shouty covers vying for position. It was designed by Richard Green. Nice Richard.

Architectural atrocities

London's increasingly chaotic and ugly skyline.

A list of London’s ugliest buildings was published earlier this week. It has never ceased to amaze me that London is fast becoming a litany of horrid architectural structures. To show you just a small example, I set off on my daily walk. My route was from Clerkenwell to Bermondsey and a leisurely meander back again.

During my life, I have witnessed post-war reconstruction, from the new towns and high-rise flats replacing the old, but perfectly saveable, Georgian and Victorian terraces; to the 1960s office boxes; to the advent of brutalism and the world of high-tech, post-modernism and minimalism; and to our present mania for ‘how many different shape buildings can we erect in London?’ ‘Erect’ is the perfect word for those egotistical architects imposing their buildings on us. Let's start with some oldies, many still with us.

Above: some 1960/70's examples on 'home' envisaged by the architects of the day.

A far more enlightened vision of 'home' by Eric Lyons for Span Houses in the 1960's.

The horrors of post modernism.

and minimalism; and to our present mania for ‘how many different shape buildings can we erect in London?’ ‘Erect’ is the perfect word for those egotistical architects imposing their buildings on us.

 Courtesy of my iPhone camera, here is a little visual record of my walk. We kick off at the very end of my road with this monstrosity...

And diagonally opposite that, this ugly rust box...

Farther down Farringdon Road, we have a building that flanks the underground line. It’s a feeble, cheap attempt at post-modernism of the worst kind. Part of the building is still in its original grey and pink granite cladding...

with the remaining two-thirds recently painted in matt black, evoking a very sinister stance...

Just across Blackfriars Bridge, and nearing completion, is the latest addition to the ‘mine’s a different shape and bigger than yours’ architectural club...

The £3+ million apartments will no doubt be snapped up by overseas investors to be left half occupied. Just opposite the above is a building with a fold to mark its identity...

On Hopton Street, I then pass Samson House...

a hangover from the brutalist period of the 60's 70's and what must be one of the most bombastic and inhuman-looking structures ever built in London. And just around the corner from that is the new Tate Switch House building...,

this time with an indented fold. I find it shockingly ugly, with the inside spaces even worse. By this time, I felt the need to find something on a human scale...

and some semblance of beauty. And this is Hopton’s Charity Almshouses. They have been in continuous occupation since 1752. This humble little grouping is a perfect metaphor for what is happening in London. We are all being claustrophobically hemmed in. On my dawdle back, there was an occasional glimpse of London’s industrial past.

Back across Blackfriars Bridge, I can’t resist snapping an old favourite: the charmingly intact art nouveau pub The Black Friar...

festooned with beautifully crafted decoration in bronze, mosaic and stained glass. It embraces you the moment you enter its dimly lit interior. It is pure delight.

I carry on down Farringdon Road, stop at Holborn Viaduct Bridge and look up and see this dark, twisted mess peering over the top...

 

All of the buildings I have criticised have been imposed on us with little regard to their effect on the senses. Beauty seems to be a missing ingredient in most 21st-century buildings. These structures will hang around for many decades to come and, like the swarms of young men and women sporting, from head to foot, brightly coloured tattoos applied to their taught, firm flesh, they will, as their skin wrinkles, lose those once-vibrant colours, fading into a mussy grey, looking like some awful skin disease. 

By the end of my walk, I increasingly felt a little like John Betjeman, who lamented what had replaced so many much-beloved buildings.

Finally, out of desperation, I head for Charterhouse Square, not far from Smithfield market, to just spend a little time there...

The recently renovated Charterhouse dates back to 1348 and has served as a monastery, a private mansion, a boys’ school and still today an alms house for the needy. The building and its little garden are utterly tranquil and are the perfect place to end this Betjemanesque little rant. 

Scarborough rock: Part 2: Where did all those years go?

Me on the right with Dr Rock (Charles White)

Following on from last week here is the second part of my appearance on BBC York's Dr Rock here.

For Part One click here.