A series devoted to beautifully designed things found in unexpected places.
I was first introduced to Poler Camping Stuff through a design blog last year and I've had the camping itch (no, not chiggers) ever since. By that, I mean their branding makes me want to quit a job that I love to go live in the woods with friends forever. If you read my last Design Finds post on Best Made axes, you are probably aware of my affinity for the Great Outdoors and cheesy camping puns (see: pining over lumberjack paraphernalia) and are perhaps somewhat weary of such nonsensical outdoorsy quips. Well have no fear noble reader, for I'm fairly certain that I've exhausted all possible iterations of such tawdry wilderness lingo and can assure you that this post will not be nearly as campy as the last — well, starting now.
Poler is a company started in Portland by a bunch of skate/snow/surf boarding creatives who all share a passion for adventure and the Great Outdoors. They sell various camping equipment as well as branded apparel. Their logo is set in a wooly hand-drawn font and is often accompanied by a one-eyed monster/tree. I am currently the proud owner of their Two Man Tent — as opposed to just The Man Tent — as well as their beautiful canvas Rucksack (both pictured above). The Poler crew knows that details matter. The tent is the perfect size and shape for two people and has two entrances as well as a monster-eye-shaped window on the rain fly. The Rucksack has optional side bags for additional storage space, leather embellishments along the front and zippers and even a slot for your laptop — for when you're NOT camping of course.
Poler's branding shows the benefits of having creative people on your team. Talented designers like Caleb Owen Everitt and Aaron Draplin have helped keep the brand consistent and consistently awesome. Each item comes well-branded with their logo, or some variation of it, and is typically either black, orange, or camo. Every few weeks they release an Adventure Series — a photographic memoir of various trips and expeditions taken by one of their many talented photographers. The photographs, beautiful in an analogue/retro/1970's kind of way, serve not only as a catalog displaying Poler Stuff in use, but also as a harbinger of their brand essence: adventure.
shot by Ben Christensen
Shot by Benji Wagner
shot by Alana Paterson
Now get off your computer, go outside and stare at a tree.
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A series devoted to beautifully designed things found in unexpected places.
Last week I bought an axe.
I am no woodsman — though I’d like to be — and I have never cut down a tree. I can’t grow a beard and I only own one flannel shirt (it was on sale at Urban Outfitters). So when I found myself on the Best Made website drooling over hand-painted, individually numbered, luxury axes, I couldn’t help but wonder why. I’m not one to pine over petty lumberjack paraphernalia so I’m not exactly sure how this came to be. Perhaps it was the annual camping trip I’ve taken with friends for the past several years that got my, pardon the expression, fires burning. But that can’t be the reason because despite my boy scout efforts to always be prepared, I never go looking for camping materials more than a day in advance. So I’m left with one conclusion: beautiful design.
Not only is the Best Made website simple and easy to navigate — with sparse typography and all products placed against a stark white background — but the products themselves, aside from being handmade works of art, are utilitarian in nature. Axes that actually cut down trees. Scissors that could last a lifetime. They even sell tweezers designed by an industrial machinist. There are brilliantly curated books, maps turned into art, and even custom-made maple syrup. From the elegant tags that speak to the history of the company to the Best Made packaging tape used on the box, every detail is meticulously considered.
When I delved further into the Best Made brand, I was not surprised to find that their founder, Peter Buchanan-Smith, was a graphic designer. Best Made, through simple design and an awareness of its core values (courage, compassion, grace, fortitude) has successfully made a tool once exclusive to woodsmen and loggers into a work of art coveted by nerdy designers like me, who will use it once, maybe twice, for fear of scuffing the logo. In this way, we see that design can be used as a tool to reveal new interests to an audience formerly uninterested.
I see the typeface “Hobo” in a lot of different places — labels, signs, posters, logos – the list goes on. I once thought that this was one of the ugliest type designs out there, but I now realize that it’s not the design itself, or even the terrible name — it’s mostly because of how it’s used and misused. Of all the type crimes out there (thank you Ellen Lupton: http://www.thinkingwithtype.com/contents/extras/#Type_Crimes), you’ll often find Hobo as a nearby accomplice. And I’ve certainly made my jokes about this “awful” typeface over the years, but once I studied the origin and the history of this design, I’ve become much less critical.
Stylistically, Hobo looks like something crafted from 1970′s, but was actually designed in 1910 towards the end of the Art Noveau Movement. It was designed by Morris Fuller Benton, one of America’s most prolific typeface designers. After closer examination, the letters are actually well-proportioned (when typeset properly) — every part of each letter is curved, which gives it a decorative effect, but with a modern twist. It’s lowercase letters are unique — descenders that do not drop below the baseline. Yeah, it’s weird — but it’s designed to be a display type. Fairly progressive for 1910, considering that most typography from that period was very decorative and ornate.
So I’m no longer a Hobo-hater. I just hate seeing it being misused.
Note: If you’ve seen examples of Hobo type out there (good or bad), please send some pics my way – I’m starting a collection of images and would love to include yours! Thanks.
The oldest use of Hobo I've ever seen!
Type Crime!
“A poster, unlike a painting, is not and is not meant to be, a work easily distinguished by its manner—a unique specimen conceived to satisfy the demanding tastes of a single more or less enlightened art lover. It is meant to be a mass-produced object existing in thousands of copies like a fountain pen or automobile. Like them, it is designed to answer certain strictly material needs. It must have a commercial function.”
-AM. Cassandre, translated by Michael Taylor
AM Cassandre, "Dubonnet" - 1932
In a few days I will be traveling to Paris for a vacation and I wanted to familiarize myself with the history of French design, but I found no books or blogs on its history. This is, perhaps, due to France’s overwhelming amount of cultural history in painting, cinema, food, and fashion. Though French design seems to play a smaller role in France’s cultural history when compared to so many other facets of artistic expression, it’s advertising (publicité) and typographic (graphisme) legacies are by no means insignificant to a broad popular culture. (1) Below you will find an assortment of beautiful French posters that represent a rich cultural history of French graphic design.
Toulouse-Lautrec, "La Chaine Simpson" 1890's
Roland Ansieau, "Berger" 1935
Raymond Savignac, "Autorail Paris" 1937
Ramond Savignac, "Cigarettes Collie" 1952
Bernard Villemot, "Orangina" 1953
Recently, while roaming the aisles of Barnes & Noble, I came across a shelf of beautiful leather bound books, foil stamped to perfection and classically styled with a timeless design. The edge of every page was painted to compliment the well-purposed colors of the cover. The vintage marbled endpapers looked as though they could have been torn straight from the walls of my grandmother’s circa-1970′s bathroom. The type was exquisitely crafted by hand, subtly extending into gorgeous swirling swashes shifting and flowing in space, creating shapes that even Mondrian couldn’t have arranged with much ease. Bordering patterns evenly embellished every edge and corner, giving balance to the frame of the book.
There was no New York Times quote, no rave review, no, dare I say it, Oprah Sticker; just a beautifully crafted piece of literature (or art, really) that enraptured me. I knew I had to have one—if not to read, then to keep on my bookshelf so that I could one day show my future grandson what a real book looks like, hopefully inspiring in him a nostalgic longing for the preservation of the past. Because after all, that’s what they’ll become. With the invasion of the electronic book—they even sell them in bookstores now—I fear that the real books so many of us love and cherish are soon to be forgotten.
However, as long as there are people writing books, I get the feeling there will be people like Jessica Hische (the illustrator of these brilliant book covers) to design them into something beautiful and lasting. If you ever find yourself roaming the aisles of a bookstore and you find a beautiful book, pick it up and admire it for the weight of its cover, the design on its face, the smell of its pages, and the spot on your bookshelf that it will soon take.
As I said before, the books I’m describing here were illustrated by the sickeningly-talented Jessica Hische, who never ceases to amaze me with her super-human typography/design/illustration/money/life/nunchuck skills. PLEASE check out her work if you haven’t before. She’s truly inspiring.
-Kevin Archie, Design Apprentice
Literacy 2030 is an initiative lead by the Central Carolina Community Foundation that unites literacy organizations across the Midlands of South Carolina. With the admittedly aspirational goal of achieving 100 percent literacy in South Carolina by 2030, the organization supports literacy service providers by facilitating member communication, encouraging collaboration and providing access to funding sources.
We loved developing this identity system and branding platform, and we’re hard at work on a website to be launched in mid-September.
Strategy and creative team: Cathy Monetti, Ryon Edwards, Kathryn White, Kendra Schaefer (thepixellary.com)
In meeting a few weeks ago, I listened to a conversation that revolved around a logo. A glance revealed the existing logo was dated, but the client was interested in a refresh, so there was a plan to show the client a three-step journey. The designers showed a range of logo options that took the mark forward ever so slightly, then two steps forward and then just a little further.
What a smart thing to do for a brand to do: take a step forward.
In 2010, the world witnessed the Gap-tastrophe that was the new Gap logo and “brand.” Shortly after that unfolded, we witnessed the Starbucks micro-refresh which was discussed ad nauseam because of its unfortunate timing on the coattails of the Gap disaster.
Gap logo -- attempted refresh (image via NY Magazine)
At what point does brand equity turn into a detriment? If your logo looks like it fell out of 1982, what does that say about your company? Do you wear the same clothes you wore ten years ago? Are the walls of your house the same color they were in 2001? You’re probably not even living in the same house. There’s no denying things and people change—sooner than we probably like. Still, I find it interesting that many companies are resistant to evolution.
I’m afraid they confuse internal equity and external loyalty, hanging on to an identity or mindset they like and feel invested in rather than one that could give their brand a lift with the people at the heart of the matter: their customers.
When a brand establishes rock-solid principles reflected in their actions, that’s equity that should be off limits. A company’s basic platform should deliver far more mileage than the mark that identifies their business. After all, that’s what the company is built upon.
For a recent naming assignment we were working on, the “@” symbol and the “&” symbol came up in conversation. I’ve always loved the typographic character of the “and” symbol, known as the ampersand. The symbol is one of the oldest alphabetic abbreviations and dates back to Roman times. It evolved from the Latin word et, which means and. If you’ve ever noticed elaborate (italic) styles of ampersands, the Et letterforms are quite visible in the design. Ampersands were traditionally used for display (larger) work, as opposed to smaller, longer format texts, so the designs were more creative and elaborate. Over time, and with the creation of modern sans-serif styles, the symbol has become simplified and less ornate.
