CASE STUDY: CHANEL

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: FRANCE

INDUSTRY: FASHION

Hey friends, everyone's favorite logo inspector here with a quick look this week at one of the more iconic logos in the fashion world, if not the world itself. Yes, it's CHANEL. Forgive me if I seem more surprised at the story behind this brand than some of you, but fashion isn't necessarily my thing, and if it is yours, that's cool too.

But yes, Chanel as a brand was the brainchild of Gabrielle Chanel, better known to history as "Coco Chanel." I thought this was some long story about socialites and children of some magnate putting gobs of capital into their fashion pet projects, and I couldn't have been more wrong. Ms. Chanel grew up in obscurity and relative poverty, and was very much a self-made women. She moved to Paris in the first decade of the 20th century and worked as a seamstress while moonlighting as a cabaret singer at night. One of the more famous songs she sang to soldiers was a song called "Who Has Seen Coco?" In time, it became her nickname, and it stuck when she went on to create her own brand of clothing. Far be it from me to rattle off her historical importance to that industry, but I will say that she built the brand herself by innovating fashion itself, establishing the famous women's Chanel suits, the "little black dress," and of course her famous fragrance, "Chanel No. 5."

THE LOGO

The logo is one of the staples of style and prestige and fashion in the modern Western world, and it's one of those designs whose aesthetic merit and flare are less important than the tradition it carries. Ms. Chanel designed the mark itself, and its two interlocking "C's" obviously stand for her inherited first name and her born surname. There's some interesting interplay between foreground and background within those C's— the more I look at it, the more I start seeing that white, almost almond shaped "thing" in the center, and those two fishtail forms reaching in at either side. But for the most part, it's fairly basic. But, as we've discussed before, in the branding world, there's nothing at all wrong with that.

I love the symmetry. We're symmetrical objects, we people. Have you ever noticed how things that look the same on one side as the other just tend to catch your eye, feel right, feel like that's intuitively how they should be? There's a lot of great articles and studies out there about why human beings crave symmetry in the world around them, how we finding it relaxing or reassuring, and how it reinforces some subconscious desire for order and meaning in the world around us. What's interesting about symmetry in design is it automatically creates this sort of quality control or fact-checking function inside us. You see one side a certain way and almost reflexively your eye drifts to the other side to confirm that it is the same. It's like it automatically triggers the Logo inspector in all of us!

We've also discussed here in previous posts the idea of gender in graphic design. Some designs feel more masculine, and some more feminine. So obviously, a logo for a woman's fashion empire would intuitively be designed as feminine and soft and gentle, right? The answer, of course, is no. This logo is bold, strong, geometric, and balanced, and features a strong, widely stances set of letters to depict its name. Why is that?

I read in this article that Ms. Chanel was originally inspired by a set of ornate windows in a home she lived in as a child, but she did not create the logo until 1925. As a designer and something of a student (and teacher) of the history of graphic design, there are some historical cues that we might follow to see her train of thought in this mark's creation. For example, it's not that feminine stylings in design had not been cultivated at this time; quite the opposite. The Art Nouveau style of design, featuring organic lines and feminine beauty, had already had its day in the sun, peaking somewhere around 1910 or so. At that point, Ms. Chanel was in Paris, of all places, so I'm sure it was all around her and had become the standard for advertising, packaging, and design in general. In other words, it had become status quo.If you might think that this would be the perfect aesthetic styling for a fashion designer trying to make a mark with women's dresses and styles at the dawn of the Roaring 20's, you may be predictably right. And I'm sure that's why Chanel did NOT go this route.

The 20's saw the emergence of several ideologies of design in art, architecture, and yes, advertising. Art Deco had arrived in Paris by this time, featuring strong, clean, sharp lines that implied power and industry. Likewise modernism was evolving rapidly, featuring simplistic interpretations of the real world that focused less on recreating reality and more about interpreting it in a new aesthetic way.

I would think that all of these factors led Coco Chanel to create her logo the way she did; as a departure from the old, as something bold and masculine, as an almost abstract symbol that became its own visual point of reference. Its roots lie more in traditional French Art Deco (what you and I think of as "Art Deco" probably lies more in the American reception of the Art Deco style, i.e. the look of skyscrapers and Ayn Rand cityscapes and vintage Superman cartoons, etc). But yet there's more to that Chanel logo than that. There's something very abstract in its simplicity, almost suggesting that you should be trying to "see" something in those interlocked C's that isn't actually there. 

TYPOGRAPHY

The typeface is available today, I've seen clones called "Chanel" and "Couture" and a few others that essentially exist to capture the design decisions that went into the Chanel name. But the original typography in the branding was a hand drawn typeface that was just following modern aesthetics; a bold, broad-columned sans serif faces was hardly unique in that window of time, but it was fresh and new and helped channel a sense of something stylish and modern.

What's amazing is that over the next fifty years that same art direction of the Chanel brand, and even Coco Chanel herself, became a standard of timeless style and sophistication as a result of the products that were associated with it. You can see here as these advertisements evolved from the 20's into the 60's, the design remained consistent, but just FEELS more and more substantial as they pass down through time. As I've said in the past, graphic design can be created to invoke many things, but tradition can never be invented.

In the end, it's a great example of how a brand, a logo, even just a name, can have decades of equity and user appreciation attached to it. The style or the design decisions really aren't as important as the product and its emotional and material value to the user, which is almost funny to hear myself say because as a designers and artists, we're constantly trying to tell ourselves otherwise. 

In any case, the Chanel brand is one of the more famous ones in the landscape of logos, whether you're a fashion person or not. I love how simple icons like these become a part of the visual vocabulary of our civilization that transcends individual countries, languages and societies. Simple shapes like the Chanel C's or, say, the golden arches become archetypes that we just recognize, regardless of who we are. It's almost like these logos are as integral to the human condition as letters or numbers. Or maybe I just think about this stuff too much.

What do you guys think? Leave comments on the Twitter page! I'd love to hear some feedback. Thanks!

Sources include: Wikipedia, Medium.com, bbc.co.uk, etc

CASE STUDY: BASKIN ROBBINS

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN: USA

INDUSTRY: Food

Yes, of course, it's the Baskin Robbins logo. If you live under a rock or perhaps above the Arctic Circle, you may not be familiar with the brand, but Baskin Robbins is an ice cream franchise. Their tagline and marketing gimmick is "31 flavors," which basically revolves around what was once a novel concept that while most ice cream shops would offer you vanilla, strawberry, chocolate and perhaps a few rotating flavors, Baskin Robbins would always have 31 choices, setting them apart and perhaps attracting customers solely for its promise of variety and choice. Why 31? Well, apparently the number is meant to suggest you can go there "every day for a month and not have the same flavor twice." Not a bad idea, I suppose— it suggests repeat visits and almost feels like a dare in advertising form.

HISTORY

I'm not gonna dive too deep on the history assessment this week. Apparently the brand has been around since 2018, and the whole '31' marketing gag has been around since, well, before marketing was even a thing. These old logos are pretty strange though-- it's amazing how you need that 'Ice Cream' in there just to establish what the heck it is. The old cowboy fonts and inclusion of brown probably were there to suggest chocolate, strawberry and vanilla, but without the "Ice Cream" spelling it out, they kind of look like old stock car graphics from the 50's or something. Very bizarre.

The current logo was rolled out in 2006, and it's this one that I'm going to focus my attack. I mean, my review.

WHAT I LIKE

Ummm, the colors, I guess?

This logo is one of those ones that always show up on those "clever logos" lists that people outside of the business seem to throw together for, well, reasons.

I do like the colors. They're unique the pink does contrast quite well with the blue. It would seem that Baskin Robbins has been partnering some shade of blue with a bubble gum pink for some time now. It makes sense; the colors feel whimsical and candy like, and they just sort of scream treat or sweet. "I scream for ice cr--" okay okay, I'll stop now.

But yeah, beyond that... this isn't one of those type of appreciative posts.

WHAT I DO NOT LIKE

Yeah, yeah, the B and the R have a "31" inside them. It's supposed to be one of those "hidden logo finds" that people who don't really understand branding think is smart and well executed. I'd counter that this thing is about as hidden as a 40 foot crater suddenly opening into the earth on your front lawn, but I suppose I don't see these things quite the same as others, so maybe it's just me.

It just feels over the top and way too "trying to be clever" for my taste. It's right there and not at all missing or low key, and I would go so far to say it actually betrays itself in terms of functionality, and I'll tell you why.

Typography is about delivering information using familiar shapes that our brains already recognize. You take a "C," "A," and a "T" and arrange them in a specific order in ways that relate to each other and the viewer's brain sees an animal that meows. But those letters do need to work together. If you start to manipulate those letters or the relationship between them, you also risk changing the viewer's perception of them. If you look at this example here, the first word clearly reads "CAT." the second is less successful, in part because of the atrocious letter spacing. Does the T below with the CA, or is it doing something different? And finally, in the last example, the C is a different color, creating segments of relation your eye as the viewer. You don't see it as C-A-T, you see C and then an A-T beside it. The use of color can seriously hamper the effectiveness of typography. My daughter loves to write words on cards or or notes with every letter a separate color, and what she doesn't realize is, well, it doesn't look like a name, it looks like a collection of letters. The unity breaks down. Gestalt relationships unite visual elements into core ideas, and color variety in the letterforms is usually a gestalt killer.

When it comes to our OH SO CLEVER BH gimmick here in the Baskin Robbins logo, you're actually seeing such a breakdown in the letters themselves. Both the B and the R are segmented, and the segments are colored in such a way to unite the 31... but not the B and R so much. The 31 is visible and apparent because the pink ties them together, but for that same reason I think the BR thing doesn't work. The more I look at those letters, the more I don't even see the BR. What's the name of this place, 31 Flavors?

And don't even get me started on that crazy typeface for the name. the "K" in baskin really bothers me, and it looks like they're trying to look both fun and youthful AND yes, again, clever, all at once, and as a result it doesn't really feel like any of those things. I'm not opposed to the bouncing baseline here-- a baseline is the imaginary line typography rests upon, and in this case it's been sacrificed to look all bouncy and haphazard in its attempt to look "fun" and/or "clever." It's just another thing they have going on here. Too much salt can ruin the soup... and this is some salty broth if you ask me.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I am focusing too much on my own unique perception of the colors and the type, and assuming that's how others see it. Maybe I've always kind of just hated the name because my last name is "Robbins" and I've had more than my share of funny guys growing up who thought they were the very first person to ever consider calling me "Baskin." You know, because they thought they were.... wait for it... "Clever."

But I think this logo is far too cute for its own good, and it kind of gets on my nerves. What do you all think? Anybody wanna go get some Haagen Dasz?

Sources include: BaskinRobbins.com, 1000-logos, logosworld.net, Wikipedia

CASE STUDY: THE DISNEY COMPANY

 Country of Origin: USA

Industry: Ummm, Everything? (Let's just call it Entertainment)

Disney. Technically, its official name as a business entity is THE WALT DISNEY COMPANY. What started out as a fun little drawing of a dancing mouse on a riverboat by a struggling newspaper cartoonist is now easily one of the most recognizable brands in the world and is worth in excess of 350 billion dollars. It is also a proprietary giant, gobbling up and appropriating the most famous brands in entertainment (and often its competitors) with no end in sight. I won't go down the list of the famous brands and franchises we all love and how they have been incorporated into the Disney machine, but just know that however many you can think of, you're probably missing a few.

But how about that logo? What does "Disney" mean, now, and how much has the company fought to actually remove some of the brand attachment we all have with this famous name? Wait, what??

THE SIGNATURE

"Disney."

It's kind of a strange word when you look at it, especially as a designer or typography. Dis and Ney? It kind of reads like it should sound like "Disnay" or "Dis-neigh." It's actually an Irish name, brought over from the Green Isle by Walt's grandparents, to... Ontario, actually. Had Kepple Elias Disney not been convinced to buy land and try farming oranges in Kansas (yeah, I know, right?), we might all be traveling to Sudbury to visit Disneyland.

You've probably grew up being taught or gleamed on your own that the Disney word mark is the signature of Walt Disney himself. A word mark is quite simply a logo or brand asset that renders the business name in a specifically aesthetic way. Basically the name serves as the logo itself. But in this case, the specific graphic style being used to present the name is the hand drawn style of Walt Disney's own signature, right? Well, actually, not quite.

Like many famous people, Walt Disney's signature was rendered and recorded thousands of times, and as the prestige of the Disney Company rose, so too did the fame of his signature itself. Looking through a simple search, it's fairly interesting to note that Walt Disney's signature looks, well, very different at different times. I would think that the one here, a signature perhaps scored outside the gates of Disneyland itself, gives us the most honest look at his signature

Obviously, it's quite different from what we all think of when we think of Walt Disney's signature.

So why the changes? If the logo we know and love and sometimes hate isn't his signature at all, well then, why is it even there? Well, take out a piece of paper and sign your own name. Take a look at it. How visually interesting is it? How legible is it? And perhaps the best question to ask is... do you sign your name to make it interesting, or to get it done as quickly as possible?

Here's a good look at Walt's John Hancock in black ink on a white ground for optimal contrast. Can you even read the words "Walt" or "Disney?" Probably not.

However, Disney was also a cartoonist, and artist signatures ARE more proprietary things that can become a sort of brand within a work of art. As an artist myself, I can assure the signatures I drop into an illustration or other hand drawn piece are usually much more visually appealing that the signature I slap on a check for my niece's birthday.

At any rate, when the decision was made to use Walt's signature as the icon for his entire enterprise, in a sense it no longer was his. Remember, at its inception Disney was an entire studio of artists, so I'm sure his scripted name was developed and refined into a more pleasing standardized appearance. It's worth wondering if Walt himself even had a hand in his own signature word mark. Over the years the style has changed, sometimes departed from what scribbly icon we know today, then returned, slowly but surely evolving into a perfectly sculpted organic treatment that is more art than personal stamp.

EXTENSION

Sometime between the 60's and 80's, the Disney Company emerged as the de facto brand for family entertainment, offering animated films, shorts, weekly television shows, the two premier theme parts of the United States, and merchandising of all sorts and shapes. Disney was beginning to make lots and LOTS of money... and the Disney word mark was along for the ride at every stop. It was also standardized, which is always a good thing in branding. It's absolutely imperative that any brand's logo or word mark ALWAYS LOOKS THE SAME ALL OF THE TIME. It's what builds upon every viewer's experience and emotional attachment to that brand, and increases its recognizability with every exposure.

  

  

As the Disney empire began to grow, the logo added several extensions or sub-brands to the identity system. Brand extension is a term that describes the act of adding additional products or sub-brands related to an existing brand, with the extent of carrying over some of the existing equity or association of the original. It's why companies like Coca-Cola roll out products like Cherry Coke or Coca-Cola Coffee, rather than just release them as new products. If you have a proven winner, it's never a bad idea to attach new products to your existing brand than trying to launch them as new altogether.

In the case of Disney, the onset of all of these new imprints— everything from theme parks to studios to cable networks—saw the Disney word mark attached to all of these ventures. This isn't a bad thing, mind you— with such a dedicated following, using anything other than your existing name would be a failed opportunity to grasp their attention with each consecutive new rollout. But in terms of graphic design, look above.

What you're seeing with all of these sub brands are all of these additional graphic elements for each new venture. Castle icons, mouse ears, mouse sorcerer apprentices, mouse this, mouse that... yes, it's all the same idea, right? Mickey or the Park or some combination of both. Yes, it's all the same in concept-- but visually speaking, it all starts to look different. And do you see how the "Disney" name starts to get lost in all of it?

   

EVOLUTION

Obviously, the corporate growth and evolution of the Disney Company could be its own case study in and of itself, and an exhausting one at that. But, to make a long story short, by the turn of the century and into today, Disney as a business has become a massive empire, spearheaded first and foremost by its entertainment. Disney Pictures and the new Disney Plus are some of the heaviest hitters in the world, and rightfully so with the investments they've made (cough, Marvel, Star Wars, 20th Century Fox, etc).

  

But that's where it gets interesting. As the  the Disney Company has made all of these astronomically wealthy additions, I believe what we're seeing is a change to its core mission as a company. And there is a conscious decision to reflect that in its brand identity. You probably don't need to look hard at that Disney Plus logo-- in the course of about 18 months it's become as instantly recognizable as any other brand on your TV or mobile device, and I'm sure you know it well. But what don't you see?

There's no magic castle, or mouse ears, or anything like that. There's none of the things that made Walt Disney the man into Walt Disney the Brand. In fact, I'd go so far to say that in recent years the Disney Company is consciously trying to subtly distance itself from all of that. Why do you think that is?

Well, I suppose it's because Disney is no longer just Mickey Mouse. It's also Darth Vader, and Iron Man, and Bart Simpson, and ESPN and Indiana Jones. Quite simply, The Disney Company has transcended its own "Disneyness." Disney is now much more than everything we grew up thinking Disney was, and intelligently enough, its branding stewardship had to recognize and accommodate that.

Could you imagine the epic text crawl at the beginning of the next Episode of Star Wars being preceded by a mouse walking across the screen? Or the next Spider-Man movie being heralded as a part of the "House of the Mouse?" No, of course not. It would be bad for the brand, and it would be bad for business. Disney is, quite simply, no longer just about the mouse. Or perhaps a better way of saying it is... the Mickey Mouse side of Disney is now just one of the brands of Disney, and probably not its most popular one at that.

Which is why it all leads back to....

THE WORD MARK

As a logo itself, in pure examination, the Disney word mark is kind of an odd bird. It shouldn't work, really. It's all capitals and yet it's whimsical; It's not as readable as it really should be, and some of those variations in like thickness create some bad design proximities. That swirl in the middle of the "S," for example, feels like it should be problematic. But it's not. It all works. It's all exactly where it should be, and it has SO MUCH CHARACTER.

Why? Why does it work as a logo?

Because of your history with the brand. And mine. And every single person on the planet who was first exposed to it as a child and has always associated it with wonderful feelings and ideals. Things like innocence, and the power of imagination, and good clean fun. These are the things that the Disney brand has always meant to us, and our parents and perhaps even their parents.

There's no inventing tradition in branding, and Disney has plenty of it.

Not bad for a cartoonist from Kansas City, right?

What do you guys think? What does the Disney brand mean to you? And what do you think it'll mean to your children, in the age of Marvel and Star Wars and who knows whatever else they might appropriate in the years to come? Does Disney mean something else to you today than it did 20 years ago?

Sources include: D23, Wikipedia, LogoMyWay, cord cutters, disney.com