Does it fit on a pencil?

Today I was reminded of a boss I once had, Scott Mitchell. He loved to talk marketing, design, and life. I learned a lot from him, and I keep learning, even though he hasn't been my boss for 13 years and he passed away last year. But today, in a meeting, when talking about how I tell a client when I think their logo isn't working, I mentioned Scott's test. He'd ask, "Does it fit on a pencil?" Meaning, if it can't be reduced to fit on a small space, then it doesn't work. It was just that plain and simple. And while we're not using pencils much these days, the test still holds true. Does it fit when reduced to an icon on Facebook? Can it work as an app? A bookmark for your website? And while the medium is always changing, some things don't. Thanks Scott for continuing to be such a great teacher.

Yesterday it happened

I was reading an article on-line, and the article took me to a website. Where I saw something all to familiar. A logo that looked like another business that I go to. Sure, I probably notice these things more than most. After all, it is my business. But it's something that everyone in marketing/branding/design is all to familiar with. Stock. Stock photography. Stock logos. Stock websites. While the goal of marketing a business is to understand what makes a business unique, what value it brings to their clients with their product and services, what does it say when your mark, your single most important symbol of your business, is the same as someone else? Worse, what happens when that business is the same. Two floral businesses with the same logo, two shoe stores, two coffee shops? You get the idea. How can we tell one from the other? It's something to think about. And why you sure hire a professional. Because stock (anything) is just that. Stock, which means of the common or ordinary type. And what business wants to be ordinary?

Fine tuning

I've noticed I'm tuning out a lot lately. To the noise, all those distractions, the television. Or maybe it's more that I'm tuning in. But this summer I've been very busy. Work and family are always first priority. Fun seems to take a back seat. Time seems to be a luxury that I don't have at the moment. And so I've become hyper aware. Of what I'm doing, who I'm doing it with. I'm reading more. Watching tv less. Trashing emails promoting the next sale or class I can't live without. Because I can. And want to. It's a cautionary tale. For those in marketing, always trying to get someone's attention. But to many emails from the same company, to many specials, and it becomes noise. So I say with caution, watch what you send. Because I think we all need a little break.

Judgemental

As a designer, it's hard not to be judgmental. I see an ad, packaging, a business card, poster, and I have an opinion. I can't go someplace and immediately not be influenced by what's around me. I take it all in, and I critique. Why did they do that? How much did that cost them? Who signed off on this idea? I think about who their market was/is and if they nailed it, or really failed big time. And I wonder who else is doing this? Are you seeing things and judging? Maybe not in a conscious way, but unconsciously? Are you walking into a beautiful office and thinking this is beautiful, or now I know why the charge so much. Do you see a business card that's flimsy and immediately form and opinion about the giver? Do you see someone in a beautiful suit and think they must be important? Or a lawyer....
It's a toss up. We all have our things. No judging.

My seven year old googles and doesn't have a land line

Last week there was a fantastic article about nostalgia in marketing. However, it was about recreating nostalgia. Which has a market, but for how long? My daughter is growing up in a completely different time. She understands and knows how to use google. She's never had a land line phone. She doesn't know what a fax machine is, let alone a beeper. It makes me wonder what will be considered nostalgic when she's my age? What will going back to her roots mean? (a 2012 ipad?)

As someone who loves antiques, I see the value of something older. Worn. With a history and a story. Maybe that's why we live in a brick bungalow. And I love to garden. Because I want her to have something real and lasting. Not made to look real.