While nostalgically thinking about the most disappointing packaging I ever encountered under the Christmas tree, one toy sprung to mind: the advertisements for “Super Flight Deck” and an excitingly big box primed me for some serious parent pestering in the mid-seventies. But the dynamic on-pack image fell far short of reality – a tangle of fishing wire, impossible construction instructions, and a rather lame experience once play began.

However, as this blog isn’t “I 1970” what’s my point? Only that it’s amazing how little times have changed in this particular sector. A recent trip to Hamleys was full of the same “artists’ impressions” which promise more than the toy is going to deliver. All decodable to an informed adult eye, but as persuasive to an easily excited nipper as ever. Case in point, this Scalextric pack from Amazon (nice dirt getting kicked up on the image, but an experience unlikely to be replicated on the plastic track). Next to it the box which seduced me back in the day - sharing a similar sense of over promise. Does it matter? Well, life would be dreary if all toys were packaged sans imagination or flair – the box was half the fun. I suppose being let down by a product which does not deliver on the packaging promise is a sad little lesson best learned early…but it’s surprising that while we hear much about advertising standards in such communication, the reality seems so little changed.

Charm, it would seem, is often the first casualty of a redesign. The vintage Listerine pack above got plenty of misty eyed praise on The Dieline this week from packaging aficionados wishing it was still the pack they reached for in their bathroom. It’s a strange truth of packaging that the more efficient production lines and the like become, the less idiosyncrasy and beauty we get to enjoy in our brands. They probably couldn’t efficiently produce this pack again even if they wanted to.

Meanwhile the Carmex brand has redesigned from the one below left, to the one right. A bit of online searching suggests this might be to bring the design in line with a global look and feel, and the new look is itself quite retro. But against the original it has lost the convincing and distinctive pharmacy feel which always made this small purchase feel a little bit special. Updating and rationalising brands has its place, but once you kill a piece of your heritage off, it rarely comes back (Swan matches are a notable exception, also below). And of course the Coke classic bottle is rarely seen outside of advertising, but has been prudently kept alive for just this purpose. Update and upgrade at your peril, lest future generations wonder why you lost the plot.

Or click here to watch

At the end of a year which has featured so many brands recycling archive advertising to bolster their status as “one of the family”, these great ad breaks from Schweppes subvert the clichés. The lo-fi production values imbue a charm which lets the actual humour be quite edgy. They really make me smile, but I think they also offer a great example of how plundered vintage communication can be made really contemporary if a little imagination is thrown into the mix. Progressive retro indeed.

This month marks the thirtieth anniversary of the release of Alien. It was a film with incredibly innovative and imaginative production design, but how has its vision of the future held up so well, when such design often looks unintentionally comical decades on? Obviously, HR Geiger’s designs for the monsters and alien spacecraft (above) are idiosyncratic nightmare visions which are fundamentally timeless. And the (for the time groundbreaking) notion of portraying a spaceship as a rusty oil rig in space, rather than something white and shiny, set the template for many imitators. But perhaps it’s what the designers chose not to do which has given the film such visual longevity…

I read all the books about the film as a nerdy teenager and one explanation about the design process has stuck with me: the production team looked at every aspect of the astronauts’ lives, from their shoelaces to their cutlery, and attempted to create futuristic versions of these everyday objects. But attempts to update drinking vessels were rejected - square edged beakers don’t fit the contours of the mouth. The design team recognised that some things are as they are for good reason and cannot be improved with restyling. This “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” approach might fly in the face of the questioning nature found in innovators like James Dyson, but it might offer one reason why this attempt to imagine the future has stood the test of time. Form follows function is an evergreen concept, and one worth following when aiming to contemporise any product styling.

Today marks the 250th anniversary of Arthur Guinness signing the lease on his Dublin brewery. And at one minute to six (1759, the year in question) this evening, around the world, Guinness are kicking off music events and celebrations to mark the date.

Yesterday on the blog we were downcast at the amount of brands wallowing in nostalgia rather than looking to the future. But this is no mere backwards look – the iconography for the event has a fresh contemporary feel, and the celebrations have an eye on the brand’s future rather than its glorious past. For example, along with the partying, a charitable fund is being set up by the brand worth £5m to empower individuals to better their communities.

Guinness 250 Anniversary from jones knowles ritchie on Vimeo.

The identity for the event itself has some really nice versions such as this screen saver by Red Urban agency (see above). We don’t use our blog to promote jkr work, because we aren’t trying to sell anything here, but to be transparent, The Greenspace created the logo, and we have been responsible for the off-pack manifestation with the flexible wave of dots, which has itself been adopted and applied by many local agencies.

Above is the press campaign created by Saatchi X, and below is the ad campaign by
Saatchi & Saatchi.

jkr designed a celebration stout for the year…

And, while not a specific part of the anniversary celebrations, the Guinness Draught in can has also been redesigned by jkr, aiming to make it a more powerful badge in the drinker’s hand:

So apologies if today we appear to be patting ourselves on the back – the truth is that many agencies and markets all over the world have played a role in making today significant for the brand, and that’s the remarkable story we wanted to share…

Greyhound Bus is opening its doors for passengers in the UK. The pitch is that while prices will be low, Greyhound will focus on communicating its wi-fi, power sockets and air conditioning. In a nod to the American heritage, the coaches will have names like Peggy Sue and Jolene. Perhaps they are adding these names because the bus livery itself fails to measure up to the Greyhound Bus in the mind’s eye. Countless movies (Midnight Cowboy is the obvious one) have featured Greyhounds. As such, the distinctive ribbed silver bodywork has come to represent a slice of classic Americana every bit the match of Zippo lighters, Fender Guitars and Levi’s jeans.

Coming into the UK, Greyhound should have had little trouble out-cooling easy Bus and Mega Bus. Unfortunately the designs follow the revamped livery now used in the States – it’s blandly modern, less iconic and altogether more visually nondescript. While of course we want to ride in an up to date coach, and any branding is probably limited to a paint job on a regular vehicle, this feels like a missed opportunity – Coke Classic shows how a brand can be modern and true to its visual roots at the same time. The product offer might be fabulous, but for anyone who ever listened to Simon and Garfunkel singing about “going off to look for America on a Greyhound”, the design lacks the romance we might have been dreaming of.

Every now and then your supermarket sleepwalk is disturbed by a pack which simply intrigues you – and relevance be damned, if it’s novel enough you might just sling it in the basket. The retro pack for Quaker Oats prompted me to pick it up (it stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the glossy and samey competition), but it made me wonder if straight forward plundering of the past is the smartest way to play the retro card?

The pack’s a facsimile of original branding but it’s not going to win any retro beauty prizes, as the original’s core elements are more authentic than attractive. The provenance and design are also in a less cosy vein than, say, the Persil vintage ads, so heartstrings will probably be less tugged. Is the idea to alert us to a brand unspoilt by progress? Possibly, and one could understand why Quaker might want to yank back a few authenticity points from relative pups such as Dorset and Jordan’s. So I bought the pack, but wonder, for all the novelty, is it the smartest way to make the brand’s history relevant for today?

Meanwhile, over in the states, Quaker are running the campaign “go humans go”* aimed at promoting the idea that their oats offer goodness at good value. The promotion is also committed to helping kids who would otherwise miss out on a proper breakfast get a good start to the day. The spirit of this approach feels truer to the brand’s supposed Quaker inspiration; the design is fresh and appealing, whilst trading on the famous brand iconography, and “go humans go” is just a really positive sentiment for these troubled times. For me, being inspired by the past and carrying this spirit into contemporary expression feels much more engaging than simply raiding the visual piggy bank.

*by the way, “humans” not “people” - is this odd choice of words just designed to snag in the mind, or is this a tip of the logo’s hat to the principles of humanism?

Back in March, Nestlé trumpeted their new “Kansei” approach to branding (drawn from Japanese philosophy, it folded consumer feelings into the design process). It was heralded with the latest design for the Black Magic chocolate brand. Now it appears that the brand is to get the (seemingly industry standard) retro refit for the rather un-oriental reason that consumers have an affection for the old look. Under the circumstances, making smart alec observations is just too easy. The latest development feels like a disappointing step backwards, both for a pioneering approach and for the actual pack. Kansei notwithstanding, the “new” pack looked quite sharp, while the “retro-classic” pack in contrast looks creaky.

Marketers are understandably not that fixated with how good design is actually produced, but on the other hand packaging up the design process with a sexy name can be a seductive way of suggesting that here, at last, is a deeper and possibly more effective way to produce work. It plays to marketers’ rational comfort zone, and suggests that everything is done for a methodical reason. But when something as prosaic as “they liked the old box” upsets the design philosophy apple cart, it drags us right back to the “chuck it at the wall and see what sticks” school of thinking. Perhaps we agencies should focus more on the results of our labours, rather than touting the processes that create them. Either way, let’s hope Nestlé keep pursuing new things, but as someone clever once said “It’s a bad idea to shine light on magic”.

Ten years ago it would be obvious which of the above designs was the ‘after’ one. Packaging design was often about adding a sheen of modernity to basic brands. Now the designer’s role is reversed, and we are often briefed to take things back to ‘authentic’ basics. In Cadbury Fudge’s case fair enough – the new vintage design taps into memories of the conker playing kids from the advert and the typography almost sings the famous jingle in one’s head. But 2009, when economic crisis might have inspired bold progressive design (as the eighties enjoyed) seems to be fluffing it – we risk being remembered as the era that only looked backwards. Instead of living in a golden age we are perhaps lazily focussed on re-creating one, and it feels short sighted: little dates faster than nostalgia.

T. G. Green and Co, original makers of “Cornishware” crockery have been rescued from receivership by an entrepreneurial devotee of the product. The brand actually originated in Derbyshire, but was so named as the distinctive blue and white stripes called to mind for one employee the white tipped waves of Cornwall – an inspired choice of name. But despite the predictable claim to be iconic, the new owners are presented with a problem – outside of crockery connoisseurs, surely the platter is so easy to imitate that it must now be a rather generic product.

However, the re-launch makes little attempt to “do a mini” and update the brand’s image. Rather it is re-presenting the classic designs in straightforward as you like packaging (“useful for keeping cufflinks in”) with the original hallmark well placed to the fore. In other words, by changing as little as possible, the re-launch makes a good first of tugging on the purse strings by appealing to our inner snobs. The humble hallmark is often underrated in our more marketing savvy days of “mindshare” and “brand architectures”, but here is proof that sometimes the most convincing re-designs do as little as humanly possible…