what's in a logo? a lot

By now you've all heard about the recent Gap logo brouhaha, in which the purveyors of inexpensive office duds revealed their new corporate marker to a fury so loud, they were forced to recant and issue a big, public "never mind." For what it's worth, I think it was the right decision: While their logo isn't one of my favorites, the new one was awful. But more importantly, the new logo had nothing whatsoever to do with their old one, which had come to be known and trusted by shoppers everywhere.

Some have argued recently that logos don't matter anymore, but I strongly disagree. If that were the case, then why does the image of a U.S. flag awash in logos conjure sentiments of outrage? Why is this taxonomy of species so powerful? And why did Logorama win best animated short at the Oscars this year?

Of course, many successful companies periodically update their logos as a way to refresh their image or reflect a new line of thinking. But my opinion is that unless you're changing the entire gist of your offerings, the best redesigned logos don't completely start over; they instead build on the existing design so that the public can still identify the brand. When Gap decided in the mid-90s to ditch Banana Republic's safari/travel theme and go after the "casual luxury" clothing market, the resulting logo redesign made a lot of sense. But Gap's change this year was just dumb. It reminded me of the decision that New York City-based pharmacy chain Duane Reade made a few years ago—only this time, the parent company realized the error (albeit after severe public excoriation) and wisdom prevailed. ∞

meatball vs. worm

A couple of years ago I wrote a short piece on the history of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration's logo. This weekend, The New York Times featured their own discussion on the subject in their Men's Fashion special magazine. Here's a quick recap: In 1959, NASA started out with its Insignia, nicknamed "the meatball" (top). A couple of decades later, the agency revamped their image with the slick Logotype, better know as "the worm" (bottom). But then in 1992, in an effort to revive their image of their Apollo glory days, NASA decided to bring back the meatball, which is today the administration's official symbol (they also have a separate seal, which is used mostly for internal and ceremonial purposes).

The Times added some curious tidbits to the discussion, but what I found noteworthy was what they didn't mention. Of particular interest was that they neglected to point out—as I did in my piece [subscription required]—that the meatball was and is a royal pain in the butt for designers. For one thing, the official colors don't reproduce well on printed materials. And for another, the tiny stars are really hard to see in certain contexts. As a result, NASA has its own special page dedicated to directing graphic artists and other media types how to use the meatball properly . . . and improperly.

Okay, so I thought it would be fun to poll you readers are there (if there are any of you left!) to gauge your preference. So what shall it be? Meatball or worm? ∞

an iconic new york logo bites the dust

I read with sadness today that Duane Reade, New York city's largest drugstore chain, has decided to change its iconic red-and-blue logo to a new black-and-white number. Companies change logos all the time in an effort to either reinvent themselves or appear to be "changing with the times." I'm not exactly sure which of these two motivations Duane Reade is following, but I think they need to fire their graphic design firm.

Though I generally get annoyed by red and/or blue logos (since so many companies employ those two colors), the old DR was a nice, compact, recognizable design. The new icon, as critics in this article about the change note, is all over the place. Serif, sans-serif, upper case, lower case—it just feels amateur. The straight edge of the D in particular isn't doing anything for me. And as much as I appreciate the deviation from red and blue, is black really the color you want to represent your drug store?

To be sure, I'm not the only one feeling this way; a brief glance at the comment section for the aforementioned article, and you get the feeling that the powers that be at Duane Reade don't believe in focus groups. In any event, I give the new iteration a D-plus. ∞