You might have seen this Corona billboard this week. It drew a crowd in Manhattan and is a good example of visual wit. (If you can’t see it, the lime is made from the real moon, aligned with the position of the billboard.) I’m working on a brand right now who want to be seen as ‘witty’. As someone who has been trying to produce witty work off and on across a career, I subscribe to the adage; ‘don’t tell me you’re funny, tell me a joke.’ However, I thought it might be worth figuring out what the mechanics of wit are. For me, the standard text is A Smile in the Mind. It’s a great book and here I break down what its brilliant introduction tells us. I found it really useful, perhaps you will too…

The piece begins with a couple of great Dorothy Parker lines: ‘Brevity is the soul of lingerie’ and ‘One more drink and I’d have been under the host’. What Parker is doing here is taking a familiar phrase and playing with it to offer a surprising new slant. That’s wit. And essentially it is the same methodology that creates visual puns. They take something we know, give it a playful twist and let us see something familiar through fresh eyes. It’s that simple (like all the best design principles).

Having absorbed this ‘nuts and bolts of wit’ definition yesterday, I then saw the above – one of a new set of posters going up on Buenos Aires street corners from the Argentine Prostitutes’ Association. They highlight the reality that 87% of the countries sex workers are single mothers. The aim is to raise awareness of marginalised people and work towards getting them better rights and conditions. They get their message across with wit – we are familiar with the cliché of women on street corners and here it is being playfully subverted. Just as we are familiar with the concept of a slice of lime in a Corona, which again has been playfully subverted. It’s a great rule of thumb, but of course it has some intricate mechanisms: it’s about finding the right balance of the familiar and the unexpected – the relationship between recognition and surprise. It’s about not telegraphing the answer, but leaving something to be discovered. This can sometimes be a challenge with clients who want it ‘all spelt out’ with no risk of ambiguity.

Whimsy aside, what are the commercial benefits of using visual wit? Well, in a busy world it can make us pause for a moment, intriguing us as we figure out the gag. Time we typically don’t give messaging. It invites participation, beginning a dialogue the audience completes. Which can make the otherwise forgettable memorable. It gives pleasure in the decoding and can make the otherwise functional into something charming. All hard nosed reasons why sometimes design playfulness can be very good for business. That’s why a bunch of people gathered around the Corona poster and it’s gone viral. That’s why I won’t forget the statistic about single mothers working a harsh job in Argentina.

The Economist is even more economical with words than it is pictures. It tackles the biggest, most complex subjects and makes them accessible and meaningful within a strict word count. Moreover it does so with a clearly defined and consistent tone of voice. Although many hands write The Economist, each article shares the same precision and understated, dry wit.

The Economist preserves the anonymity of its writers because it believes that what is written is more important than who writes it. Consequently, the editor’s only signed article is written on their departure from the position – a healthy reminder that the brand is bigger than the individual.

By James Joice, client director, jkr

Is it art or design? That’s the question D&AD judges debated, first rejecting Sagmeister & Walsh’s film Now is better for being art, then reinstating it and awarding it a Yellow Pencil for typography. Creative Review has the full story.

Does it matter? For judges and winners, probably. For the rest of us, perhaps less so. One could argue that D&AD gives out so many awards these days that it’s not quite the Everest it once was. Neither is Everest mind you and many of us have not climbed that either.

For the judges the debate turned on their definition of a valid entry which must be: ‘a work of advertising or design, produced in response to a genuine brief composed in the ordinary course of a legal entity’s activities for the purpose of seeking an advertising or design solution.’ This piece answered those criteria it seems.

Meanwhile, things generally seem to be loosening up. There has been some chatter over David Shrigley, for some a ‘mere’ cartoonist, being nominated for a Turner prize (above and below). Here I guess the traffic is heading in the other direction, finding some are still keen on erecting barriers.

I think what defines design is pretty easy to pin down – flip open the Oxford English Dictionary and it’s pretty much there. What defines art is a bit more debatable. Here are a couple of lines of thought from the fantastic Brain Pickings site…

Perhaps weighing in for Sagmeister is Charles Eames: ‘Art resides in the quality of doing; process is not magic.’

Perhaps explaining why there was a debate at all is André Gide: ‘Art begins with resistance — at the point where resistance is overcome. No human masterpiece has ever been created without great labour.’

Perhaps suggesting design is by definition not a club you want to join anyway is Steven Pressfield: ‘To labor in the arts for any reason other than love is prostitution.’

For me, I think it’s becoming increasingly less relevant to make distinctions in the first place. In a ‘transmedia’ era perhaps all the best work will operate across art and the more ‘outcome orientated’ world of design. I like design that has a bit of poetry. I like art to have a bit of purpose.

I went to George Bernard Shaw’s house yesterday. Hanging on the wall was this stunning drawing by Aubrey Beardsley. Great art.

It was the original from this poster, which is pretty good design. For me this says something about the blurred lines that happily exist between the two. Unless you are a judge the question isn’t really about what something is. It’s about if it’s any good.

This week we have mostly been using a new buzzword – ‘skeuomorphic’ – as a result of Apple unveiling its new iOs 7. Much of the interest in the design world has focused on the redesign of the interface and apps.

Apple invented the bevel edged, high gloss hyper real detailing that characterised its apps; a style that quickly became absorbed by the competition and transmuted into an industry design standard. But with iOs 7, they have moved to a simpler and perhaps braver styling and in so doing, they have apparently parted ways with skeuormorphic design.

Skueomorphism is the styling of a physical ornament or design to make it resemble another material or object. Making something look like something it’s not. It’s an idea that’s as old as the hills and of course pre-dates the iPhone, but it was a notion at the heart of the Apple design philosophy; a reflection of Steve Job’s belief that technology interfaces should be intuitive enough for everyone to use. There’s a great article about it on the BBC here.

This week, however, Jonathan Ive’s team have dragged that design aesthetic into the trash can, as it were. The new interface is bolder and less fussy. Everything’s flat, not beveled. It seems like Apple’s catching up with a trend that’s already been embraced by some other big players. Coca-Cola, for instance, finally found confidence in their own brand marque when they stopped embellishing it with extra swooshes, bubbles and gradients.

I guess the benefit of skeuomorphic design is that it helps us understand things that are new to us, by borrowing a visual language we already understand. The envelope device is visual shorthand for email, our contacts app looks like a rolodex or a ring binder. A colleague pointed out that when radios were first invented, they were designed to look like elegant sideboards. Once we’d become familiar enough with the technology, they were able to evolve their own styling, unfettered by the rules of an inherited design language.

So are skeuomorphs a lazy visual shorthand, or are they a necessary bridge to transport our understanding from something familiar to something completely new? I guess that they help us make sense of something new, but after a while they outgrow their purpose, becoming as mysterious as the service or object they were designed to describe in the first place. What yoof of today is going to know where this symbol came from?

From a design perspective, Apple’s redesign seems to echo a broader design trend (‘flat design’), based on a simple distillation of elements to the functional rather than the decorative. A trend that Windows 8 got caught up in, and we know what happened then…

By Katie Ewer, Strategic Planner, jkr Singapore

No doubt the security scandal around Prism has plenty of important ramifications. But from a design point of view, what was eye opening was the sheer awfulness of the ppt document in question. Not exactly like the work of a super amazing security organisation as depicted by Hollywood is it? More like a regional sales manager’s crib notes.

There are some 500 million ppt users in the world. That’s a lot of potentially dreary presentations. But as software it gets where water can’t. Why? I guess because of its convenience – it offers users the ability to ‘bung it all on there’ rather than remembering and presenting a succinct and compelling script.

In agency land we managed very well before it. We sat down, had a chat and pulled out the work we had set up with a few choice words. But like any crutch, ppt lured us all in. Of course, the general swing now is to funkier presentation methods – giant books, or posters, or props, or once again simple conversation. Anything that can breathe life back into a room. Yet it’s a poor workman who blames his tools and at essence, ppt is a great tool. Used as a slideshow it can be inspiring and illuminating. At this level it’s simply the digital equivalent of what Don Draper pulled off pitching to Kodak.

From a design perspective it’s a case of less is more. Fewer words. Less slides. Less points. Careful not incontinent curation of the images used. And you don’t need to be Dom to pull off something memorable.

But looking at the crappy ppt done by Prism did make me wonder how far backwards we have travelled. The illuminated manuscripts of antiquity carry knowledge and beauty and intrinsic value. They come from a time when we moved at the speed of a horse, not an airliner. We need our documents designed to a far faster speed of life now. But these documents had value – they were treasured, protected, passed down. Can that be said for any of the work produced by those 500 million ppt users this Thursday?

Lets face it; it’s a stupidly impractical suggestion to propose that ppt be thrown over for benches of hard working scribes. But if images are devised to enhance and illuminate powerfully crafted words expressing a significant point, then perhaps by ‘thinking like a medieval monk’ we might reach for contemporary greatness…

I attended an interesting D&AD White Pencil event yesterday on the relationship between sustainability and creativity. I would observe that there has been a slight shift in this relationship, for the potential better. Broadly, companies and brands are less looking for creatives to offer solutions and more calling for them to offer ideas. Thoughts that can turn the worthy but dull into the engaging and enjoyable. I think this plays to what we are good at – the art of making the possible into the irresistible. This is a shift from a couple of years back where ‘ideation sessions’ run out of marketing departments got knocked back by ‘the line’, who were not properly engaged with the idea in the first place. Our job, arguably, is adding the style on top of the substance but without it, little will change.

‘Why’ was spelt out by Unilever CMO Keith Weed who very pragmatically observed that for all the great work Unilever are doing, it’s but a drop in the ocean if it doesn’t engage with the billions of consumers and motivate them to want to change their behaviours. As he explained, it’s easy where the benefit is obvious (a hand wash formula for the developing world that reduces rinsing and saves water also saves consumers money, effort etc.) but more challenging where the consumer benefit is less clear. How do you find and express a motivating benefit in something which on the face of it is just boring? Or worse, ‘it’s tough to motivate people towards a negative message’ as he put it.

I think one design angle here is in creating ‘remarkable’ packaging. Because if personal recommendation and social media are the true way to popularise a sustainable living  initiative then the core design has to be, quite literally, remarkable. In a good way! Sustainability initiatives are good for business if the end result can be better to experience and cheaper to produce than the current norm. Easier said than done, but that’s why creative ideas are important.

DDB talked to a similar theme of making the boring motivating in their ‘Fun Theory’. Here’s a film from it…

There were those on the day who were pragmatic about the task in hand, and those who were almost spiritual. There’s room for both camps I think. Neither was cynical. But I liked the paradox in Keith Weed’s perspective. On the one hand he sees real success as only possible by joining up with and engaging others – competitors, governments, the world’s population. Yet he is also realistic about what REALLY motivates his consumers: ‘We would like our brands to be known and loved for what they are…Ben & Jerry’s stands for really nice ice cream.’ So at best he hopes the Unilever logo on the back of the pack will become a kitemark of trust – that by 2020 it will be symbolising the fact that ‘we work harder than anybody else’ to make sustainable living commonplace. An ambition both modest and massive.

Meanwhile, what a privilege it is to be in ‘the creative industries’ where our ideas can potentially help save the world (as well as, you know, shift more stuff…). And doing this by accenting the positive? Not a bad way to spend one’s creative energy.

Can people be part of a brand’s visual identity? The ‘Singapore Girl’, brand icon of Singapore Airlines since 1972, would suggest they can.

Part of great branding is defining a unique and ownable visual asset and celebrating it consistently. Singapore Airlines has done so for over four decades, showing unswerving faith in the immensely powerful and almost mythical allure of their brand emblem. The Singapore Girl, created by local Singapore ad agency Batey in the1960s, isn’t just part of the brand – she is the brand. A symbol of Asian hospitality and feminine grace and elegance. Through accusations of sexism, she has nevertheless endured for decades as a representation not just of the airline, but of Singapore itself.

Singapore Girls, with their distinctive ‘sarong kabaya’ uniform (inspired by traditional Indonesian batik and styled by Pierre Balmain) look pretty much the same as they did in the 1960s. Compared to major competitors, whose cabin crew regularly sport freshly redesigned uniforms that are updated to reflect the sensibilities of a particular era, the sarong kabaya seems timeless. In fact, timelessness is one of the things this brand does best. When the Head of Marketing at Singapore Airlines was asked in an interview two years ago about plans to update the Singapore Girl, his response was this: ‘What’s there to update? She’s eternal.’ Indeed she is – she’s the only representation of a business to have a waxwork model in Madame Tussauds, London.

Singapore Airlines isn’t just about pretty girls who follow the regulations on lipstick tone, however. The airline has substance as well as style: the first to fly the A380, the widest seats in business class, the only airline to offer double beds in its ‘above first class’ suites. The brand looks not within its own industry for inspiration but beyond – at the hospitality sector, at leading resorts and spas, at destinations. Singapore Airlines consulted with a luxury yacht designer to create their Suites concept, proving that a little lateral thinking can create something truly unique.

But perhaps the biggest lesson we can take from the success of this Asian giant is in the power of emotional branding. Singapore Airlines might have the biggest seats and the most luxurious cabins, but that’s not what they sell their brand on. This airline was a pioneer in elevating magic above logic and has continued to champion an emotional bond with its consumers in a market where the convention is to sell on price or on aircraft features. The Singapore Girl, symbol of gentle Asian hospitality, promises a return to the romance of travel that we lost long ago.

By Katie Ewer, strategic planner, jkr Singapore

We don’t normally run ‘isn’t this cool?’ pieces. But this is only up for a day and it would be a shame to miss it. Click on the Google homepage logo today to see a celebration of Maurice Sendak (he would have been eighty-five today). Click again and enjoy the animation. My Mum used to work in the Beatrix Potter Museum in Hawkshead. He came in once. He was a ‘lovely gentleman’ according to mum.

As we say, it’s pretty cool. It conceivably passes on all your private data to the CIA, but hey, it looks fun.

As Lincoln put it: ‘You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.’

The Guardian reports on how Marlboro are adding coupon sized leaflets to their packaging that links to Know More – an online campaign aimed at preserving ‘smokers’ rights’ in the UK. It’s a pretty bold move, but given that we are expecting legislation to de-brand cigarette packaging (see above), their back is to some degree against the wall. You will be the judge on the morals of the issue. What I find interesting is how rare it is for a brand and its packaging to declare a view that is anything more than the blandest of vanilla. Here is an example of a major brand showing its teeth.

The screen grab above shows the website – in common with the coupons, it’s no oil painting – perhaps the artless feel is itself a crafty bit of ‘anti-design’. Or it might just be a bit rubbish. Whatever, it did make me wonder why so few brands break cover to say something interesting (if polarising) through their packaging. We forever hear about ‘brand archetypes’ but such characters in the original myths and stories tended to have bold personalities – and set themselves up against nemesis. This isn’t the same as writing some twee copy about one’s sustainability initiative in a humble brag manner.

Advertising seems to have less issue packing a punch. Consider this lifebuoy ad, which put a lump in my throat. So why can’t pack design, which reaches a potentially far greater audience, be better exploited?

The exception to this rule from a mainstream brand which sticks in my mind is the Ben & Jerry’s line celebrating Vermont’s legislation on same sex marriage. It ran a couple of years back and seems to have done them no harm. Hopefully, quite the opposite. Yet it’s really hard to think of many other brands willing to stick their necks out just a little. Brands operate in the real world. The ones with opinions. And emotions. Not always vanilla ones. Given the efforts put in everyday by brands to be engaging, isn’t it a little curious that so few stand out by really standing for (or against) something? Or do brands typically find themselves hardwired to try and please all of the people, all of the time?

We say that one of the objectives of great design is to allow brands to get noticed and chosen. In the brutally competitive arena of the supermarket shelf, packs live or die on whether their design achieves that goal. But getting noticed and chosen isn’t all a pack needs to do, because packs live beyond the supermarket – they get taken to the checkout, put in a bag and taken home. We have a duty to consider the full life cycle of packaging in terms of how we interact with it – not just during ‘the first moment of truth’, but beyond.

If the moment of choice is the first moment of truth, then perhaps we could suggest what the subsequent moments might be? Here’s my proposal:

Second moment of truth: Transportation.

Getting the pack home again in a seamless, pain-free, hassle-free way. Not everything goes in plastic bags, so thinking about the journey between point of purchase and final destination can really matter. Thought-through ergonomics, portability and efficient use of space all count. The other day while on a trip to the supermarket to purchase a bumper pack of nappies (‘cause I’m just kinda rock ‘n’ roll like that), I was frustrated to find the brand available didn’t have the usual loop of plastic at the end. Make my life difficult and I’m unlikely to choose you again.

Third moment of truth: In the home.

We all know the usual suspects here: milk cartons that tear the wrong way, jars that can’t be opened by arthritic hands, bottles that won’t pour or bags that can’t be re-sealed. But there’s another type of demand for some specific kinds of packaging – the kind that is required to fulfill not just a functional need of ‘holding product’, but one that also is on display in the home.

I’m thinking of course of tissue boxes; a product that needs to be close to hand at all times and is therefore always on display. And yet, it’s almost always unappealing in its aesthetic. I guess that’s why crochet tissue boxes were created by inventive old ladies. I for one do struggle to find something that will look good on the bookshelf. Kleenex have had some success with this, most recently with their kids’ nursery packs.

Also recently, Huggies came out with these baby wipe boxes. The idea is that you tear off the Huggies branding strip at the top when you get home and you’re left with something that looks half decent (provided you like the pattern that’s used). Does it feel branded enough or is it somewhat apologetic? Could Huggies try and create a pattern that somehow feels more ‘joined up’ with its brand world, or is it completely irrelevant? Perhaps, after you’ve noticed and chosen it, the branding’s done the job and can take a back seat in the home?

Perhaps we could all afford to relax the rules a little for the third moment of truth, and start to think about how the needs of packaging on the supermarket shelf are not the same as those on the bookshelf.

Oh, and have a bit more fun with tissue paper boxes…

By Katie Ewer, strategic planner, jkr Singapore