Category: Design

Ever wonder what keeps a brand moving forward, day in and day out?

Labels. Duo bands. Aisle interrupters. Mirror clings. Product brochures. Endcap displays. Caddies. Planograms. Holiday promos. Meetings. Product renders. Sell sheets. Calendars. Floor displays. Coupons. Header cards. Store shelf strips. Proof sign-offs. Fact sheets. Hangtags. Ingredient revisions. Ads. Product codes. Point-of-purchase displays. Eight-language product directions. File production. Did I miss any?

These are the regular, frequent tasks of a graphic designer. Not the kind of stuff I’d submit to Communication Arts or even show in my portfolio. But they’re what keeps a brand visible, consistent, and on point.

Where I learned this

I stepped into the design world when analog tools were fading and digital design was still Quark XPress~ly slow. In 2000, I landed my first design job working under a legendary brand designer. He didn’t know how to use a Mac, but he sure knew how to curse anyone waiting for the screen to turn on.

I commuted three hours each way from Pomona to Brentwood just to keep that opportunity. The work was intense and the environment was Mad Men-level chaotic. It was also where I learned to fight for my ideas and to design for real-world production, not just for my portfolio.

The other side of the story

Today we see polished, Insta-perfect brand decks all over the internet. That’s one side of the story. I’m grateful to have a portfolio full of that kind of work, and honestly would love more of it, but most of my career has been built on the bread-and-butter jobs. Brands aren’t out there refreshing every season. So it’s labels, ingredient changes, press checks, hangtags, sell sheets, and duo caddies that support the marketing efforts.

Here’s what I’ve noticed. Launches and rebrands get the attention, but the steady work is what earns trust. When a client knows every proof will be clean, every file will be production-ready, and every change will be handled right the first time, you stop being a vendor and become part of the team. That’s how one-off projects turn into lasting client relationships.

This work may not be glamorous, but it’s essential. It’s kept me in business for over two decades.

If you’ve ever felt “less than” for not posting cool mockups every week, let me tell you: those are just mockups.

The everyday work is the work. And it matters. All of it.

Like our parents, I had kinda gotten to the place where I refused to learn how to use a VCR.

Over the years I have had to let go of many things such as job titles, relationships, friendships, where I lived, and many others but I have never let go of my definition of graphic design. Here’s why that’s no longer working for me.

I graduated high school in 1994 and received my Bachelor’s degree in 2000. I began my design career at the time when Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator were in their early single digit versions, QuarkXPress was the king of layout and our lab computers were beige and referred to as “PowerMacs”. I stored my designs on ZIP drives and always encountered issues at Kinko’s when trying to output a Fiery print (remember those?). I don’t think any of us young designers at that time knew how we were supposed to collect fonts and image links. And it wasn’t like Kinko’s cared to explain, or refund us for the time we were charged.

Fast forward to today and everything has changed, from computing and imaging technology to my personal life. I can’t grow my hair out like I used to, I sport a beard now, I lost both of my parents, I gained a beautiful wife and two spunky daughters, and I even became a Zumba instructor. Whew!

I allowed space for new activities and new clothes to feel new but oddly I kept graphic design old school and rooted in the past. The designers that I admire were born in the ’30s and ’40s. Their print work produced in the ’60s and ’70s became my cornerstones. I produced tactile product packaging, designed brochures with premium paper stocks, embellishments, and multi-folds, and I regularly mocked up boxes with complicated scores and folds to make sure the art panels were oriented in the right fashion. I did what I thought was a continuation of the legacy of design, firmly rooted in something you could hold. And that worked until our experiences became framed through a 9:16 ratio screen.

Everyone’s attention moved to the digital world, and like many older designers, I found myself not adapting quickly enough. And since promoting my work on social wasn’t a skill I’d cultivated in two decades, I started going backwards to a place of comfort.

Where my work used to speak for me, video editing for TikTok and Instagram Reels became the skill I was told I needed to succeed. Show my work, explain my process, demonstrate client metrics, be cringy, but don’t be afraid to be cringy. Graphic design is out. AI can do that. I have to be a Brand Designer. AI can do that. I have life experience, so I have to be a Brand Strategist. Hold on, Claude can now…

I don’t need a single label, or to keep trying to figure it out. The world keeps telling me my title is outdated, but I know that my skills aren’t.

I am a designer, photographer, brand strategist, and an all-around creative person. And I know how to use the VCR.

This was the first design firm that I worked at out of college.

After graduating from Cal State Fullerton I was offered a designer position with Richard C. Runyon Design. Early in his career he worked under the legendary Saul Bass. Forming his own agency in the 70’s he went on to create the original Federal Express, Betty Crocker, Spruce Goose and Hansen logos. By the time I joined the firm in 2000 we were designing ads for China Southern Airlines along with corporate brochures for early startup companies.

Working with Richard was an old school, MadMen experience. The office was filled with cuss words and fights! I would psyche myself up for fifteen minutes before heading into the office to be greeted by a slurry of insults. At one point I called my mom and told her this man has called me every bad name except the n-word.

I stayed and persevered for almost two years. Partly because I didn’t know any better and partly because I had the experience to jump headfirst into some amazing projects. I developed a thick skin and bold attitude about graphic design and my place in the field. He pushed and I shoved back with even better designs.

When I present work I criticize myself first before the client has a chance. It can be the difference between being asked for revisions or being told that they are going in a new direction…without you. That’s what Richard taught me. I searched for him for several years before discovering that shortly after I left his firm that he passed away in a plane crash.

Despite all of the craziness during my time under him I hold those years in very high regard. I’ve held unto this business card for 25 years now. 25 years I’ve been a professional graphic designer.

Thank you.

The simplest design is oftentimes the best. Although they stumbled as a business, Kodak definitely succeeded as a brand. The easily recognizable colors and logo conjure up warm feelings of nostalgia across the world. Think of Canon and Nikon and you might think “professional”. Now think of Kodak. I imagine “fun, film, photo labs, joy, sharing, anticipation, excitement”. 

Despite essentially withdrawing from the camera market, there are enough advocates for Kodak to continually shape its perception as a brand. And that right there is the power of branding.