In the last episode, we talked about what a brand is and how to define it. Today we will follow up on that more practically. We divided the process into a content and a design part. So let's break down what it looks like in practice when I start working on the first, content part.

The whole thing stems from the things we've already talked about—that is, the company's story, whether it's the existing one or a future vision. From all of this, what we call the brand archetype is created. According to our methodology, you choose from about twelve archetypes: whether your company is cheerful, serious, whether you are the "Ruler," the "Explorer," the "Adventurer," and so on.

When you list it like that, it sounds almost comical. I can completely imagine the board, with all those managers sitting there in suits, and we tell them: "Well, are you a comical company, or a ruler company?" It must be difficult for them.

That's true, it's difficult, but it can be worked with. You must not overdo it with those boxes, but when managers understand what it is good for, it starts to make sense. These archetypes serve to set the first basic boundaries for all the creatives who will subsequently work on the brand. You won't build a brand without creative input, but the process must have rules.

I understand. So a playful company simply won't get a black logo with a blue lightning bolt because it doesn't fit them.

Exactly. We call these definitions "brand homework." They must take place exclusively with the client, on that board, without external creative input. Only when this is done do the creatives step in. My experience says that if you don't have these things clearly defined, the creatives will "steal" the brand from you.

I know that from the creative part. Many times I come somewhere and get the brief: "Do something." That's the worst possible option. I then say "yes," of course, but I immediately add: "Let's figure out how together, because it is your brand, you are paying for it, and you will be living in it." I can give you fifty ideas, but without context, they will be useless to you.

That's exactly how it works. The designer will do it—if they are at least somewhat good, they will start asking who you are and what you do. Then the web developer comes, who asks about the structure of the website: is it about sales, knowledge, or mood? Then a photographer comes, a filmmaker... and everyone does it a little bit their own way.

Well, that's exactly why it is most important to have these aspects defined right at the beginning. Because if you don't, what happens is that every output will be completely different and the result will look tragic.

It will look tragic not only from an aesthetic point of view, but mainly from a financial one. Two situations will occur: the company's communication will be absolutely inconsistent, which in our field means a loss of credibility. We want to be a credible partner for the client for five years or more. But if a colorful panda pops up on my website once and something completely different the next time, people become uncertain. They'll say: "Something here is not under control." And no one wants to cooperate with someone who doesn't even have their own identity under control.

That is worth engraving! In short, let everyone do what they do best.

That is the best thing that can happen. You must manage the brand and give the creatives a clear playing field. Only then can something with a head and a tail emerge.