Lord & Taylor's Logo Disaster
And on the seventh day, the creative team rested. [Genesis 2:2]
As they did on the sixth day.
And fifth day.
And fourth and third and second and first.
Because the marketing geniuses who created the new logo for Lord & Taylor clearly never put a day's worth of work into it.
The brand identity overhaul recently designed for the oldest luxury department store in North America looks, well, just that.
Have a look for yourself:
I would have loved to have been a proverbial fly on the wall in that opulent boardroom to see how it all went down. Just imagine. The stuffy suits on one side of the table, the cool creatives on the other. A geeky Apple aficionado sporting Warby Parker spectacles and TOMS loafers paces in front of a pristine whiteboard, pointy marker in one hand and spiky ego in the other.
Greetings are exchanged and cologne-cloaked executives smile uncertainly at one another. Armani neckties are loosened; gleaming Rolex wristwatches are casually adjusted; glass bottles of Perrier are poured for all. Somebody's brand is about to get soaked.
The conversation begins about how an updated brand identity for Lord & Taylor will usher in a new era of peace, prosperity and profits. A stuffed chicken in every pot and a white Lexus in every garage. It continues with how Lord & Taylor will faithfully pillage and plunder from the snooty masses of American Express Centurion cardholders. About how the privileged 1 percent — along with their growing, glowing offspring — will loyally trek across crowded mall parking lots to obtain a yearly fix of mink coats, designer sunglasses and snakeskin handbags from the local Lord & Taylor.
All the right buzzwords were proudly proclaimed with gusto and enthusiasm.
A logo that looks like it was written by my wife on a brown paper lunch bag … with a Sharpie marker. And it was done, judging from the haphazard angle, on a groggy Monday morning. Which means my olfactory receptors will be celebrating National Tuna Fish Sandwich Day.
Small wonder why Adam and Eve had no clothes when the world was created: they thought Lord & Taylor sold homemade tuna melts.
I know I'm not alone in my opinion. There are thousands of other marketing freaks like me who share these sober sentiments of a classic Johnny Carson logo turned Miley Cyrus. Here are some of the best hand-pulled, wholly organic, fully infuriating quotes I've lovingly culled from ethically responsible social media forums:
"If buying label sheets at Staples and printing them out on your inkjet doesn't scream high-end, then I don't know what does anymore!"
"The old logo was bad, but it had that ‘you don't get me, because you are not worthy’ attitude. The new one looks like a yellow Post-It note left in the office fridge."
"Combined with the (severely unoriginal) 90s throwback styling here, it screams F.R.I.E.N.D.S."
"It looks like a classic ‘Trace Button’ job. Someone scanned in the existing logo, hit 'trace' in Illustrator, and then never looked at it again. No refinement, no cleanup, no effort."
"This looks like someone gathered the board in a conference room and said 'millennial, millennial, millennial,' until they gave in and approved the new logo."
To put it eloquently? The new logo stinks.
As to how the folks at Lord & Taylor actually let this poor excuse of a logo see the light of day … and saw that the light was good? [Genesis 1:3]
Abraham Bree is the marketing director of Ptex Group, a branding and marketing agency.