Navigating a snowstorm of logos

We often say the name is the one thing that shouldn’t change. At the same time, we expect most other brand elements to change over time—brands evolve, logos change, typography gets updated, art direction shifts—but generally, we presume that they stay the same for a while. And it’s usually just one logo, or a small handful of wordmarks and logomarks that are in use at one time.

What if that’s not the case? I’m old enough to remember a time in the early 2000s when Burton Snowboards had dozens if not a couple hundred logos. 

This approach borders on illustration, and one logo might be used for a collection of boards or apparel, taking the Burton brand in varied directions: sometimes rock ‘n’ roll, other times raver or punk or disco or grunge. Something for, just about, everyone which is usually a recipe for disaster. 

This approach can, and maybe did, become chaotic—there’s a lack of cohesion which can be confusing or off-putting for audiences. Like, is this brand really for me when it also looks and feels like a totally different thing? Like someone with multiple personalities, the brand could be a little hard to relate to.

But at the time, I loved it. I still love it. Maybe that’s the nostalgia taking hold, hanging on to a time when I was still figuring out who I was and I could pick and choose which logos, sub-brands, and offshoots of Burton spoke to me. Also, when I could snowboard all day with few breaks (maybe a safety meeting in the woods to “catch our breath”), subsist on pizza and hot dogs, and have zero responsibilities except for being at the bottom of the mountain at closing time to meet my ride home. 

It felt like there was something for me in the brand and something for my friends who listened to different music and presented themselves differently, but we all shared a love of snowboarding. My favorites are highlighted in red below. I love the flowing lines reminiscent of the physicality of the sport itself, setting an edge and carving or feeling like I’m flying:

I can certainly see the downsides here: a ton of art to manage, spreading thin the definition of the Burton brand, and simply a ton of work to keep reinventing or reiterating the brand year after year (however good for keeping designers and illustrators employed).

My question is this: in a world where it feels like everything is trying to be optimized, stabilized, growth-minded—can a little logo chaos be a good thing?

Tell me what you think, drop me a line at ben@ahundredmonkeys.com