Yes, both of the partners of Hexanine will be speaking together at this year’s HOW Design Live. We’re super excited and ready to deliver the goods at our talk, and it’d be fun if you come too. We’ve always left the HOW Design events re-energized, inspired, and with tired arms from carrying cool swag. This year it’ll be in Boston from June 22-25 — clam chowder, that other historic ballpark, and that New England charm. What else do you need to know?

As speakers, we’re authorized to give you a super-secret promo code that will get you a $100 discount. Just enter HSPKR in the discount code box during the registration process, and HOW will deduct $100 from your total registration. Combine that with the March 30th Early Bird rate, it’s $170 off — that will buy a lot of Sam Adams beer! Can’t wait to see you there.

Most of us are awed by the marathon runners who push past their physical and mental limits (sometimes frighteningly so!) and move on to do something impressive. But it’s much harder (and less socially acceptable) to do that kind of scratching and clawing within an organization. Great brands, excellent products, impressive results — all of these things are done by people without excuses, individuals who have ignored the limits inside themselves, or those imposed by others. Why not bring a little of that limitless thinking to our everyday work?

When you talk to startups, CEOs, and others, it seems like everyone wants to be the “next Apple,” “just like Nike,” or to do things “the way Starbucks does.” Admittedly, these companies are icons and have surpassed the competition to become larger-than-life brands, symbols that stand for things both larger and more sweeping than the commerce they generate. But it’s not like any of them pushed a magic icon button to make it all happen. There’s no road map to guaranteed iconic status, or our world would be vastly different, to say the least. But if we dissect these kinds of rockstar brands, and remove the lucky breaks, the passion, sweat equity, and visionary leaders, what is left? We believe there are some fundamental activities remaining that help illuminate the roads a brand must take to becoming an icon.

Here are a few of them:

Ubiquity
You need to be everywhere your audience is. That doesn’t necessarily mean event-driven Super Bowl commercials or plastering your brand messages on every free inch of real estate. But it does require an intimate knowledge and understanding of the people you’re trying to reach, and then unobtrusively inserting your brand into their lives in useful and meaningful ways. This is less the persistent stalker syndrome and more the reliable, friendly presence. And it requires more than holding a sign that says “Remember, we’re here!” Today’s audiences want more from your brand than just a pathetic “Call me…?” Give them the means and a reason to follow you and follow up when their need arrives.

Repetition
To remain in that elusive “top-of-mind” position, it requires some sort of regular and consistent presence in the lives of your target audience. It’s up to you to determine the how and who, and which messages and means are crucial elements in your brand strategy. Repeat these in a way that doesn’t feel monotonous or self-absorbed (no one likes the people who only talk about themselves!), but slowly unfolds what you’re doing, what you’re about, and why it matters. This means that your brand’s messaging, look, feel, style, voice — all need to be consistent, working in concert to provide synergy that makes it sound like your organization speaks with one voice.

Emotional Connection
This might seem silly to a company that sells toilet brushes or distributes freight containers, but the honest truth is that nearly every purchase or product decision carries some sort of emotional weight to it, however slight. The hard part is finding out what that bit of caring is, and when it’s liable to happen to your audience. Someone might care very much about getting their morning coffee quickly, so the brand touchpoint of a fast line is crucial to evoking satisfaction. Simple, bold nutritional graphics might make a harried parent’s shopping a bit easier at the point of purchase. Audience empathy will lead to the discovery of these moments of emotional connection, allowing you to use your service, product, or offering to make a positive difference to them.

Spark
This is one of the least quantifiable aspects, but no less important in stepping up the ladder to brand stardom. What is a spark? It’s that “new and different” aspect that sets your brand apart from others. It could mean providing something that’s never been seen before (a Segway?), revamping an existing category (the iPad), or just offering a completely fresh point of view on familiar products (like Method did with cleaning supplies). The commonality in all of these is some type of “unique selling proposition” in marketing parlance, but we prefer to think of it as a brand’s soul, it’s spark, or reason for being. (And making money doesn’t count as a “reason for being.”)

Something Worth Sharing
Finally, you know you’ll have an iconic brand in-the-making when you have something people want to share with others. Sharing is a highly-overused term in our sphere of retweets, Likes, and thumbs up , but this principle has been around a lot longer than social media. In fact, it’s centuries old and very simple. Your brand needs to contain something that people want to tell others about. Other than the occasional brand train wreck, what brands are truly worth discussing? You need fans and people who want to selflessly evangelize about what you do, because they love it and want to tell others. The motivation might come from wanting to be the first kid on the block with the new toy, a desire to be the resident expert on something, or just an overflow of genuine delight.

These five aspects are no magic recipe, but instead, we hope that they’re a handful of crucial steps on the painstaking road towards brand greatness. Now get going.

With apologies and a tip of the hat to Kevin Costner for his wonderful Crash Davis speech in “Bull Durham”:

“Well, I believe in the Big Idea, the pitch, the hands, the power of a well-crafted phrase, the value of sketching, exquisite craft, late nights, that the work of David Carson belongs in the 1990s. I believe Paul Rand acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing advertising as branding and horizontal scaling of typography. I believe in the group critique, eyeball-searing visuals, under-promising and over-delivering, and I believe in long-term, ambitious, deep, professional dreams that will last the next three decades.”

It’s not just the hipsters who are doing it. Analog seems to be making a comeback. LP sales are climbing, people are resurrecting Polaroid-style film, preserving wooden type, buying vintage furniture and old-style printing with a vengeance. These are all natural reactions to seismic changes in technology and the ways in which we interact with objects. We can understand these sometimes-oddball interests and activities if they’re viewed through the lens of history. For hundreds — nay, thousands of years, human beings have interacted with physical objects and spaces in a particular way, whether it was hoeing in a dusty Nebraskan field, or signing a paper contract. But then digital devices arrived on the scene, and voila! Things have changed.

The Internet, cloud computing, capacative touchscreen devices, virtual models, avatars, message boards, electronic mail, Short Message Service texting on phones, and many other innovations have served to sever our centuries-old, hard-wired relationship with the good, old-fashioned physical object. But it seems like there’s a cultural memory or vestige of longing for some touch still hanging around, because the desire for analog experiences seems to be on the rise. So, what in the name of Thomas Alva Edison is going on? There are some things that physical objects do very well, where their digital cousins leave us a little cold. Here are a few reasons why yesterday’s gadgets, technologies, and ways of working just won’t die.

Holding something is like a relationship
It’s not just collectors who like to hold something in their hands. Whether it’s a baby, a baseball bat, or a diamond ring, the nature of the tactile experience brings us closer to a thing. Physical touch is a singular experience, creating a specific haptic bond, even with inanimate objects. Textures and touch hot-stamp our memories with emotion, and all of that is stored together in the recesses of our brains. That’s why running a hand over the polished fender of a ‘58 Impala brings some Boomers back to their teenage years. It’s very difficult to create a physical bond with an iTunes thumbnail.

This is one reason why many are experimenting with cassette-only music labels, collecting vinyl, and connecting with methods of creating and playing that date back to earlier eras. Previously it was assumed that to complete a task, to work or play with an object, that a person would have a specific interaction and get particular feedback or influence from a physical object. But with technological sea changes, many of the experiences we’ve had in the past — reading a newspaper, sketching a model, penning a poem, playing an arcade game — now come to us by way of glowing screens and digital devices. (The irony that I’ve written this entire article on my iPad and computer is not lost on me.) That’s not to say that these new ways of working and interacting are bad, but where they excel in efficiency and transferability, they can fall short in connection and permanence.

Old things connect us with history
For many in Generations X and Y , anything that isn’t the newest and shiniest falls out of fashion. To them, old stuff seems lame, antiquated, and worthless. Why watch a “boring” silent film when you can be rocked back in your chair by the sweet strains of Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol in Dolby 7.1 IMAX? And who wouldn’t prefer a Taylor Swift ringtone to some Stevie Nicks album? But for a growing group on the margins, there is value in connecting with a time period before your own. Sure, some of it is probably a fascination with “otherness” — something we didn’t grow up with has a alien nature to it, a patina of authenticity because it came from a “simpler time.”

But some of the appeal is also true curiosity about how things were done before. And not just for novelty’s sake, but because those experiences offer a time-rooted and unique interaction that modern creation doesn’t always afford us.  There is also an archaeological aspect to the search, a seeking for truth in what other generations did — what was it like? How do their creative impulses and executions compare to the way I do things? These are valid questions that need to be worked out, and sometimes the “analog way” might be the best path to explore.

Making something tangible is a richer experience
There is something satisfying about pulling a screen, developing film in a darkroom, or making Super 8 films. The act of connecting to an activity in a physical manner builds a sort of physical memory and satisfaction that mediated experiences can’t match. The output is something that can be held, turned over, cherished, filed, and admired. While we’ve tried to recreate these interactions (like the website page flips or iPhone apps), they come off as pale imitations of analog experiences.

In the end, our parents were right. There is such a thing as sweat equity — and building, assembling, or initiating creation with some physical expression leaves a lasting imprint on the world and the creator herself. I doubt we’ll be auctioning off the digital signatures or iPad sketches of famous people fifty years from now. The connection is not the same when something has never been touched.

They lead us to belonging
Finally, in discovering these analog means of creation or consumption, we seek to connect with other like-minded folks. Not everyone will appreciate these analog experiences, but in finding fellow students of physicality, we are also searching for identification and belonging to a group, tribe, or class of others who fundamentally understand us. Musicians jam together. Knitting circles knit. Audiophiles swap albums. This connection, this very human sense of belonging, seems to be even more fragile and scarce in a disconnected world that offers hollow, one-dimensional versions of “community” at the hands of Facebook, message boards, and LinkedIn groups. It’s a fundamental hunger for human relationship, and shared physical experiences are often more meaty than their appetizer-size digital counterparts.

All of this has to be postscripted with a disclaimer. It’s an ignorant and short-sighted man who scoffs at the future, and we certainly aren’t shaking our fists at the amazing innovations and technologies that tomorrow is ushering in. The future has afforded us amazing abundance, new experiences, and in many cases, deeply satisfying careers. But we’ll miss out on a treasure trove of beauty, creativity, and connectedness if we don’t truly consider all that the analog experiences have to offer.

While this season’s Lexus December to Remember holiday campaign is being panned, ridiculed, and parodied, we took notice on the astonishing long-term brand ramifications of it all.

Team One, a unit of Saatchi & Saatchi, created the commercials, in which an unsuspecting husband or wife is confronted by the Lexus December to Remember jingle (you’d know it if you heard it), while their partner watches and waits in gleeful anticipation. The delivery method varies from spot to spot (a rock-band themed video game, a crystal music box, and oddly, elevator music), but the hook remains the same — slowly, the gift receiver recognizes the music (as does the viewer) and realizes they’re about to receive a $30–80,000 present. The big reveal is the couple walking towards a brand new Lexus, as always, topped with a big, red bow.

The messy societal issues of such a campaign aside, the ads are a brilliant example of how short-term brand coherence can pay off in the long run, in surprising and unexpected ways.

Lexus first began using the jingle, a shortened version of songwriter Steve Kujala’s “Family and Friends,” for the local Los Angeles market in 1999, taking it, and December to Remember, national in 2001. Year after year, come November, Team One and Lexus returned to the jingle, and now, 13 years later, it’s built up massive amounts of brand equity.

13 years is an eternity in the advertising world, and most jingles — even those supporting entire global brands — don’t have a shelf life half that long. Here we have a single seasonal campaign whose theme music has become so recognizable, that it itself can act as a playful hook supporting an entire campaign, almost singlehandedly.

It’s these kind of results that show why brand equity is so important, and why sticking to your branding year after year can yield unexpected — and invaluable — results. No amount of money could have bought Lexus that kind of consumer recognition in a year, or even two. In branding, just like cooking, time itself is an essential component that can’t be replaced.

So what do you think? Are there other seasonal campaign jingles that can hold a candle to Lexus’ December to Remember? Let us know by leaving your thoughts in the comments below.

It’s probably no surprise when I say that our blog, and Twitter account have been relatively quiet of late. Between moving into a new office, and a slew of new projects and proposals, we’ve barely had a chance to slow down, ponder, and drink in much of the outside world.

I speak for myself in saying this — that in the headlong rush towards the end of the year, I’ve barely been able to fit in daily tasks, much less the time to think deeply into open spaces. And I think my creative brain has suffered.

Sure, the analytical side of me has had a field day with proposals, strategic planning, organizing, and the like. But between this, and the demands of life (we are expecting our first child in March!) I haven’t been able to get enough white space.

It’s that white space that buffers, that allows the wandering mind to relax, unclench, and then meander through the vast storehouses of my subconscious. It’s the fun stuff, the joyous acts of creation, the hilarious whimsy that’s needed to refresh our creative parts, dare I say — even our deepest souls. That white space is so crucial in its many forms, the shower time where “next steps” and to-dos take a back seat to the aimless mind.

I need to clear off my plate, commit to ignoring the URGENT, and block out life’s steady thrum, in order to get some deep living in for the betterment of my creative heart and soul.

Even though I’m not a big believer in New Year’s resolutions (I think we can decide to change any day of the year), I’m publicly committing to something different in 2012, a renewed devotion to developing, nurturing, and creating more white space for myself.

Anyone else want to join me? (You just have to be really quiet.)

Some people think strategy in design isn’t sexy, but that’s just wrong. You have to know how to see the beauty in purposeful design choices and methods. Great aesthetics without strategic underpinnings are like frosting on a meatloaf. Strategy isn’t sexy like the tipsy girl who flirts with you at the bar. Strategy is the sexy you bring home to meet your Mom.

We’ve just received the proofs for our upcoming book, “Damn Good: Top Designers Discuss Their All-Time Favorite Projects” and are fine-tooth combing one last time before the volume heads to the printer. We’re finalizing the details with our publisher, HOW Books, and everyone’s excited as the finish line draws near. We will be releasing some more images, spreads, and other sneak peeks of the book very soon, so be on the lookout.

Probably one of the most underrated assets in co-workers, employees, and people in general is assertiveness. Not to be confused with aggressiveness, assertive workers strike first, asking “How will I do that?” or “Why shouldn’t I?” They are the people who expect to get that prospect meeting, those who introduce themselves to the famous speaker, and those who live by the adage, “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

They take action, make things happen, and don’t wait to be told to go for it. Within an organization, this personal makeup is golden, and often makes up for other areas where someone is less talented. Is assertiveness on your radar?