Q&A: Indie branding, the thesis

A few months back I got an interesting email from a graduate student at the Savannah College of Art and Design, Greta Ackerman. She was working on her thesis show, “The Ironic Brand.” It centered on the indie clothing brand Barking Irons, which she’d read about in the brand underground story last year.

Surprised as I was to hear this (I’ve had articles cited in academic papers and articles and books and so on, but this was a new one for me), she was even more surprised to learn that I live in Savannah. So I was quite happy to chat with her at the time, and to check out her actual thesis show here last month. It was impressively comprehensive, exploring print ads, online material, outdoor, even direct mail. The over-arching theme was how an underground brand can sell more without selling out.

Ms. Ackerman was of course at the opening, too — but she had to come in from out of town. She’s now a designer for Merkley i.D., a division of Merkley + Partners in New York. I decided to pester her with a few quick questions about the thesis project, and she graciously obliged.

Q: Let’s start with the obvious: Why this thesis subject, and why this brand?

I’m a fine art student-turned-advertising-designer, so I’ve spent a lot of time toggling between art for art’s sake and art with a commercial purpose. People, especially design students struggling to find a voice, often harp on designers who have “sold out,” applying their design skills or their artistic vision to a corporation to help them draw a profit.

The way I see it, there’s no shame in making a living, but there’s a lot about big business and the way it advertises and brands itself that turns me off. I was attracted by a group of brands on a mission to sell without being perceived as sell-outs, who had a greater purpose than simply profit (although some profit would be nice). I wanted to find out if that was even possible, and if so, how advertising could play a role, even a nontraditional role, in that process.

Barking Irons spoke to me as a brand trying to grow without losing its integrity, but it stood out against some of its fellow indie brands because of its old aesthetic. I love the history behind their design sensibility. My background is in illustration and printmaking, and I loved the thought of a couple of guys who read a lot spending time in some musty loft in New York sketching and silkscreening… I fell hard for the romance of it.

As an example of your overall approach/solution, tell us about the direct mail piece, how that fit in with what your goal/strategy was.

When I met Daniel Casarella and talked to him about Barking Irons, he confessed that the brand struggled to make and maintain contact with their customers. They have some fiercely loyal fans, but acquired them almost, it seems, by luck. Daniel’s very stubborn about creating a brand for people like this, who “get it,” which means the whole romantic, authentic aspect of their brand.

From an advertiser’s standpoint, direct mail is a great way to build consumer contact, but mass-produced postcards would undermine that whole authenticity thing. So, to bridge the gap between the two perspectives, I went back to the 19th century to build authentically Barking Irons direct mail?handwritten letters on cotton rag paper, with no branding or corporate styling save the pistols logo.

I went a step further and sealed the handmade envelope with sealing wax, the way Walt Whitman might have sealed a letter in his day. I thought this was the best way to stay true to the Casarellas’ respect for history while still self-promoting.

Any interesting or surprising feedback?

Aside from the overwhelming turnout at the gallery, I was thrilled that people seemed to understand what I was trying to do, to advertise without becoming an evil advertiser. But I’m still young… plenty of time for that later.

Murketing thanks Greta Ackerman for her time, thoughtfulness, and (as that last comment suggests) sense of humor.