The Direct-to-Consumer aesthetic: how minimalism obscures our identities
What happens when an aesthetic begins to obscure culture & design possibilities?
The Instagram ads you are mysteriously compelled to click on are slowly molding your style preferences. You know the ad with the perfect looking french bulldog wearing the sleek pink harness for purchase. The dog is walking toward their monochromatic-outfitted-owner standing against a bold orange studio backdrop. You can’t forget about the expected Sans Serif typeface with a pre-destined personality.
I’m in a candy store filled with digital brands like Warby Parker, AllBirds, Outdoor Voices, Everlane, Casper, Wild One, Glossier, By Humankind, and BarkBox products, to name a few. Or am I? I’m beginning to lose my taste. Is the flavor losing its punch or is it me?
Would I dare to purchase that random plant pot misplaced at the local garden store rather than from The Sill, the epitome of DTC brands? This distinct style of these brands is rapidly finding its way into all sorts of areas in this digital consumer era. The designs are becoming predictable. Equally as predictable: the backstory, the mission.
DTC Aesthetic: Addressing the Elephant in the Room
Now more than ever, consumers want a story and cause to rally behind. The idea of “putting your money where one’s mouth is” is the fruition of new generations leveraging their collective online presence. During the heated 2016 Presidential Election, we witnessed brands come under the limelight for their endorsements, specifically from upper leadership, and laid out bare for criticism, resistance, and bad press. Vogue? Couture? Flagship Only? Who cares. Tell me about your social, environmental, and political impact. Only radical transparency, please.
The first time I walked into Warby Parker to purchase a pair of glasses I was embraced warmly by their seemingly sensible product, story, and mission. This could be a case for successful branding and marketing efforts. What we’re seeing more is the DTC brand aesthetic infiltrating media and other industries beyond lifestyle products. This minimal and distinct Sans-Serif, hand-drawn illustrations, suave color schemes, and brand woke-ness is a formula reaching all corners of the internet. No doubt, these once small digital brands are shaking up larger, older brands to compete in this new social media enriched era.
Minimalism is embraced in the DTC world. I’m thinking of the minimal effort placed on the consumer to get what they want. Who are these new products really serving though? There’s always the forefront of inclusivity, sustainable practices, and ally-ship with many brands through social media features, collaborations, and representations. It’s all becoming formulated to serve the ideal consumer who fits this ideal streamlined lifestyle. The personality of the product is dismantled into a distinct profile and leaves little for the imagination.
How Minimalism Obscures Culture and Stories
This reminded me of a recent Scratching the Surface podcast featuring Kyle Chayka and host Jarret Fuller. In this episode, Jarrett and Kyle discuss how minimalism often obscures complex systems. Kyle described an example where magazines sold were sorted by their level of minimalism. The copies that were more minimal in design were sold at a higher price point than those with a less minimal composition. Industries hold certain aesthetics as more valuable and more worthy than others. This might be rooted in our Western cultural values and the oppression of other cultures.
One avenue of influence from strict minimalistic aesthetic guidelines is found in the food entertainment industry. More specifically, the growing popularity of the Bon Appétit YouTube Channel has created a cult following of what would appear to be a wholesome fandom. “Burnt the bread? No problem, it happens. We’ll work it through together.” Every test kitchen editor oozes the New York cadence and carries a home-cook’s approach to cooking.
This past summer, Bon Appétit dismantled their iconic staff due to pay discrepancy between their white staffers and those who are Black or of color. From their editorial side, a conversation started to spark around how often BIPOC create recipes rooted deeply in their culture that must be decontextualized and trimmed away to mold into the minimal and accessible-yet-exclusive framework that many mainstream food media abide by.
Effective inclusive practices in the digital age are not a watered-down more chewable version of a piece of content. Instead, it contains a long-term embodiment of culturally diverse stories and content that go beyond becoming culture props.
A Case for Successful Branding But Loosen Up A Little
I want to remind us of the magical experience of connecting with an object or service where a story is continued over time. Also where the design and aesthetic possibilities aren’t so formulated. It doesn’t have to be a one and done story.
In an interview with Adobe, Brian Collins, chief creative officer of COLLINS, shared insights around their design decisions and approach for the recent rebranding of the global digital platform Twitch. COLLINS embraced the radical idea of “mess is more.” Collins discusses the reasoning behind this decision, “One look at the history of Twitch told us that to reduce this winning formula it to a bland, minimalist design language would be ridiculous. For Twitch, less is not more. Mess is more.”
“A good brand delivers a product or service consistently. A great brand is about meeting — and then exceeding — the expectations of the present, while building equity for the future.”
Design is THE things right now. These trendy DTC brands have typically put human needs to the forefront of their products and identity. This might explain why a desk lamp from an online DTC brand is far better than the one off the Staples shelf. It’s now a matter of keeping these brands accountable and preventing one’s identity to be swept away by aggressive online aesthetics.
Embracing Noise, Personality, and Culture
This might be an extreme case, but any Korean-American in the states will recognize this chaotic mashup of distinct gradients and saturated colors at the grocery store. There’s personality and a stark memory that gets enveloped by these products that bring nostalgia.
What I’m getting at is that there’s a connection between consumers and products that can encompass a bit of “tough love.” A not-so-neutral aesthetic that is so detached from a consumer’s own style. Is it cool to not want to be a cool trendy indie-mainstream consumer but instead embrace the weirdness and work that goes into deciding for myself why I’m drawn to this funky object that has no brand backstory?
What Enters? More Importantly, What Stays?
What’s becoming of me is the stitching of these various DTC brands into my daily activities and outward projection of myself to the world. What I find myself becoming increasingly conscious of is how this identity might plague areas where experimentation and discovery occurs.
This might partly explain the rise in thrifting, supporting local artisans, and savoring those hidden gems with one-of-a-kind goods. These various outlets lure me with how they align with my style and beliefs rather than how I might fit their brand.
I’ll keep that slightly bland and eccentric-looking $7.99 biodegradable plant pot purchased from the local garden store near and dear to my heart — safe from storylines and excessive product packaging reminding me of how good some brand is. The meaning it carries to me is mine to conjure.