Check out the hottest new typefaces in our monthly roundup.

Summer is fast becoming a memory. We've all had our holidays, switched off our out-of-office replies, and are wondering whether to put a jumper over our T-shirt. And as we power up our laptops once more, there's oodles of typeface goodness to lap up.

This month's releases include a Victorian grotesque revival with a political conscience and a Peignot update from Production Type. There's Castillon, a serif that fuses British and French calligraphic traditions with those from Estonia; Tüpokompanii's Vee arrives as a younger sister to the Bauer Venus of 1907.

The real standout story, though, has to be Exemplar. Göran Söderström began drawing it way back in 1994, before many people reading this article were born. It is now, more than three decades on, complete. To celebrate, he carved its history into marble street signs in Italy. And after all that work, who could deny him that?

1. Autêntica Serif by Sofia Mohr

We've been watching Sofia Mohr's Autêntica superfamily expand across the year with admiration, and this serif release doesn't disappoint. Where Autêntica Sans established the family's rhythm and editorial personality, this new release translates those qualities into something warmer and more sculptural; inspired, she says, by Brazilian Brutalism and its dialogue with landscape and light.

With its bold, rounded serifs, softened corners and fluid terminals that open into subtle drop-like shapes, this is not a standard serif by any means. Six weights and a variable font make it very versatile, and this font could be a good choice to use for branding, packaging, editorial and cultural projects.

2. Exemplar by Göran Söderström

Thirty-two years: that's how long Göran Söderström of Letters from Sweden has been working on Exemplar. He began drawing it in 1994 on a Power Macintosh 7100. Finally, it's complete: five weights with italics, 791 glyphs, supporting Latin, Cyrillic, Greek and Arabic across 370 languages.

To mark the occasion, Letters from Sweden carved the typeface's three-decade history into marble street signs in Pietrasanta, Italy: one sign per decade, per address where each version of the typeface was designed. They even made a short film about it. They're very excited. And rightly so: this is a significant piece of work: a humanist serif that's been lived with, tested, refined and reconsidered across three decades of design practice. Indeed, Exemplar's multilingual scope alone—370 languages!—puts it in a different category from most typefaces.

3. Castillon by Malou Verlomme

We always have high expectations for the work of Malou Verlomme, who co-designed 00 Quatorze, which we covered in December 2025. And we're happy to report that with Castillon, they've been met. Released through 205TF, this serif sits at the intersection of two typographic traditions: British and French; the broad-nib pen and the stone chisel.

The contrast between thick and thin strokes is pronounced, as is the tension between structural capitals and more fluid lowercase forms. As its makers put it: "The serifs seem to waver between lapidary incision and calligraphic stroke", creating a lovely tension that could help bring designs across a number of applications to life. Six weights with matching italics, only slightly inclined and deliberately narrow, complete this confident family.

4. Foundry Kingdom by David Quay and Stuart De Rozario

Three years in the making, Foundry Kingdom is described by designer Stuart De Rozario in unusual terms. "[It] is not champagne, it is a pint of bitter in the local pub," he says. "It is not the King's horse at Ascot, but the drayman's horse hauling beer barrels through narrow streets. It is not spectacle or ceremony, but industrial labour: the quiet dignity of work."

Rooted in the early grotesques of the 19th century, Foundry Kingdom is a homage to that English lineage at the point before it diverged into the German neutrality that eventually led to Helvetica. Within its DNA lie historic forms that were meant to be read quickly and clearly under pressure: railway lettering, newspaper type, hot-metal printing.

Named as a tribute to Isambard Kingdom Brunel, its strokes are heavy, the proportions functional. Meanwhile, details such as bold terminals on the a, c, g, j, r, s, t and y; a two-storey a, and a double-storey g add plenty of character to the mix. Foundry Kingdom is available across fourteen styles from Light to Black.

5. Peignot Jumbo by Cassandre

Peignot is one of the classic display typefaces of the last century. Production Type's House of Cassandre imprint has been stewarding that legacy, and Peignot Jumbo is its latest, carefully considered extension. The concept was a simple one. As Production Type's Deniz Eser Uslu puts it: "There never was an original rounded version of Peignot in the foundry archives, so we decided to make one."

Peignot Jumbo is calibrated for maximum display impact, with all the drama of the original at scale, without any of the compromise at smaller optical sizes. It's a strong choice if you need your typography to be distinctive, whether you're working in a cultural institution, the fashion industry, or in high-impact editorial.

6. Vieno by Teo Tuominen

Vieno is certainly ambitious. In developing it, Spoke's Teo Tuominen took the discipline of Bodoni and Didot as his starting point, then deliberately pursued the contradictions rather than resolving them. The result: a serif that consciously sets organic and mechanical forms against each other, leading to a beautiful tension between tradition and modernity.

Despite these historical inspirations, though, Vieno is also pretty original. As Teo puts it: "The terminals are mechanical, rigid squares, the dots are shaped like a diamond, and sharp angles can be found throughout the character set."

Vieno comes in 15 weights from Extralight to Black, each with matching italics, plus a complementary monospaced style for contrast. The character set includes old-style and tabular figures, ligatures, circled numerals, inferiors, superiors, fractions, alternates and a set of distinctive icons.

7. Novaform by Identity Letters

We all love a 1970s geometric type revival. And better still, Novaform is a more nuanced entry into that genre than most.

It's inspired by an era when classic faces like Kabel and Futura were reimagined with interlocking uppercase ligatures, tremendous x-heights, and a boldness calibrated for display.

As Identity Letters point out, though: "These hallmarks of the phototypesetting era were exclusively designed for display use." By contrast, Novaform has been designed to be more approachable, look more natural and read well in body text.

Ten weights, stylistic sets, hallmark ligatures and a Unicase mode let designers dial up or dial down the showiness as required. The Unicase mode, in particular, makes the typeface's most distinctive quality available as a choice, not a constraint.

8. Raimundo by Enrique Hernández

Raimundo was designed by Enrique Hernández, the father of one of Latinotype's founders, and this familial link seems to have added an extra layer of warmth to its DNA. Type designer Jorge Cisterna describes it as "that friend who gives you straight advice with a pat on the back. A raspy, confident voice that always has a joke behind every line."

Sitting somewhere between geometric and grotesque, the font features rounded forms, open counters and a weight range that moves from quiet to loud, while alternate forms for a, e and g allow the tone to shift from neutral to expressive in small, controlled increments.

The 541-glyph character set includes typographic emoticons, and not by accident: this is a consumer-facing typeface, not a corporate one. Eight weights from ExtraLight to ExtraBold make it a strong choice for food retail, packaging, digital products and brand identities.

9. Arpeggio by Paulo Goode

Paulo Goode, whose typeface Raxmus we featured in our May roundup, returns with a typeface that's very, very different. Where Raxmus was flared and stone-carved, Arpeggio is a transitional serif; warm, readable and disciplined. It could serve as a workable alternative to Baskerville; not to mention Caslon, Mrs Eaves, Georgia, Perpetua and Bookman.

Described by Paul as "an original text typeface that balances disciplined rhythm with expressive character", it oozes clarity and confidence in the text weights whilst the Display collection amplifies the characterful nuances with sharpened forms, graceful swashes and exuberant flourishes. A strong choice for books, magazine design or a luxury brand identity.

There are twenty-seven fonts in all across Thin to Black weights, with 500+ glyphs covering all Latin European languages. Variable fonts are available on request.

10. The Henston by Elena Genova

Elena Genova of My Creative Land, whose typeface Differently was featured in our July round-up, returns with a flared serif inspired by the incised letterform tradition exemplified by Berthold Wolpe's Albertus and Hermann Zapf's Optima. The design is subtle enough for display, whilst maintaining legibility at subhead and text sizes.

The companion italics draw on calligraphy, and there's a well-chosen selection of ligatures, swash capitals, alternates and stylistic sets. There are two widths, each with eight weights from Thin to Black, with true italics included in Regular. This would be a good choice for a brand website, a magazine cover or a book cover.

11. Partiche by Richard Lipton

Created by Richard Lipton, who's been designing type for more than 40 years, Partiche is an expressive sans with a calligraphic eye. It was inspired by the graphic sensibility of Seymour Chwast, the Push Pin Studios co-founder whose mid-century work was characterised by wit, warmth and visual intelligence.

The details Lipton takes from that source are specific: wedge-shaped terminals, sculptural spurs, unexpected details. On the surface, Partiche looks monolinear, but closer inspection reveals the calligraphic thinking underneath. Small caps and a purposeful set of alternates make this font a good choice when a design needs both character and utility.

12. GRX by Daniel McQueen and Bouk Ra

The latest typeface from The Designers Foundry is built across four sub-families: GRX, GRX Raw, GRX Poster and GRX Poster Raw. The base GRX contrasts bold, rugged serifs with controlled strokes. Raw adds rough texture inside the letterforms, giving the type a handmade weight. Poster sharpens the terminals and amplifies the contrast between thick and thin. And Poster Raw combines both directions simultaneously.

There are five weights per sub-family, and built-in stylistic sets and discretionary ligatures for further expressive control: 40 styles in total. The idea is to give creative latitude while retaining a level of formality. The Poster Raw styles in particular have a graphic intensity that would work well in editorial and poster design.

13. Vee by Laura Pappa and Tüpokompanii

Vee draws inspiration from Venus, a sans-serif typeface family released by the Bauer Type Foundry in 1907 that was popular throughout the first half of the 20th century. Having worked with Venus herself, graphic designer Laura Pappa was eager to develop a typeface that references its distinctive character while introducing new qualities of its own.

A collaboration between Laura and Estonian type studio Tüpokompanii, Vee is described as "Venus' younger, more mischievous sister." To accompany its release, Tüpokompanii published a print companion called "Let yourself be bad at things": a conversation between the foundry and Pappa about the origins of their working process, the development of Vee, and the values embedded in their typefaces. It's a thoughtful pairing of typeface and text, and suggests a foundry that thinks carefully.

14. Estelar Variable by Mauricio Zanon

Estelar came out of a sketch. Mauricio Zanon of Zanon Studio, based in Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil, was working on a visual identity project that required a handful of modularly designed letters, and something in those early letterforms suggested a typeface rather than a logotype. Estelar grew from there, developed through the FontePro course from Plau, and ultimately became Zanon Studio's first commercial type release.

The design sits at the intersection of futuristic and calligraphic: technological characteristics softened by a handwritten quality that prevents it from feeling cold or mechanical. A variable axis covering weight and slant, plus 16 individual static weights from Thin to ExtraBold, 400 glyphs, and support for 95 languages give it plenty of range. A good choice for logos, impactful titles and websites.

15. YJ Handful of Sunshine by Yenty Jap

Aussie designer Yenty Jap closes this month's round-up with something welcoming and cheerful. YJ Handful of Sunshine is a hand-drawn display typeface with two character sets (Standard and Stylistic Alternates). It's designed to bring a calm, human handwriting voice into modern branding, and is inspired by everyday writing, journaling and note-taking.

The strokes are light and relaxed, with rounded terminals that keep the texture soft. Rhythm is loose but controlled, giving each word a natural flow without losing clarity. Spacing is open, allowing text to breathe in menus, packaging, and signage. Proportions stay steady across the alphabet, creating a handwriting style that feels warm, modern, and human.

This font would be a good choice for use in hospitality, lifestyle, and boutique branding, and more broadly, for anyone trying to give their designs a warm, handmade feel.

It's not about you; it's about a broken business culture. Our latest Dear Boom dilemma looks at how to tackle ghosting from clients.

You've spent a lot of time, effort and emotional energy forging a working relationship. It's all going well. Then… nothing. The founder who said they loved your first concept simply vanishes. A marketing lead who's briefed you thoroughly and has promised a purchase order suddenly leaves you high and dry.

It's a horrible situation to be in. From a financial standpoint alone, it can be crippling. But more fundamentally, you also start to doubt yourself. Was the quote too high? Were the concepts lame? Did they find someone cheaper, or use AI? Did you have some food on your face during the Zoom call that everyone was too polite to point out?

Horrific, right? But here's what we've learned from our community on LinkedIn and Instagram. In 2026, ghosting has become systemic. So you shouldn't take it personally. Because it's not really about you at all.

Why silence has become the default

"I've seen a lot of this so far this year, and it can feel really hollow at times," says director and cinematographer Rob Pinney. "I'm still getting a good number of approaches for new projects, but many more of those now end up with a dead email chain than before."

So what's behind the trend? "There seems to be a lot more budget hesitancy right now," Rob suggests. "And I suspect some of that is to do with clients weighing up that potential spend on video production, in my case, versus what they could do with it elsewhere, including with AI tools."

Film director Farai Dube has had similar experiences. "It's a lot of stop and start," he says. "When you're at the start of the conversation, there's actually a budget, but that's in jeopardy depending on sales and generally how much money's coming in. I get that: the part that's frustrating is keeping you on the hook. I'd rather have clarity upfront."

Yet it's not just cash-strapped clients who are guilty of ghosting. Creative director Rich Holt, for instance, complains about "recruiters who appeal for specific people to contact them—even though they're supposed to know the industry and have CVs on their desk already—and then just never reply." Director and lecturer Luke Tonge, meanwhile, calls out: "folks not replying when you invite them to speak at an event. It can hold up planning for weeks and even months."

So why does ghosting seem to be getting so much worse these days?

The fear factor

Graphic designer and photo retoucher Sandrine Bascouert reckons there's something deeper going on than just laziness or poor organisation. "I think some people are afraid of communication as a whole," she says. "Ghosting has become a way to avoid normal conversations where there could be feelings hurt and disappointment."

That certainly chimes with my experience as a member of Generation X. When I first entered journalism in the 1990s, almost the entire job was phoning people. As long as you were polite and respectful, everyone was happy to chat.

By around the mid-2000s, though, I noticed that many creatives under 30 were screening their calls and wouldn't pick up if they didn't know the caller personally, even if they were actively trying to promote themselves and their work, which never made any sense to me.

Eventually I admitted defeat, and switched to email. But by the mid-2010s, many creatives were keeping their emails private—despite, again, ostensibly wanting self-promotion—and I had to start relying on social media DMs instead.

In 2026, many of those creatives are now seniors and CEOs. So it's no surprise to me that some might lack the ability to have difficult conversations, and not be willing to put in the emotional labour when times get difficult. I don't wish to generalise about an entire generation, of course. But still.

Good reason or bad actor?

Poor communication skills, though, are only one reason for ghosting: there are plenty more. If we're being generous, for instance, we might assume that there's been something like a family emergency, and the other party just doesn't have the capacity to even open their inbox right now.

At the other end of the spectrum, some people can just be dicks. We've all heard of companies who interview people, ask for their ideas, and then simply steal them. There was never any job, freelance work or collaboration opportunity in the first place. It was all a scam.

Then there are those who sit somewhere in the middle, who aren't malicious, but just fail to cope. That doesn't help you, of course. As designer Nicholas Robb points out: "It starts to feel unfair after you've done a couple of calls with the stakeholders, bordering on consultation to help them scope it up. It would take 30 seconds to email back and say 'not interested + a reason why'."

Yet as an entrepreneur himself, he can also empathise. "I think business owners in particular are just so overwhelmed these days that they can't afford the time or mental space to do even that," he reflects. "So I try not to take it personally."

How we should respond

Other than not beating yourself up for being ghosted, though, what can you practically do?

As a rule of thumb, designer Alexander Clark has developed a script. "After two or three of my emails go unreplied, I write this", he says, "Since I've not heard from you, I'll be pausing this and moving forward with other projects. Please let me know when you'd like to proceed or if you've changed priorities." It usually yields a response within a day."

This is a good strategy because it removes all ambiguity. You've stopped chasing them (giving them the power) and are about to close the door (giving you the power). They have no choice but to make a decision. At this point, silence and doing nothing becomes a decision in itself.

And if that's what happens? Then move on, feeling empowered that you took control of the situation. And remember: their silence is not a poor reflection on you; it's a poor reflection on their lack of professionalism and communication skills.

Setting boundaries upfront

Ultimately, prevention is always better than cure. So if you want to avoid getting ghosted, it's always good to set boundaries upfront, such as a deadline for responding to proposals. That might seem a little overbearing, but remember that clients and employers are often super-busy, and a deadline can actually be helpful for them too.

Content creator Jacob Elias Nurse offers a further suggestion: have a lot of plates spinning. "One thing I've learned from my nine months of being a full-time freelancer is that keeping busy helps you not worry too much about replies from companies that want to dangle a carrot in your face," he explains. "If you keep grinding at your craft, the money will follow."

He even finds a way to frame ghosting as a positive. As he puts it: "Their disrespect isn't a reflection of your craft or your quote. If anything, it helps you weed out who you want as a client and who you don't want as one."

Founder and creative director Kirsten Murray agrees. "A person who ghosts you is not someone you want to work with," she says. "Mutual respect and open communication make for the best creative partnerships."

So maybe that's the main takeaway. Ghosting sucks, for sure, but it's not necessarily a calamity. In fact, in the long term, it could be a good thing: saving you from a nightmare client and freeing you up to find a good'un instead.

Thibault Barillon of Robocobra Quartet explain why he grew petri dishes of fungus to illustrate their 100-track release.

When I was a student, I shared a room with a lovely bloke, but he did have some unsavoury habits. For instance, he had a pint glass by his bed and his ambition over the course of several weeks was to gradually fill it to the top with his own phlegm (he was a heavy smoker). I can't remember exactly how far he got, but it was pretty far advanced. (My brain seems to have blocked out the details, which is probably a sign I needed psychic protection at this point.)

So when I first saw the artwork for Belfast group Robocobra Quartet's 100-track album Hundred Pieces, my mind immediately went to unpleasant places. But thankfully, it turns out the contents of those images didn't come from the band members' bodies; they were produced through something of a home science project.

Robocobra Quartet, whose unique sound combines influences from jazz, hardcore punk and contemporary classical, was inspired to create the 100-track, five-hour record by Serbian artist Marina Abramović, whom the Evening Standard described as "perhaps the single most important figure in performance art". So it seems appropriate that they took an equally experimental approach to the cover art.

A dish served cold

It all came about because, while writing the album, saxophonist Thibault Barillon started growing 100 petri dishes of fungus at home... as you do.

"One day I just bought some agar plates and started experimenting," he recalls. "I found joy in inventing my own techniques for what type of mould would grow from different organic matter I'd put on the plate a few days earlier. This started before we knew Hundred Pieces would become a thing, without grand plans or intent."

As time went by, the band became more aware of the parallels with Thibault's petri dish process and the process of recording the album: namely, "chance-based moments and letting songs find themselves, melodies and riffs as spores spreading and growing, the cross-pollination, the joy of the process and the beauty of art taking a life of its own that the artist hadn't intended."

As each petri dish turned into a unique riot of colour and organic growth, each was shot exactly the same way, from exactly the same angle: dead-centre, in a square white-background frame. "The petri dishes were an exploration of beauty in the natural world, scientific drawings and experiments that touch us emotionally without an artist's intent being behind it," explains Thibault. Some dishes were shot again days or weeks later as the cultures developed further, reflecting similar dynamics in the recording of the album.

Now each of these 100 images will accompany one of the 100 tracks on the album, and a rapid-fire GIF cycling through them will be used as the Spotify canvas for the key track, Haha, which drops in about a week.

No need for a moodboard

To me, the most interesting part is that none of this was briefed, storyboarded, or moodboarded into existence. It was just grown in a home, on a whim, and only later did the band notice it was already telling the same story as the music.

For a band whose press notes proudly state the album was "created with absolutely zero use of AI", there's an irony to the fact that this cover was made, in a sense, generatively. But while the band leaned into the chaos of nature, they also kept a level of control by imposing a strict photographic system. It's often in these spaces between anarchy and a clear vision that creativity springs forth most effectively.

It's also worth noting that none of this required a large budget, a team of experts or a professional brainstorming session. And perhaps that's exactly why this album's artwork probably won't look like any other when it's released in November.

As part of a campaign titled 'Say It Over a Drink', 25 illustrated coasters are getting pub-goers in the UK talking about debt.

Anyone who's ever worked for government, a public body or a charity will be familiar with the challenge. Your goal is to get people talking about an issue that's typically brushed under the carpet, whether that's menustration, mental health or suicide. But subjects are taboo for a reason. Stick a huge, imposing billboard in their face, and they may turn away, or tune it out. Sometimes, then, it's better to come at things from a sideways angle. And here's a great example.

Lowell calls itself Europe's leading credit management company and claims to have helped over 3.5 million customers become debt-free since its founding in 2004. But you can't help people who don't want to be helped. And most of us will know exactly what it's like when you get into seemingly unsustainable debt and feel the overwhelming urge to just bury your head in the sand.

Part of that is not wanting to face up to the problem. Another important part is not wanting the social shame of admitting your problem, which leads to a horrible Catch-22. Opening up to friends is necessary to get the emotional support you need. But the stigma of doing so keeps you trapped in a mental vicious circle.

Lowell's is trying to square that circle with a campaign called Say It Over a Drink. But rather than posters, billboards or TV ads, they're doing things subtly. They've commissioned five illustrators—James Cluer, Emily Birch, Sam Peel, Ery Burns and Becky Mann—to create 25 coasters. Each carries a simple prompt designed to help someone say the first sentence about money they've been avoiding. And they're distributing them across pubs, cafés and restaurants across the UK.

Context is king

So why is that a good move? I think it's all about context. A poster or billboard is normally only glanced at, so it's designed to provoke an instant, powerful reaction. "I want to buy that!" in the case of commerce. "I want to vote for/against that!" in the case of something political. But in a case like this, the instant reaction of the person in debt is just going to be that shame and embarrassment I mentioned earlier. Counterproductive, basically.

A coaster, in contrast, sits on the table in a bar and largely gets ignored. When there's a lull in the conversation, or the person you're out with heads to the loo (and there's no phone reception), you might pick it up and start playing with it, tap it against the table, subconsciously start peeling away at its corner. You probably won't even notice the words on it for a couple of minutes, if at all.

When you do, though, you're probably going to be in the right mindset to take those words in. And if you're having a relaxed and pleasant night out with a friend, you're going to be more likely to actually start talking about it. Makes sense, right?

The idea originally sprang from Lowell's research among its 300 customers, of which one in four said they would rather talk to their family about sex than debt, and 69% would rather have their search history leaked than reveal their bank balance.

Leaving aside how slippery those surveys can be (it all depends on how the questions are asked), that sounds about right. Maybe it's normal to talk about money in some cultures, but in England certainly "I'm a bit skint this month" or "I can't come out till payday" is about as far it'll go.

In that light, these illustrations do a good job of shifting that mindset. There's nothing scary or off-putting in the scenes they depict: a fortune teller, an empty wallet, a person pushing a huge coin up a hill. But they do a good job of setting the scene while the questions they illustrate ("Is debt on your mind lately?", "What's your biggest money worry?", "That debt still stressing you out?") serve as excellent prompts for a society that generally wants to get their mates to open up, but doesn't really know how to go about it.

As John Pears, UK CEO at Lowell, puts it: "A coaster might seem like an unusual place to tackle debt, but that's exactly why it works. It meets people in moments when they're already talking, catching up and connecting. We hope these simple prompts help make it easier for someone to open up, because asking for help often starts with a conversation."

This clever poster turns a sentence into a train journey: a simple but effective design trick, delivered in style.

Let's be honest, we all know what a travel ad looks like. Beautiful scenery, with not a bulldozer or screaming infant in sight? Check. Catchy yet ultimately bland and empty slogan? Check? Smiling, impossibly attractive people? Check.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with that. Holidays for most of us are just a welcome break from everyday life, and a little bit of fantasy never did anyone any harm. And I've got nothing personally against impossibly attractive people; some of my best friends count among their number.

But if you're trying to sell consumers on something they wouldn't normally do, and in fact might be nervous of doing in a foreign country where they don't speak the lingo, you'll need to work a little harder.

That's exactly the challenge that the global brand consultancy We Are Pi, working with social agency Butterfly Effect, were presented with. They were approached by Interrail B.V, the Dutch company behind the European rail travel scheme that makes it cheap and easy to travel across the continent with a special pass.

As well as boosting the scheme, there was also a bit of brand housekeeping to do. Up until this point, Interrail B.V. had two brands for essentially the same rail pass: Interrail for people living in Europe, Eurail for visitors from elsewhere. The latter needed to be folded into the Interrail brand, following the business changing its name from Eurail B.V. to Interrail B.V. earlier in the year.

Better than flying

The campaign indirectly challenges the notion that because flying is quicker, it's better. Instead, it leans into the idea that the longer journey isn't an inconvenience; it's part of the adventure, via a brand concept they've dubbed The Interrail Effect.

This was backed up by a customer survey in which around 70% of Interrail customers said their trip changed how they see the world. A similar number considered the experiences more impactful than other types of travel, and around a quarter considered it much more impactful than other holidays they'd taken.

To get this across visually, the launch poster shows a stylised map of Europe. Running across it is a single yellow line representing a train route; only the stops aren't cities – they're words. Joining them together gives you the sentence: "Realising the best bit is between here and there."

It's a common design trick, but it works because it forces the reader to make a bit of an effort. Had the sentence been instantly legible, it wouldn't make half as much impact.

There's a nice extra touch too: the journey doesn't end with the last word; the line continues, albeit it's now dotted and straight. It's a subtle way to evoke the idea of exploring and making it up as you go along, without beating people over the head with the idea.

Creator-led campaign

Another element of the campaign is a series of short video clips made by 30 creators from the US, Canada, Australia and Europe, who were asked to travel across the continent with Interrail over summer and share their experiences.

These clips sit in a comfortable space between standard YouTube shorts and glossy, cinematic films. The former would have been a bit "So what?", the second would have seemed a bit overblown for a target audience that's likely to be sleeping in the cheapest hostel. The sweet spot they've reached feels, in the words of Goldilocks, just right.

Ultimately, there's nothing particularly new in this campaign, but at the same time, there didn't need to be.

As Özlem Birkalan, chief brand and commercial officer at Interrail, puts it: "'The Interrail Effect' isn't something we invented. It's something travellers have described to us for decades, in their own words, after every journey. What's changing is that we're finally building the brand around it. Not around where people travel, but around what travelling like this does to them."

The campaign launched globally on 10 September in the UK, Australia and the US, and will roll out across a mix of paid, owned and earned channels including paid media, organic social, EDM, partnerships and PR as well as participating creators' own Instagram, TikTok and other social platforms.

Led by Samar Maakaroun, these two identities for a maker space and event space highlight how strong brand architecture is built on discipline, not decoration.

Msheireb Downtown Doha is a planned city in Doha, the capital of Qatar, that's designed to regenerate the historical district of Mushayrib (literally, 'a place to drink water' in Arabic). It's been promoted as being the world's first sustainable downtown regeneration project, and one of the smartest cities on Earth. And Doha Design District (DDD) is its hub for design, innovation, and collaboration.

Director Dana Kazic approached Samar Maakaroun and her team at Pentagram with a challenge: introduce two distinct spaces within the district, while strengthening, rather than fragmenting, the parent brand.

One would be a maker's space dedicated to experimentation and artistic development; the other, an event space that becomes a destination for exhibitions, events, and public engagement. They'd be positioned physically opposite each other.

Striving for connection

It sounds like either a massive challenge or the stuff of nightmares, depending on how much experience you've had dealing with having to juggle the competing demands of brands and sub-brands, not to mention different languages.

In these scenarios, the client typically wants the two sub-brand spaces to feel connected. But in practice, they often get two names that share a typeface and a colour palette, but not much else. The connection is clearly expressed in a brand guideline PDF, yet never really translates to what the public actually sees and feels.

To avoid that scenario, Samar—whose identity for The Mosaic Rooms in London we covered back in April—and her team took the time to get things right. As they put it: "The relationship had to allow equity to move in all directions: from DDD to the sub-brands, between the sub-brands themselves, between languages, and back again into the wider district."

Naming and letter design

Next up came the naming process. The team explored a range of ideas, from letter repetitions connected to the DDD symbol to Arabic words that had a spatial dimension and were easy to say out loud. The main thing was that the names needed to work together naturally and feel like two halves of a whole.

They found the solution in a pair of Arabic words that already had a relationship with each other. Mada, meaning range, reach or possibility, was chosen for the maker's space. Sada, meaning echo, was chosen for the space where finished work meets an audience.

From a visual point of view, "sada" and "mada" are built from almost identical letterforms, mirrored and rearranged, rather than drawn from scratch as two separate typefaces. Or to put it another way, one looks like the echo of another. This means the relationship between the two spaces doesn't need to be hammered home: it's immediately, instinctively obvious.

At a deeper level, there's a sense of culture and history baked into their DNA. Both names carry the letter D, which has been lifted from the existing Doha Design District symbol, while the other letterforms are inspired by the architecture of Msheireb, the downtown Doha district the whole scheme sits within.

Again, this works elegantly in making the whole brand architecture work harmoniously together. Every curve and notch in the wordmarks echoes something structural in the area, making them feel like a natural part of their surroundings, rather than something tagged on.

Key takeaway

Here's what I think anyone working on a sub-brand can learn from this. It's terribly easy, especially when you're on a tight deadline, to go with the obvious solutions to making multiple brands work together. Use the same typeface, the same colour, the same grid system. And bosh! You have a unified system. Well, kinda.

This approach might look good in a presentation, but in the real world, where your designs are having to live, breathe and do their work, they run the risk of looking like an afterthought, stapled on to the parent brand rather than being an organic part of it.

What Pentagram did here was different. Rather than seeing the existing brand at surface level—the type, the colours—they delved deep into its ethos instead, and located the connective tissue that would make the new sub-brands feel naturally part of it.

The result? No one has to stand there explaining that Sada and Mada are part of the Doha Design District. It's just obvious. And that's the job.

In crafting a new identity for itself, the Bath-based agency focused on fundamentals, rather than just slick visuals.

If you've worked in an agency for a while, you'll recognise the pattern. After a few years in business, you've got a lot of work under your belt, some of which your clients actually allow you to share. But each time you upload a new case study, a small part of you inwardly cries.

What once felt like a cutting-edge website now feels a little listless and flat. You put so much work into these things for other people; you think, why can't you give your own studio the same level of love?

But there's a danger lurking here. While we know what's good for others, we don't always know what's good for ourselves. Rather than having a proper strategy for an internal rebrand, it's tempting to just rush in and refresh everything to look buzzing, colourful and cool.

Yet while that might give you a short-term high, this kind of approach typically builds up trouble for the future. Because what's visually on-trend right now will seem just as dated a few years from now. And if there's no underlying strategy or goal behind your agency rebrand, it's destined to die on the vine.

Which is why it's good to hear that not only has Bath-based branding agency Thisaway rebranded, but they've done so on the basis of something more grounded than "make everything look shiny and cool". The foundation, instead, is a promise to clients and their customers.

They've titled this new positioning "Branding You Can Believe In". We chatted to founder Graeme Cook to find out more.

Bold and confident

"We've been talking about rebranding for around three years," he begins, "but we started the actual process over a year ago. We felt like we had outgrown the previous brand, and our approach, point of view and experience were no longer reflected in it."

Having delivered some big projects for well-known clients such as Team GB and The Jockey Club, and picked up a few awards along the way, they wanted to project a bolder and more confident face to the world. But at the same time, they recognised that without their clients, they'd be nothing. So first, they went to exactly those clients and asked for honest feedback.

"We just asked them why they chose us, what we were good at, where we could improve," recalls Graeme. "What struck us was how simple some of the responses were. Things like: we listen, there are no egos, we're collaborative and communicative. There wasn't a big 'wow' moment, but it reinforced our gut feel for our direction of travel."

It's exactly the kind of honesty, in other words, that's helped build the business. "We're not snake oil salespeople," he stresses. "We don't deal in bullshit or pseudo-marketing speak. And we're not giving our latest 'hot take' on LinkedIn every week. We tell it like it is."

Truth & Dare

With that in mind, the team wanted the identity to reflect the principle of 'Branding You Can Believe In' and the honesty it brings. "We've seen some agencies go down an almost sci-fi or futuristic route with their rebrands," Graeme reflects. "But we wanted to feel more grounded, direct and no-nonsense, with hints of charm, intelligence and personality scattered throughout."

That feedback fed directly into the agency's new operating philosophy, "Truth & Dare", which sits behind the "Branding You Can Believe In" promise as the "how" to its "what".

"Truth" is all about how the team will talk to a client, its stakeholders and its audiences until a big idea emerges that's grounded in what people actually said. "Dare" is what happens next: using that idea as a springboard to push a brand as far as possible, both visually and verbally. "Truth & Dare" subverts the usual phrase "Truth or Dare" to emphasise that Thisaway pairs research with risk, rather than treating them as separate.

Visual strategy

Bold typography and a minimal colour palette help to communicate this directness, and the result is a relatively pared-back identity that lets the work be the focus, while still reflecting the agency's approach. It's a tricky balance to pull off, but it very much feels like they've nailed it.

Part of that comes from not cutting corners. "We stayed away from anything too AI- or CGI-generated and commissioned illustrator Rob Ball to produce a set of 'mythical' characters that could be used across our website and creds documents," says Graeme. "The idea behind each character is that you may or may not 'believe' they exist. We then brought each one to life with some subtle animation. The hand-drawn nature of the characters felt like a lovely, considered, and crafted element to our identity, and a subtle representation of our thorough approach."

That doesn't mean they're anti-AI in general, though; quite the reverse. "We've utilised it a lot in the concept stages of projects, and it's been really useful in helping to communicate and sell ideas," Graeme reveals. "It's also helped speed up some processes on the strategic side of things in terms of acting like a junior researcher, doing a lot of the grunt work in pulling out interesting insights, etc."

But there are limits. "There still seems to be a big grey area around using AI for final assets that are handed to the client, and I do think there's a bit of scaremongering happening where people are promoting a 'use it or die' mantra. We use it as a tool; it's great at some stuff, but still awful at other stuff!"

Overall, Graeme says, the process of the rebrand has pulled the team together. "Everyone has felt like they have been involved, listened to, and have helped shape what we've developed," he reflects. "It's also transformed our credentials decks and how we present and pitch. We need to ensure we use this as a catalyst, and hopefully our best work is in front of us."

Check out the hottest new typefaces in our monthly roundup.

Summer is fast becoming a memory. We've all had our holidays, switched off our out-of-office replies, and are wondering whether to put a jumper over our T-shirt. And as we power up our laptops once more, there's oodles of typeface goodness to lap up.

This month's releases include a Victorian grotesque revival with a political conscience and a Peignot update from Production Type. There's Castillon, a serif that fuses British and French calligraphic traditions with those from Estonia; Tüpokompanii's Vee arrives as a younger sister to the Bauer Venus of 1907.

The real standout story, though, has to be Exemplar. Göran Söderström began drawing it way back in 1994, before many people reading this article were born. It is now, more than three decades on, complete. To celebrate, he carved its history into marble street signs in Italy. And after all that work, who could deny him that?

1. Autêntica Serif by Sofia Mohr

We've been watching Sofia Mohr's Autêntica superfamily expand across the year with admiration, and this serif release doesn't disappoint. Where Autêntica Sans established the family's rhythm and editorial personality, this new release translates those qualities into something warmer and more sculptural; inspired, she says, by Brazilian Brutalism and its dialogue with landscape and light.

With its bold, rounded serifs, softened corners and fluid terminals that open into subtle drop-like shapes, this is not a standard serif by any means. Six weights and a variable font make it very versatile, and this font could be a good choice to use for branding, packaging, editorial and cultural projects.

2. Exemplar by Göran Söderström

Thirty-two years: that's how long Göran Söderström of Letters from Sweden has been working on Exemplar. He began drawing it in 1994 on a Power Macintosh 7100. Finally, it's complete: five weights with italics, 791 glyphs, supporting Latin, Cyrillic, Greek and Arabic across 370 languages.

To mark the occasion, Letters from Sweden carved the typeface's three-decade history into marble street signs in Pietrasanta, Italy: one sign per decade, per address where each version of the typeface was designed. They even made a short film about it. They're very excited. And rightly so: this is a significant piece of work: a humanist serif that's been lived with, tested, refined and reconsidered across three decades of design practice. Indeed, Exemplar's multilingual scope alone—370 languages!—puts it in a different category from most typefaces.

3. Castillon by Malou Verlomme

We always have high expectations for the work of Malou Verlomme, who co-designed 00 Quatorze, which we covered in December 2025. And we're happy to report that with Castillon, they've been met. Released through 205TF, this serif sits at the intersection of two typographic traditions: British and French; the broad-nib pen and the stone chisel.

The contrast between thick and thin strokes is pronounced, as is the tension between structural capitals and more fluid lowercase forms. As its makers put it: "The serifs seem to waver between lapidary incision and calligraphic stroke", creating a lovely tension that could help bring designs across a number of applications to life. Six weights with matching italics, only slightly inclined and deliberately narrow, complete this confident family.

4. Foundry Kingdom by David Quay and Stuart De Rozario

Three years in the making, Foundry Kingdom is described by designer Stuart De Rozario in unusual terms. "[It] is not champagne, it is a pint of bitter in the local pub," he says. "It is not the King's horse at Ascot, but the drayman's horse hauling beer barrels through narrow streets. It is not spectacle or ceremony, but industrial labour: the quiet dignity of work."

Rooted in the early grotesques of the 19th century, Foundry Kingdom is a homage to that English lineage at the point before it diverged into the German neutrality that eventually led to Helvetica. Within its DNA lie historic forms that were meant to be read quickly and clearly under pressure: railway lettering, newspaper type, hot-metal printing.

Named as a tribute to Isambard Kingdom Brunel, its strokes are heavy, the proportions functional. Meanwhile, details such as bold terminals on the a, c, g, j, r, s, t and y; a two-storey a, and a double-storey g add plenty of character to the mix. Foundry Kingdom is available across fourteen styles from Light to Black.

5. Peignot Jumbo by Cassandre

Peignot is one of the classic display typefaces of the last century. Production Type's House of Cassandre imprint has been stewarding that legacy, and Peignot Jumbo is its latest, carefully considered extension. The concept was a simple one. As Production Type's Deniz Eser Uslu puts it: "There never was an original rounded version of Peignot in the foundry archives, so we decided to make one."

Peignot Jumbo is calibrated for maximum display impact, with all the drama of the original at scale, without any of the compromise at smaller optical sizes. It's a strong choice if you need your typography to be distinctive, whether you're working in a cultural institution, the fashion industry, or in high-impact editorial.

6. Vieno by Teo Tuominen

Vieno is certainly ambitious. In developing it, Spoke's Teo Tuominen took the discipline of Bodoni and Didot as his starting point, then deliberately pursued the contradictions rather than resolving them. The result: a serif that consciously sets organic and mechanical forms against each other, leading to a beautiful tension between tradition and modernity.

Despite these historical inspirations, though, Vieno is also pretty original. As Teo puts it: "The terminals are mechanical, rigid squares, the dots are shaped like a diamond, and sharp angles can be found throughout the character set."

Vieno comes in 15 weights from Extralight to Black, each with matching italics, plus a complementary monospaced style for contrast. The character set includes old-style and tabular figures, ligatures, circled numerals, inferiors, superiors, fractions, alternates and a set of distinctive icons.

7. Novaform by Identity Letters

We all love a 1970s geometric type revival. And better still, Novaform is a more nuanced entry into that genre than most.

It's inspired by an era when classic faces like Kabel and Futura were reimagined with interlocking uppercase ligatures, tremendous x-heights, and a boldness calibrated for display.

As Identity Letters point out, though: "These hallmarks of the phototypesetting era were exclusively designed for display use." By contrast, Novaform has been designed to be more approachable, look more natural and read well in body text.

Ten weights, stylistic sets, hallmark ligatures and a Unicase mode let designers dial up or dial down the showiness as required. The Unicase mode, in particular, makes the typeface's most distinctive quality available as a choice, not a constraint.

8. Raimundo by Enrique Hernández

Raimundo was designed by Enrique Hernández, the father of one of Latinotype's founders, and this familial link seems to have added an extra layer of warmth to its DNA. Type designer Jorge Cisterna describes it as "that friend who gives you straight advice with a pat on the back. A raspy, confident voice that always has a joke behind every line."

Sitting somewhere between geometric and grotesque, the font features rounded forms, open counters and a weight range that moves from quiet to loud, while alternate forms for a, e and g allow the tone to shift from neutral to expressive in small, controlled increments.

The 541-glyph character set includes typographic emoticons, and not by accident: this is a consumer-facing typeface, not a corporate one. Eight weights from ExtraLight to ExtraBold make it a strong choice for food retail, packaging, digital products and brand identities.

9. Arpeggio by Paulo Goode

Paulo Goode, whose typeface Raxmus we featured in our May roundup, returns with a typeface that's very, very different. Where Raxmus was flared and stone-carved, Arpeggio is a transitional serif; warm, readable and disciplined. It could serve as a workable alternative to Baskerville; not to mention Caslon, Mrs Eaves, Georgia, Perpetua and Bookman.

Described by Paul as "an original text typeface that balances disciplined rhythm with expressive character", it oozes clarity and confidence in the text weights whilst the Display collection amplifies the characterful nuances with sharpened forms, graceful swashes and exuberant flourishes. A strong choice for books, magazine design or a luxury brand identity.

There are twenty-seven fonts in all across Thin to Black weights, with 500+ glyphs covering all Latin European languages. Variable fonts are available on request.

10. The Henston by Elena Genova

Elena Genova of My Creative Land, whose typeface Differently was featured in our July round-up, returns with a flared serif inspired by the incised letterform tradition exemplified by Berthold Wolpe's Albertus and Hermann Zapf's Optima. The design is subtle enough for display, whilst maintaining legibility at subhead and text sizes.

The companion italics draw on calligraphy, and there's a well-chosen selection of ligatures, swash capitals, alternates and stylistic sets. There are two widths, each with eight weights from Thin to Black, with true italics included in Regular. This would be a good choice for a brand website, a magazine cover or a book cover.

11. Partiche by Richard Lipton

Created by Richard Lipton, who's been designing type for more than 40 years, Partiche is an expressive sans with a calligraphic eye. It was inspired by the graphic sensibility of Seymour Chwast, the Push Pin Studios co-founder whose mid-century work was characterised by wit, warmth and visual intelligence.

The details Lipton takes from that source are specific: wedge-shaped terminals, sculptural spurs, unexpected details. On the surface, Partiche looks monolinear, but closer inspection reveals the calligraphic thinking underneath. Small caps and a purposeful set of alternates make this font a good choice when a design needs both character and utility.

12. GRX by Daniel McQueen and Bouk Ra

The latest typeface from The Designers Foundry is built across four sub-families: GRX, GRX Raw, GRX Poster and GRX Poster Raw. The base GRX contrasts bold, rugged serifs with controlled strokes. Raw adds rough texture inside the letterforms, giving the type a handmade weight. Poster sharpens the terminals and amplifies the contrast between thick and thin. And Poster Raw combines both directions simultaneously.

There are five weights per sub-family, and built-in stylistic sets and discretionary ligatures for further expressive control: 40 styles in total. The idea is to give creative latitude while retaining a level of formality. The Poster Raw styles in particular have a graphic intensity that would work well in editorial and poster design.

13. Vee by Laura Pappa and Tüpokompanii

Vee draws inspiration from Venus, a sans-serif typeface family released by the Bauer Type Foundry in 1907 that was popular throughout the first half of the 20th century. Having worked with Venus herself, graphic designer Laura Pappa was eager to develop a typeface that references its distinctive character while introducing new qualities of its own.

A collaboration between Laura and Estonian type studio Tüpokompanii, Vee is described as "Venus' younger, more mischievous sister." To accompany its release, Tüpokompanii published a print companion called "Let yourself be bad at things": a conversation between the foundry and Pappa about the origins of their working process, the development of Vee, and the values embedded in their typefaces. It's a thoughtful pairing of typeface and text, and suggests a foundry that thinks carefully.

14. Estelar Variable by Mauricio Zanon

Estelar came out of a sketch. Mauricio Zanon of Zanon Studio, based in Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil, was working on a visual identity project that required a handful of modularly designed letters, and something in those early letterforms suggested a typeface rather than a logotype. Estelar grew from there, developed through the FontePro course from Plau, and ultimately became Zanon Studio's first commercial type release.

The design sits at the intersection of futuristic and calligraphic: technological characteristics softened by a handwritten quality that prevents it from feeling cold or mechanical. A variable axis covering weight and slant, plus 16 individual static weights from Thin to ExtraBold, 400 glyphs, and support for 95 languages give it plenty of range. A good choice for logos, impactful titles and websites.

15. YJ Handful of Sunshine by Yenty Jap

Aussie designer Yenty Jap closes this month's round-up with something welcoming and cheerful. YJ Handful of Sunshine is a hand-drawn display typeface with two character sets (Standard and Stylistic Alternates). It's designed to bring a calm, human handwriting voice into modern branding, and is inspired by everyday writing, journaling and note-taking.

The strokes are light and relaxed, with rounded terminals that keep the texture soft. Rhythm is loose but controlled, giving each word a natural flow without losing clarity. Spacing is open, allowing text to breathe in menus, packaging, and signage. Proportions stay steady across the alphabet, creating a handwriting style that feels warm, modern, and human.

This font would be a good choice for use in hospitality, lifestyle, and boutique branding, and more broadly, for anyone trying to give their designs a warm, handmade feel.

A new Norfolk exhibition captures young British champions at home in their living rooms.

Think about photographing sports professionally, and a certain type of image comes to mind. An athlete in action, typically mid-air, sweat beads and straining muscles frozen in a moment in time. The split-second between drama and failure, evoking all the passion, all the intensity, of the sport in one dramatic image.

But that's not everything that taking part in a sport entails. It's not even most of it.

Yes, that dramatic moment might be what you're working towards. But the "working towards" matters too: it's where the real battle of a sportsperson actually takes place. And that's exactly what award-winning artist and documentary photographer Debby Besford's decade-long project focuses on instead.

Away from the arena

Now on show in an exhibition in Norfolk titled The Art of Roller Skating, Debby's images take these girls away from the rink and into the domestic setting. And in doing so, they provide a whole new perspective on these sporting champions.

It's a subject Debby has intimate knowledge of. Having grown up in Great Yarmouth, as a teenager she trained as an artistic roller skater and travelled all over the country to competitions. Later on, became a national skating judge.

For the past decade, she has been creatively documenting the journeys of young roller skaters based in East Anglia as they train and develop their skills towards British and World Championship level.

In these pictures, the girls don the glittering, sequinned costumes they skate in. But rather than standing at a rink barrier, Debby's placed them on their parents' beige carpets, in front of floral wallpaper, next to the TV, or a chest of drawers.

The juxtaposition is instant and arresting. These spectacular costumes, designed to be visible and entrancing from the furthest seat in the arena, look decidedly odd when surrounded by the ordinary clutter of a teenage bedroom. The scene sits awkwardly between school photo and fashion editorial, and it's exactly this sense of unease that makes these pictures so compelling.

Deep heritage

From 26 September until April, more than 40 of these photographs go on show at Time and Tide Museum in Great Yarmouth, in an exhibition called The Art of Roller Skating. It's a place with deep skating heritage: Gorleston Rollerdrome, the Winter Gardens, and now the Breydon Arena all feature in the town's story, which continues today through the Retro Skating Academy.

And yet artistic roller skating has long been undervalued by the culture at large. From figure work to free skating and disco routines, it's a hugely demanding sport, but lives permanently in ice skating's shadow.

The exhibition's other strand, The Jump Series, is pure spectacle that aims to right that balance. These still images and slow-motion videos capture each skater rotating in mid-air, revealing their physical strength, emotion and intense determination in the pursuit of "the perfect jump".

The show also includes a full archive: posters, programmes, newspaper cuttings and championship sportswear stretching back to the 1960s, tracing the sport's 1970s and 80s heyday and its particular appeal around Great Yarmouth.

This historical context helps us connect further with Debby's portraits and make the case that this often-overlooked sporting culture deserves as much attention as the more fashionable ones.

Got a sentence that's keeping you awake at night? Here's how to reclaim your confidence.

No one likes to be criticised. But it can sting even worse when it comes from a client who doesn't understand the first thing about what you do. So if you ever see a group of designers, illustrators or art directors gather together, it won't be long before they start sharing horror stories of clients from hell.

Sometimes, though, getting client feedback off your chest isn't enough. It starts to bury itself, deep down in your brain. And it doesn't matter how successful you get in your career; it never quite goes away.

One thing that can help is to recognise it's not just you; thousands of your fellow creatives have probably had similar things said to them, for reasons that have more to do with the client than their actual work.

So we asked the Creative Boom community to share their client feedback horror stories, and there was no shortage of replies. You can view the full discussions on LinkedIn and our own creative network The Studio. In the meantime, we've selected seven of the most common types below, along with some practical ways to respond.

1. The pre-emptive threat

The feedback: Lee Davies, creative strategy director at Peter and Paul, was once told: "I just want you to be clear: if the final work ends up looking like what you've presented this week, I am going to be extremely unhappy."

What's behind it: This is not critique; this is fear cosplaying as authority. The client is nervous about their boss, their stakeholders, their own standing. Not you or your ideas.

How to respond Rather than getting defensive, be the bigger person. Stay calm and confident. They are being weak, so you have to be the strong one here. Try to find out who else needs to sign off, what they're worried that person will say, and how you can help ease their fears.

2. "Can you make it look less designed?"

The feedback: It's one of the most common "complaints" creatives shared with us: a client asking for the work to look less than professional, even though they hired a professional to make it!

What's behind it: As brand strategist Richard Davis puts it: "Often the problem isn't the design itself, but that the client hasn't yet found the words for the feeling or business concern underneath the feedback."

How to respond: There's usually an underlying fear which you'll need to draw out. Ask not what something "less designed" would look like, but what it would let them do that this version doesn't. For example, would it feel more approachable, seem cheaper, look less corporate? Questions like this will help uncover what they're really worried about (even if they don't know it themselves yet).

3. The Canva comparison

The feedback: "One thing that still haunts me," says graphic designer Max Mann, "is when a head of marketing said to me: 'It looks like I can do this in Canva, do it again'." Another common niggle is when clients mock up their own version in Canva first.

What's behind it: Clients typically take this approach because they have no idea what's involved in crafting a professional design (as opposed to slapping some text onto a template) and think they can do better.

How to respond: Bury that flash of anger, and save it for that pub conversation later. Remain calm and patient, and avoid the impulse to be patronising. Walk them through what the design process actually involves, and "show your working", as they used to say with maths homework at school.

For example, you might show them the options you rejected and why (which will soften the blow when you reject their Canva efforts), explain the demands of accessibility and the need for brand systems, and so on. Don't drown them in jargon, but convey how this stuff is more complicated than they think.

4. The phantom budget

The feedback: Marketing director Claire Mcdivitt describes a familiar trap. "The client says: 'We haven't got a budget in mind.' So you spend ages developing ideas, working out how to make them and putting together different options at different price points.

"Then they come back and say: 'They're all far too expensive.' Turns out there was a budget. You just had to design past it to find out."

What’s behind it: Why would clients withhold a budget? Surely it would save time and effort to declare it up front? It's sometimes out of embarrassment, sometimes out of caution… but often they just don't know what design costs, and don't want to tip their hand.

How to respond: Firmly ask for a figure upfront. If they say they don't know, share ballpark costs from comparable past projects, so they at least have an idea what they're getting into. Then keep pressing them to share an estimate before getting into creative work and wasting everybody's time.

5. "I'll know it when I see it"

The feedback: This phrase came up again and again in our discussions, and it's a real red flag. As creative coach Vicki Lovegrove recalls about one project, "Despite several changes in the brief, lots of visuals, the client never did 'see it'. We parted ways. Months later, I saw what had been done; it was just a word in Arial."

What's behind it: This phrase sounds confident, but in truth it's usually a sign of weakness. The client doesn't know what they want and is hoping your hard work will somehow, magically, help them find it.

How to respond: Rather than crafting a full concept, slow the process down and limit yourself to smaller, easier steps. You might, for instance, pull together a spread of references and ask the client to react to each one in a sentence or two. Once you've got a sense of the direction they want to go in, sketch something small and rough, and again check it against their reaction before you go further.

6. Feedback by committee

The feedback: Illustrator Kotryna Zukauskaite was once told about a picture of a tall building: "Some people at the office thought it looked a little phallic." Richard Lowes, creative director at Punch Hospitality, remembers this piece of feedback from the ex-chairman of a major football club: "My wife wants you to make the owl look more scary and angry. Yours is not scary or angry."

What's behind it: Feedback filtered through anonymous colleagues, partners or relatives is a way that clients can avoid making a decision themselves and also insulate themselves from criticism, because they're not really sharing their own opinion, just quoting others (who typically aren't in the room).

How to respond: Don't just take comments like this as read. Politely ask whether you can hear directly from whoever raised it. If that's not possible (it probably won't be), ask the person actually sitting in the room whether they agree, and why.

7. Damning with faint praise

The feedback: Christina Cooksey, founder of Ceiling Train, remembers one line above all others: "'Approved with disappointment.' Fifteen years later, and it haunts me to this day." Lukewarm 'approval' like this can be worse than total rejection, because there's no obvious way forward.

What's behind it: The client might have personal issues that they need to take out on someone else. The client may just be a bully who likes intimidating people. Or the client may just be weak, indecisive and sick of the whole process.

How to respond: It's tempting to just take the money and walk on. But if Christina is still bothered by it 15 years on, chances are you will be too. So schedule a proper meeting, and ask directly what would have made it an enthusiastic yes rather than a disappointed one. Make it clear you're not fishing for praise but looking for a way to improve in future.

You may unearth something that leads to a better understanding of the actual problem, and an easy fix. Or you may not… but at least you'll have done everything you can. And that in itself will probably help you sleep better at night.

It's not about you; it's about a broken business culture.

You've spent a lot of time, effort and emotional energy forging a working relationship. It's all going well. Then… nothing. The founder who said they loved your first concept simply vanishes. A marketing lead who's briefed you thoroughly and has promised a purchase order suddenly leaves you high and dry.

It's a horrible situation to be in. From a financial standpoint alone, it can be crippling. But more fundamentally, you also start to doubt yourself. Was the quote too high? Were the concepts lame? Did they find someone cheaper, or use AI? Did you have some food on your face during the Zoom call that everyone was too polite to point out?

Horrific, right? But here's what we've learned from our community on LinkedIn and Instagram. In 2026, ghosting has become systemic. So you shouldn't take it personally. Because it's not really about you at all.

Why silence has become the default

"I've seen a lot of this so far this year, and it can feel really hollow at times," says director and cinematographer Rob Pinney. "I'm still getting a good number of approaches for new projects, but many more of those now end up with a dead email chain than before."

So what's behind the trend? "There seems to be a lot more budget hesitancy right now," Rob suggests. "And I suspect some of that is to do with clients weighing up that potential spend on video production, in my case, versus what they could do with it elsewhere, including with AI tools."

Film director Farai Dube has had similar experiences. "It's a lot of stop and start," he says. "When you're at the start of the conversation, there's actually a budget, but that's in jeopardy depending on sales and generally how much money's coming in. I get that: the part that's frustrating is keeping you on the hook. I'd rather have clarity upfront."

Yet it's not just cash-strapped clients who are guilty of ghosting. Creative director Rich Holt, for instance, complains about "recruiters who appeal for specific people to contact them—even though they're supposed to know the industry and have CVs on their desk already—and then just never reply." Director and lecturer Luke Tonge, meanwhile, calls out: "folks not replying when you invite them to speak at an event. It can hold up planning for weeks and even months."

So why does ghosting seem to be getting so much worse these days?

The fear factor

Graphic designer and photo retoucher Sandrine Bascouert reckons there's something deeper going on than just laziness or poor organisation. "I think some people are afraid of communication as a whole," she says. "Ghosting has become a way to avoid normal conversations where there could be feelings hurt and disappointment."

That certainly chimes with my experience as a member of Generation X. When I first entered journalism in the 1990s, almost the entire job was phoning people. As long as you were polite and respectful, everyone was happy to chat.

By around the mid-2000s, though, I noticed that many creatives under 30 were screening their calls and wouldn't pick up if they didn't know the caller personally, even if they were actively trying to promote themselves and their work, which never made any sense to me.

Eventually I admitted defeat, and switched to email. But by the mid-2010s, many creatives were keeping their emails private—despite, again, ostensibly wanting self-promotion—and I had to start relying on social media DMs instead.

In 2026, many of those creatives are now seniors and CEOs. So it's no surprise to me that some might lack the ability to have difficult conversations, and not be willing to put in the emotional labour when times get difficult. I don't wish to generalise about an entire generation, of course. But still.

Good reason or bad actor?

Poor communication skills, though, are only one reason for ghosting: there are plenty more. If we're being generous, for instance, we might assume that there's been something like a family emergency, and the other party just doesn't have the capacity to even open their inbox right now.

At the other end of the spectrum, some people can just be dicks. We've all heard of companies who interview people, ask for their ideas, and then simply steal them. There was never any job, freelance work or collaboration opportunity in the first place. It was all a scam.

Then there are those who sit somewhere in the middle, who aren't malicious, but just fail to cope. That doesn't help you, of course. As designer Nicholas Robb points out: "It starts to feel unfair after you've done a couple of calls with the stakeholders, bordering on consultation to help them scope it up. It would take 30 seconds to email back and say 'not interested + a reason why'."

Yet as an entrepreneur himself, he can also empathise. "I think business owners in particular are just so overwhelmed these days that they can't afford the time or mental space to do even that," he reflects. "So I try not to take it personally."

How we should respond

Other than not beating yourself up for being ghosted, though, what can you practically do?

As a rule of thumb, designer Alexander Clark has developed a script. "After two or three of my emails go unreplied, I write this", he says, "Since I've not heard from you, I'll be pausing this and moving forward with other projects. Please let me know when you'd like to proceed or if you've changed priorities." It usually yields a response within a day."

This is a good strategy because it removes all ambiguity. You've stopped chasing them (giving them the power) and are about to close the door (giving you the power). They have no choice but to make a decision. At this point, silence and doing nothing becomes a decision in itself.

And if that's what happens? Then move on, feeling empowered that you took control of the situation. And remember: their silence is not a poor reflection on you; it's a poor reflection on their lack of professionalism and communication skills.

Setting boundaries upfront

Ultimately, prevention is always better than cure. So if you want to avoid getting ghosted, it's always good to set boundaries upfront, such as a deadline for responding to proposals. That might seem a little overbearing, but remember that clients and employers are often super-busy, and a deadline can actually be helpful for them too.

Content creator Jacob Elias Nurse offers a further suggestion: have a lot of plates spinning. "One thing I've learned from my nine months of being a full-time freelancer is that keeping busy helps you not worry too much about replies from companies that want to dangle a carrot in your face," he explains. "If you keep grinding at your craft, the money will follow."

He even finds a way to frame ghosting as a positive. As he puts it: "Their disrespect isn't a reflection of your craft or your quote. If anything, it helps you weed out who you want as a client and who you don't want as one."

Founder and creative director Kirsten Murray agrees. "A person who ghosts you is not someone you want to work with," she says. "Mutual respect and open communication make for the best creative partnerships."

So maybe that's the main takeaway. Ghosting sucks, for sure, but it's not necessarily a calamity. In fact, in the long term, it could be a good thing: saving you from a nightmare client and freeing you up to find a good'un instead.

Templo took a highly original approach to branding a new cultural space for the deaf community, taking inspiration from the community itself.

Glance at a typical logo and one question typically comes to a designer's mind: "What font are they using?" Then maybe a supplementary question: "Is it a font I know, or a custom typeface?" Yet when it comes to the visual identity crafted by Templo for DeafCity Hub, things work very differently.

Here, the letters sit inside a chain of wobbly, bead-like circles. And they're actually based on the shapes and gestures made by hands when communicating in British Sign Language. In other words, the shape wasn't simply drawn or designed on a screen. It was captured from real hand movements.

Authentic from the ground up

Templo, which describes itself as a cause-led branding and communications agency, used motion-tracking technology to capture hand movements inspired by British Sign Language. They then used those movements to create the visual language of the new identity.

The instinct then might have been to smooth out said shapes and to streamline the design into something that looked slick and professional. But Templo's designers knew better than that. They knew that slightly off-key wonkiness was key to creating something that felt real and authentic.

In a way, their approach was similar to a typical logo design process, just in reverse. Usually, designers create something on screen, from pixels, that looks slick and geometrically precise, but maybe lacks soul. And so it's tweaked, and tweaked some more, until it feels a little more grounded and expressive.

In this case, though, Templo started with something that was literally expressive–human hands signing a phrase—and built the lettering for the logo, along with other elements of the visual identity, from that. And really, how much more authentic can you get?

As Amanprit Arnold, founder of DeafCity Hub & Disability Urbanism, puts it: "Movement, 3D spatial language, and visual rhythm are at the heart of deaf culture and communication. This bright, joyful motion identity [...] brings our authentically co-designed co- working and cultural space to life across every touchpoint."

Another thing that jumps out is the colour. DeafCity Hub brings together a hot pink and a bright orange. Chosen specifically to stand out against other deaf-led brands, it's a noisy, slightly crass combination you don't often see in identities for charitable organisations.

And that, to me, is why it works so well. I didn't realise how used I'd become to worthy causes using soft, muted colours. But seeing the opposite—a vibrant palette that would feel at home on a flyer for a nightclub—I think maybe others should take a leaf out of this book.

Key takeaway

The takeaway here isn't to go buy motion-capture software and copy what Templo have done for DeafCity Hub. Instead, we can all be inspired by what they've done more broadly: to approach something as standard as logo design and reinvent it on the fly. And in the process, to craft something for the client that stands out, in all the right ways.

That might, admittedly, cause a few production headaches along the way. After all, while many logos can just be typed, this identity is built around captured hand movements rather than a conventional typeface. So how does that work in practice, when the brand needs to appear on everything from a billboard to a sticker or social post?

Even this potential niggle, though, means the brand is making a statement. Basing the logo on signed communication rather than conventional typography puts the deaf community's own way of communicating at the centre of the brand. Because the best answer to "how can we make this feel authentic" is sometimes just to stop designing and start listening.

Antwerp studio WeWantMore's refresh of BRU trades a second-long shelf glance for a seat at the table.

It's become such a cliché in packaging design, you'd think it was law. Everything needs to be optimised for that single second a shopper glances at it on a shelf. It needs to stand out from the crowd, lure people in. You only have the time it takes for a heart to beat, so don't waste it. Throw everything you have into drawing the eye.

All of which makes a lot of sense. But it's useful to remember that not every single product is fighting for attention from tired and time-poor supermarket shoppers. Sometimes, packaging needs to do very different things.

Sparkling water is a great example. Many of us go to the supermarket for the low-cost stuff, where we expect them to pile it high and sell it cheap. But when we're in a restaurant, the design of a bottle—whether it's wine or water—is an important part of the experience.

In short, we want something to visually elevate our evening out. And that's something Belgian sparkling water brand BRU, which has long been associated with fine dining, understood well.

Who is BRU?

BRU can trace its origins back to the 17th century, when it started bottling the natural spring water of Stoumont, in the Ardennes. In modern times, it's been commercialised as a table water brand through the Spadel group, with a name shortened from the French word bruisser (meaning to rustle or murmur).

What is stylish and sophisticated at one time, though, can be perceived as old-hat and boring a few decades on. And in recent years, however, BRU had become increasingly perceived in this way.

WeWantMore, a creative agency founded in Antwerp in 2006, set out to change that, repositioning it "from a restaurant staple to the finishing touch for the table, designed for every meaningful moment shared around food." An important aspect of that was shifting the focus of the packaging from trying to stand out in the shop to being something people would be proud to display on their table.

Calm and disciplined

The new packaging does a great job of putting that idea into practice. The tone is calmer, with a colour palette centred around a deep navy blue that both feels refined and evokes obvious associations with water.

The existing brand emblem of a leaping stag is now sleek and sculptural, while avoiding the "minimise everything down to nothing" trend that might have robbed it of all its distinctiveness. And while the lettering is colourful and decorative, it never overwhelms the label, thanks to a disciplined approach to the use of white space.

The result is a design that delivers exactly what WeWantMore set out to achieve. A bottle that people would actively want in front of them while eating, and a brand slogan, "Some things just belong on the table", to drive it all home.

Key takeaways

For designers in general, I'd say there are a couple of key takeaways from this story. Firstly, don't ever assume what your design needs to do. It might seem obvious to you that something, for example, needs to stand out on the shelves, but maybe it doesn't. Maybe it won't even appear on the shelves at all.

Yes, we all want to dive into making cool things as soon as possible. But before you open that Photoshop document, before you start brainstorming even, you need to be absolutely sure you understand the product, the business behind it, the target audience.

The second lesson, I think, is that heritage is an asset to treasure, but rarely needs to be preserved in aspic. WeWantMore could have kept its stag exactly as it was, or completely ditched it; both approaches would probably have been disastrous.

Instead, they subtly modernised it in a way that didn't alienate fans, but would also attract new ones. That's never an easy task, but if you pull it off as a designer, the world will soon be beating a path to your door.

As part of a campaign titled 'Say It Over a Drink', 25 illustrated coasters are getting pub-goers in the UK talking about debt.

Anyone who's ever worked for government, a public body or a charity will be familiar with the challenge. Your goal is to get people talking about an issue that's typically brushed under the carpet, whether that's menustration, mental health or suicide. But subjects are taboo for a reason. Stick a huge, imposing billboard in their face, and they may turn away, or tune it out. Sometimes, then, it's better to come at things from a sideways angle. And here's a great example.

Lowell calls itself Europe's leading credit management company and claims to have helped over 3.5 million customers become debt-free since its founding in 2004. But you can't help people who don't want to be helped. And most of us will know exactly what it's like when you get into seemingly unsustainable debt and feel the overwhelming urge to just bury your head in the sand.

Part of that is not wanting to face up to the problem. Another important part is not wanting the social shame of admitting your problem, which leads to a horrible Catch-22. Opening up to friends is necessary to get the emotional support you need. But the stigma of doing so keeps you trapped in a mental vicious circle.

Lowell's is trying to square that circle with a campaign called Say It Over a Drink. But rather than posters, billboards or TV ads, they're doing things subtly. They've commissioned five illustrators—James Cluer, Emily Birch, Sam Peel, Ery Burns and Becky Mann—to create 25 coasters. Each carries a simple prompt designed to help someone say the first sentence about money they've been avoiding. And they're distributing them across pubs, cafés and restaurants across the UK.

Context is king

So why is that a good move? I think it's all about context. A poster or billboard is normally only glanced at, so it's designed to provoke an instant, powerful reaction. "I want to buy that!" in the case of commerce. "I want to vote for/against that!" in the case of something political. But in a case like this, the instant reaction of the person in debt is just going to be that shame and embarrassment I mentioned earlier. Counterproductive, basically.

A coaster, in contrast, sits on the table in a bar and largely gets ignored. When there's a lull in the conversation, or the person you're out with heads to the loo (and there's no phone reception), you might pick it up and start playing with it, tap it against the table, subconsciously start peeling away at its corner. You probably won't even notice the words on it for a couple of minutes, if at all.

When you do, though, you're probably going to be in the right mindset to take those words in. And if you're having a relaxed and pleasant night out with a friend, you're going to be more likely to actually start talking about it. Makes sense, right?

The idea originally sprang from Lowell's research among its 300 customers, of which one in four said they would rather talk to their family about sex than debt, and 69% would rather have their search history leaked than reveal their bank balance.

Leaving aside how slippery those surveys can be (it all depends on how the questions are asked), that sounds about right. Maybe it's normal to talk about money in some cultures, but in England certainly "I'm a bit skint this month" or "I can't come out till payday" is about as far it'll go.

In that light, these illustrations do a good job of shifting that mindset. There's nothing scary or off-putting in the scenes they depict: a fortune teller, an empty wallet, a person pushing a huge coin up a hill. But they do a good job of setting the scene while the questions they illustrate ("Is debt on your mind lately?", "What's your biggest money worry?", "That debt still stressing you out?") serve as excellent prompts for a society that generally wants to get their mates to open up, but doesn't really know how to go about it.

As John Pears, UK CEO at Lowell, puts it: "A coaster might seem like an unusual place to tackle debt, but that's exactly why it works. It meets people in moments when they're already talking, catching up and connecting. We hope these simple prompts help make it easier for someone to open up, because asking for help often starts with a conversation."

This clever poster turns a sentence into a train journey: a simple but effective design trick, delivered in style.

Let's be honest, we all know what a travel ad looks like. Beautiful scenery, with not a bulldozer or screaming infant in sight? Check. Catchy yet ultimately bland and empty slogan? Check? Smiling, impossibly attractive people? Check.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with that. Holidays for most of us are just a welcome break from everyday life, and a little bit of fantasy never did anyone any harm. And I've got nothing personally against impossibly attractive people; some of my best friends count among their number.

But if you're trying to sell consumers on something they wouldn't normally do, and in fact might be nervous of doing in a foreign country where they don't speak the lingo, you'll need to work a little harder.

That's exactly the challenge that the global brand consultancy We Are Pi, working with social agency Butterfly Effect, were presented with. They were approached by Interrail B.V, the Dutch company behind the European rail travel scheme that makes it cheap and easy to travel across the continent with a special pass.

As well as boosting the scheme, there was also a bit of brand housekeeping to do. Up until this point, Interrail B.V. had two brands for essentially the same rail pass: Interrail for people living in Europe, Eurail for visitors from elsewhere. The latter needed to be folded into the Interrail brand, following the business changing its name from Eurail B.V. to Interrail B.V. earlier in the year.

Better than flying

The campaign indirectly challenges the notion that because flying is quicker, it's better. Instead, it leans into the idea that the longer journey isn't an inconvenience; it's part of the adventure, via a brand concept they've dubbed The Interrail Effect.

This was backed up by a customer survey in which around 70% of Interrail customers said their trip changed how they see the world. A similar number considered the experiences more impactful than other types of travel, and around a quarter considered it much more impactful than other holidays they'd taken.

To get this across visually, the launch poster shows a stylised map of Europe. Running across it is a single yellow line representing a train route; only the stops aren't cities – they're words. Joining them together gives you the sentence: "Realising the best bit is between here and there."

It's a common design trick, but it works because it forces the reader to make a bit of an effort. Had the sentence been instantly legible, it wouldn't make half as much impact.

There's a nice extra touch too: the journey doesn't end with the last word; the line continues, albeit it's now dotted and straight. It's a subtle way to evoke the idea of exploring and making it up as you go along, without beating people over the head with the idea.

Creator-led campaign

Another element of the campaign is a series of short video clips made by 30 creators from the US, Canada, Australia and Europe, who were asked to travel across the continent with Interrail over summer and share their experiences.

These clips sit in a comfortable space between standard YouTube shorts and glossy, cinematic films. The former would have been a bit "So what?", the second would have seemed a bit overblown for a target audience that's likely to be sleeping in the cheapest hostel. The sweet spot they've reached feels, in the words of Goldilocks, just right.

Ultimately, there's nothing particularly new in this campaign, but at the same time, there didn't need to be.

As Özlem Birkalan, chief brand and commercial officer at Interrail, puts it: "'The Interrail Effect' isn't something we invented. It's something travellers have described to us for decades, in their own words, after every journey. What's changing is that we're finally building the brand around it. Not around where people travel, but around what travelling like this does to them."

The campaign launched globally on 10 September in the UK, Australia and the US, and will roll out across a mix of paid, owned and earned channels including paid media, organic social, EDM, partnerships and PR as well as participating creators' own Instagram, TikTok and other social platforms.

Led by Samar Maakaroun, these two identities for a maker space and event space highlight how strong brand architecture is built on discipline, not decoration.

Msheireb Downtown Doha is a planned city in Doha, the capital of Qatar, that's designed to regenerate the historical district of Mushayrib (literally, 'a place to drink water' in Arabic). It's been promoted as being the world's first sustainable downtown regeneration project, and one of the smartest cities on Earth. And Doha Design District (DDD) is its hub for design, innovation, and collaboration.

Director Dana Kazic approached Samar Maakaroun and her team at Pentagram with a challenge: introduce two distinct spaces within the district, while strengthening, rather than fragmenting, the parent brand.

One would be a maker's space dedicated to experimentation and artistic development; the other, an event space that becomes a destination for exhibitions, events, and public engagement. They'd be positioned physically opposite each other.

Striving for connection

It sounds like either a massive challenge or the stuff of nightmares, depending on how much experience you've had dealing with having to juggle the competing demands of brands and sub-brands, not to mention different languages.

In these scenarios, the client typically wants the two sub-brand spaces to feel connected. But in practice, they often get two names that share a typeface and a colour palette, but not much else. The connection is clearly expressed in a brand guideline PDF, yet never really translates to what the public actually sees and feels.

To avoid that scenario, Samar—whose identity for The Mosaic Rooms in London we covered back in April—and her team took the time to get things right. As they put it: "The relationship had to allow equity to move in all directions: from DDD to the sub-brands, between the sub-brands themselves, between languages, and back again into the wider district."

Naming and letter design

Next up came the naming process. The team explored a range of ideas, from letter repetitions connected to the DDD symbol to Arabic words that had a spatial dimension and were easy to say out loud. The main thing was that the names needed to work together naturally and feel like two halves of a whole.

They found the solution in a pair of Arabic words that already had a relationship with each other. Mada, meaning range, reach or possibility, was chosen for the maker's space. Sada, meaning echo, was chosen for the space where finished work meets an audience.

From a visual point of view, "sada" and "mada" are built from almost identical letterforms, mirrored and rearranged, rather than drawn from scratch as two separate typefaces. Or to put it another way, one looks like the echo of another. This means the relationship between the two spaces doesn't need to be hammered home: it's immediately, instinctively obvious.

At a deeper level, there's a sense of culture and history baked into their DNA. Both names carry the letter D, which has been lifted from the existing Doha Design District symbol, while the other letterforms are inspired by the architecture of Msheireb, the downtown Doha district the whole scheme sits within.

Again, this works elegantly in making the whole brand architecture work harmoniously together. Every curve and notch in the wordmarks echoes something structural in the area, making them feel like a natural part of their surroundings, rather than something tagged on.

Key takeaway

Here's what I think anyone working on a sub-brand can learn from this. It's terribly easy, especially when you're on a tight deadline, to go with the obvious solutions to making multiple brands work together. Use the same typeface, the same colour, the same grid system. And bosh! You have a unified system. Well, kinda.

This approach might look good in a presentation, but in the real world, where your designs are having to live, breathe and do their work, they run the risk of looking like an afterthought, stapled on to the parent brand rather than being an organic part of it.

What Pentagram did here was different. Rather than seeing the existing brand at surface level—the type, the colours—they delved deep into its ethos instead, and located the connective tissue that would make the new sub-brands feel naturally part of it.

The result? No one has to stand there explaining that Sada and Mada are part of the Doha Design District. It's just obvious. And that's the job.

In crafting a new identity for itself, the Bath-based agency focused on fundamentals, rather than just slick visuals.

If you've worked in an agency for a while, you'll recognise the pattern. After a few years in business, you've got a lot of work under your belt, some of which your clients actually allow you to share. But each time you upload a new case study, a small part of you inwardly cries.

What once felt like a cutting-edge website now feels a little listless and flat. You put so much work into these things for other people; you think, why can't you give your own studio the same level of love?

But there's a danger lurking here. While we know what's good for others, we don't always know what's good for ourselves. Rather than having a proper strategy for an internal rebrand, it's tempting to just rush in and refresh everything to look buzzing, colourful and cool.

Yet while that might give you a short-term high, this kind of approach typically builds up trouble for the future. Because what's visually on-trend right now will seem just as dated a few years from now. And if there's no underlying strategy or goal behind your agency rebrand, it's destined to die on the vine.

Which is why it's good to hear that not only has Bath-based branding agency Thisaway rebranded, but they've done so on the basis of something more grounded than "make everything look shiny and cool". The foundation, instead, is a promise to clients and their customers.

They've titled this new positioning "Branding You Can Believe In". We chatted to founder Graeme Cook to find out more.

Bold and confident

"We've been talking about rebranding for around three years," he begins, "but we started the actual process over a year ago. We felt like we had outgrown the previous brand, and our approach, point of view and experience were no longer reflected in it."

Having delivered some big projects for well-known clients such as Team GB and The Jockey Club, and picked up a few awards along the way, they wanted to project a bolder and more confident face to the world. But at the same time, they recognised that without their clients, they'd be nothing. So first, they went to exactly those clients and asked for honest feedback.

"We just asked them why they chose us, what we were good at, where we could improve," recalls Graeme. "What struck us was how simple some of the responses were. Things like: we listen, there are no egos, we're collaborative and communicative. There wasn't a big 'wow' moment, but it reinforced our gut feel for our direction of travel."

It's exactly the kind of honesty, in other words, that's helped build the business. "We're not snake oil salespeople," he stresses. "We don't deal in bullshit or pseudo-marketing speak. And we're not giving our latest 'hot take' on LinkedIn every week. We tell it like it is."

Truth & Dare

With that in mind, the team wanted the identity to reflect the principle of 'Branding You Can Believe In' and the honesty it brings. "We've seen some agencies go down an almost sci-fi or futuristic route with their rebrands," Graeme reflects. "But we wanted to feel more grounded, direct and no-nonsense, with hints of charm, intelligence and personality scattered throughout."

That feedback fed directly into the agency's new operating philosophy, "Truth & Dare", which sits behind the "Branding You Can Believe In" promise as the "how" to its "what".

"Truth" is all about how the team will talk to a client, its stakeholders and its audiences until a big idea emerges that's grounded in what people actually said. "Dare" is what happens next: using that idea as a springboard to push a brand as far as possible, both visually and verbally. "Truth & Dare" subverts the usual phrase "Truth or Dare" to emphasise that Thisaway pairs research with risk, rather than treating them as separate.

Visual strategy

Bold typography and a minimal colour palette help to communicate this directness, and the result is a relatively pared-back identity that lets the work be the focus, while still reflecting the agency's approach. It's a tricky balance to pull off, but it very much feels like they've nailed it.

Part of that comes from not cutting corners. "We stayed away from anything too AI- or CGI-generated and commissioned illustrator Rob Ball to produce a set of 'mythical' characters that could be used across our website and creds documents," says Graeme. "The idea behind each character is that you may or may not 'believe' they exist. We then brought each one to life with some subtle animation. The hand-drawn nature of the characters felt like a lovely, considered, and crafted element to our identity, and a subtle representation of our thorough approach."

That doesn't mean they're anti-AI in general, though; quite the reverse. "We've utilised it a lot in the concept stages of projects, and it's been really useful in helping to communicate and sell ideas," Graeme reveals. "It's also helped speed up some processes on the strategic side of things in terms of acting like a junior researcher, doing a lot of the grunt work in pulling out interesting insights, etc."

But there are limits. "There still seems to be a big grey area around using AI for final assets that are handed to the client, and I do think there's a bit of scaremongering happening where people are promoting a 'use it or die' mantra. We use it as a tool; it's great at some stuff, but still awful at other stuff!"

Overall, Graeme says, the process of the rebrand has pulled the team together. "Everyone has felt like they have been involved, listened to, and have helped shape what we've developed," he reflects. "It's also transformed our credentials decks and how we present and pitch. We need to ensure we use this as a catalyst, and hopefully our best work is in front of us."

A new campaign for the black stuff smuggles its most recognisable asset into a single word, and it's a genius move.

Guinness has a new campaign out, and before you've even looked at it, you may be wondering why the design press always gives this brand so much attention. Well, the answer has some quite deep historical roots.

The Irish stout brand actually didn't advertise at all for the first 170 years of its history. Its strict philosophy was that the quality of the beer alone should do the talking. After the end of the First World War, though, a slump in sales meant the family that owned the company finally relented. However, they instituted an equally strict rule: the advertising had to be of the exact same exceptional quality as the beer itself.

That tradition has led to a long and illustrated history for Guinness advertising, and it continues today in the form of LoVely. Delivered by and AMV BBDO, this new out-of-home campaign takes the brand's harp, which has been on its bottle for over 160 years, and incorporates it into its typography.

The idea is simple, yet brilliant. Take the word "Lovely," swap the "v" for the harp mark, and feature it everywhere across the entire brand mix. Once you've seen it in action, it feels as if it might always have been there. As George Hackforth-Jones, global creative director at AMV BBDO, puts it: "Sometimes the best ideas are right in front of you."

It's a great lesson for anyone working with a heritage brand, where the constant dilemma is where to draw the line between modernising (and risk alienating your audience) and being conservative (which risks losing the younger generation coming up).

Context over redesign

The 'LoVely' strategy charts a clever middle course: extending a heritage asset without over-explaining it. While Guinness hasn't redesigned its harp, it has found a new context for the one it already has; a real case of having your cake and eating it.

In this light, the key to making this strategy work is restraint. The harp hasn't been forced or distorted into the lettering in any way: its natural silhouette already resembles a "v" closely enough that it feels natural, not engineered. It's a good principle to follow for any heritage brand extension: finding what's already hiding in an asset is always better than trying to come up with something new.

There's also a callback to "Lovely Day for a Guinness," the brand's long-running ad platform which originated in the 1930s and which was revived last year. As Stephen O'Kelly, global brand director for Guinness at Diageo, puts it: "LoVely gives new life to one of our most famous advertising lines, refreshing Guinness' brand heritage in a way that is timeless, contemporary and relevant across markets and channels."

The photography, too, is executed well. Shot by Dan Burn-Forti and Peter Franklyn Banks, the campaign leans on tightly cropped, authentic-feeling slices of life: muddy wellies at a festival, an arm slung round another's shoulders at a football match, a can nestling under a poncho in the rain.

That broad, everyday approach means the same visual language can stretch from, say, Guinness's sponsorship of the Electric Picnic festival in County Laois, Ireland, to its partnership with the Premier League in England, without them ever feeling like different campaigns.

Strategic challenge

That kind of breadth is a strategic challenge for any global brand, and it's one that a lot of campaigns fail to solve. 'LoVely' succeeds by keeping its visual system loose enough to absorb very different settings, while the harp-as-"v" device stays constant across every application, giving the whole campaign an easily recognisable through-line.

'LoVely' has launched first in Ireland and Great Britain across high-impact out-of-home and digital out-of-home formats, with wider expansion into Africa and Asia-Pacific to follow. Its goal, from what I can tell from the press materials, isn't to reinvent what's already trusted, but to find the one small shift that can bring new people in.

Brands often spend large amounts of time and money on designing a new logo. But Guinness didn't need a new symbol. It just needed to notice the "v" that had been hiding in its harp all along.

The founder of Kwoo Studio discusses his career pivot, his move to another continent, and his approach to self-promotion.

Right now, many of us are contemplating either a career change or a geographical move (or both) as the twin engines of AI and economic contraction threaten the jobs we currently hold dear. And that's a scary prospect, but it's worth remembering that, actually, pivoting mid-career isn't itself a bad thing. People have been doing this for generations, for all sorts of reasons, and sometimes it could be the best thing that ever happened to you.

Kent Wood is currently going through that transition. "I used to think that by 30, you were supposed to have everything figured out in life," he says. "Instead, I moved countries, changed careers, learned motion design and started building a studio."

Having moved from America to England to support his partner, he's set up in business as Kwoo Studio. "My studio creates motion systems for brands," he explains, "essentially taking a brand’s existing static identity and bringing it to life, transforming it into a motion identity."

He's been writing about his experiences on social media and sharing his work, such as his concept case study for a fictional furniture brand, Belo. That's we first spotted him, and it turns out we're not alone.

"Since sharing my story online, I've had a flood of comments, DMs, and emails from people telling me they've recently quit their jobs, moved countries, or changed careers," he tells us. "We're in a time of rapid innovation, and that always brings big change. People of all ages are self-reflecting and rethinking what they truly want their lives to look like, particularly outside of work. My generation, Millennials and Gen Z, are on the front lines of it all, and a lot of us are taking huge risks as a result."

A global odyssey

That same thinking is what brought him to Manchester. "I'm here supporting my partner, who decided to return to academia after a brief stint in the corporate world and take up a new role at the university," he explains. "We eloped to Ireland back in 2022 and had always been open to living in the EU or UK if the right opportunity ever came along."

His path to design, meanwhile, has not been straightforward. Having grown up in the Caribbean, he moved to Florida for university, where he studied kinesiology, the study of human movement. He's since lived in Florida, Texas and back in the Caribbean, where he founded a company distributing wholesale goods to hotels and restaurants.

"In many ways, the reason I eventually left feels familiar to what we're all experiencing in the design industry today," he says. "That business model was constantly shifting, and keeping pace meant working unsustainable hours while navigating shrinking profit margins, rising operational costs, and major supply chain disruptions. As the ground kept moving underfoot, I found myself questioning if I had a future there.

"The cumulative effect of constantly adapting to challenges and facing a model that no longer felt sustainable made me reconsider doing that work long term," he continues. "Around the same time, my partner was offered a role in the UK, so the move here presented an opportunity for a fresh start."

Passion for design

Running his own business was where he first developed a passion for marketing and design. "I had complete creative control," he says. "Pricing, inventory, the business name, the logo, colours, font pairings, imagery—I taught myself to use a DSLR—copywriting, radio ads, storefront graphics, even the website build."

Having previously studied kinesiology, it felt like a full-circle moment when Kent eventually became a motion designer. He's since taken everything he learned from business and brand design into his own studio. "Focusing on motion systems for brands, I've morphed it all into what I call Motion Brand Design," he says. "In my view, it's the future of branding, where modern brand identity extends beyond static guidelines into motion identity systems."

On a personal note, he's found northern England a breath of fresh air. "I'd like to thank all the Northern creatives who have been nothing but welcoming since I started coming out to events," he enthuses. "As a newbie to town, that support has meant the world to me. I hope events like Process, The Northern Design Festival, and Motion North keep growing, and I look forward to becoming more involved as time goes on.

And he's determined to share his journey along the way. "I'm all in on putting yourself out there," he stresses. "You have to be smart about it, of course, making sure what you share aligns with what your brand stands for. But whether creatives should have a digital presence isn't even a debate in my opinion."

Sharing his story

In his case, it's already paid off. "I secured a meeting with a studio up north to walk through my case study and connect with their team of experienced designers," he explains. "Beyond that, sharing my story has helped me meet so many nice people and get on the radar in a place where I didn't really know anyone.

"I've been able to get to know, and even grab a drink with, loads of people in the industry doing amazing things, people I'd never have met if I weren't online. When you've shared your journey, there's a warmth to those introductions; people feel like they already know you, which makes meeting other freelancers and building your network so much easier."

He'd urge anyone in the same boat to do the same. "If you're like me and don't have a huge network of client referrals or agencies keeping you booked, it's the best way to make a name for yourself, market your business and promote your work," he reasons. "It's essentially free to post, for now at least, so we should take full advantage. At the end of the day, it should simply be viewed as your new digital business card."