Hasta La Ideas

Children’s play areas located beneath the zigzag roof of this community centre by Japanese architect Kengo Kuma have been landscaped to form a hilly indoor terrain that can be clambered over or used as slides (+ slideshow).

The Towada City Plaza community centre by Kengo Kuma & Associates is situated in Towada, a city in Japan’s Aomori Prefecture. The timber-framed building has a steel roof featuring multiple pitches that give it a zigzagging outline.

Strips of Japanese cedar wood partially cover sections of glazing set into the resulting gables. These wooden slats provide a screen for the play areas, offices and kitchens inside.

A playroom and nursery both feature floors created by stacking decreasing disks of pale wood on top of each other.

The bumpy floors, resembling the moguls of a ski slope, create a miniature interior landscape designed to provide children with play areas during inclement weather.

“Since the area has heavy snow during winter children cannot play outside,” the architects told Dezeen. “So we would like to provide a small landscape to climb up, to slide down, and to run around for them.”

“As children grow up, their experience will change because of the various heights of hills,” they added, explaining that the area is also designed to be used as an informal reading room for older infants.

The room were designed without partitions or hard edges to minimise the risk of injury, while glazed interior walls allow guardians to keep an eye on their children.

The two rooms have V-shaped ceilings that project downwards into the space as a result of the building’s pitched-roof form. This roof profile was designed to integrate the large building with the existing architecture in the town.

“We repeated the roofs for the facade so that it could merge into the neighbouring townscape of small houses,” explained the architects.

Pathways that cut from the street through the building converge in an open area beneath a skylight at the centre of the structure.

Narrow slats of cedar, like those used on the facade, run across the glazing to provide shading, while sections of wall surrounding the area are made from glass or draped in curtains of pleated plastic mesh.

“The street in front of the building actually extends into the interior, and is given the name Michi-no-Hiroba (plaza for the street), around which a children’s playroom, cooking studio and tatami room are arranged,” the architects said.

Photography is by Kenta Hasegawa.

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In a sector full of linguistic inflation and manufactured mystique, copywriters struggle to find the right words, writes Nick Asbury in his recent article for CR’s Luxury issue.

Language, and by extension copywriting, has a problem when it comes to luxury.

First, there’s the word ‘luxury’ itself, now used to market everything from biscuits to toilet roll. In most supermarkets, it is possible to fill an entire trolley, presumably gold-plated, with luxury goods: Muller De Luxe Corners, Schwartz Luxury Bread Sauce Mix, Baxters Luxury Mushroom Soup, Young’s Luxury Ocean Pie, Prestige Luxury Three-Ply Toilet Tissue, Freedom Elite Luxury Kitchen Towel.

This devaluing of the word ‘luxury’ has led to the rise of alternative descriptors. There is a useful distinction between ‘premium’ and ‘luxury’ – the former is about paying more for extra features, while the latter has a value that goes beyond its functional benefits. But other distinctions are harder to work out. What is prestige and what is premium? When does prime become superprime? And what the hell is masstige? (Answer: one of those neologisms combining ‘mass appeal’ and ‘prestige’, and a sure sign that a marketing guru somewhere needed a hook for their next presentation).

Then there’s the fact that luxury is a relative concept. Easy as it is to poke fun, there’s an argument that three-ply quilted toilet tissue is indeed a luxury in a country where many struggle to pay the weekly shopping bill, and in a world where millions lack access to basic sanitation. Following this line of thought more comically, you end up at the Monty Python Four Yorkshiremen sketch. Cardboard box? Luxury! I lived in septic tank.

But for all the shifting definitions and relativism, we still know a luxury brand when we see one. The question is how you write about it without sounding either breathless or boring. In luxury copywriting, every view is to-die-for, every texture is sumptuous, every experience is bespoke, every subclause begins with ‘thus’. Bonus luxury points if you can include the word ‘utmost’.

Superprime property marketing is the most culpable example. There was a social media backlash recently against a film for London property development One Blackfriars, which depicted a self-satisfied couple arriving in London in a private helicopter, visiting various ‘exclusive boutiques’ and ‘world-class museums’, before arriving at the ‘elegant, perfectly formed’ building where the gentleman proceeds to impress his partner with a specially commissioned scale model of the building. No doubt aiming for aspirational, the film ends up somewhere between Fifty Shades of Grey and the Ferrero Rocher ambassador’s reception.

The problem is, these superprime property briefs are everywhere. The luxury sector has grown despite (or because of) an era of proclaimed austerity – and for all the expensive production values and glamorous shoots, it’s difficult creative territory to explore. Humour is risky, often challenging exactly the social boundaries that luxury brands need to enforce. You can aim for classic British understatement, but that doesn’t necessarily work for an audience of overseas investors who, according to the prevailing wisdom, expect more glitz and glamour. Or you can try the arty route, evoking rather than selling, but that way a lot of bad poetry lies.

The best answer may be to use as few words as possible. In their book Luxury Strategy, authors Jean-Noel Kapferer and Vincent Bastien make the argument that luxury brands are essentially non-verbal, communicating through imagery and subtle social signalling, rather than rational argument and rhetoric. “The luxury brand is a universe, not a promise. The luxury brand is experiential first and foremost… it is primarily visual and sensory.”

The authors note how luxury brands come from a different cultural tradition. While many of the techniques of modern marketing originate in America and the era of hard sell – and are therefore essentially verbal in origin – luxury brands are a European creation, reliant much more on spectacle and mystique.

From Leagas Delaney’s long-running Patek Philippe campaign

Nevertheless, there are examples of luxury brands using words brilliantly. “You never actually own a Patek Philippe. You merely look after it for the next generation.” There’s a simple line that turned a watch into an heirloom.

One of the most enduring commercial slogans of all time came from De Beers in 1947. “A diamond is forever” was penned by Frances Geraghty, a copywriter who has been described as the original Peggy Olson. But even that is only the second best line De Beers ever produced. Rory Sutherland, of Ogilvy Group UK, has noted the evil brilliance of the 1930s slogan: “How else could a month’s salary last a lifetime?”. Designed to sell engagement rings, it’s a deft act of ‘price anchoring’ that frames a serious financial outlay as a new social norm. The strain only began to show in the 1980s when De Beers updated it to “How else can two months’ salary last a lifetime?”

Diamonds are among many luxury goods that benefit from the Veblen effect: a reversal of the usual law of demand, where goods become desired precisely for being over-priced. The term comes from Thorstein Veblen, an American economist and sociologist who published The Theory of the Leisure Class in 1899 – the same book that gave rise to the phrase ‘conspicuous consumption’. Perhaps it’s the Veblen effect that makes copywriters uncomfortable with most luxury projects. In a discipline that is usually about the subtle application of rhetoric to persuade people to spend money, it’s hard to address an audience that is so irrationally primed to spend more than necessary.

It would be interesting to know what Veblen would make of Apple’s foray into the luxury watch market, including the $17,000 Apple Watch Edition (p26). It has been billed as a radical departure, but it may not be that great a leap for a brand that has adopted many of the techniques of luxury marketing in a mass market context: charismatic founder, highly controlled distribution and pricing, a sense of status attached to a powerful logo. The result is a $700 billion brand that cleverly manages to be both democratic and elitist. Prestige marketing for a mass audience. There should be a word for that.

Nick Asbury is a writer for branding and design, see asburyandasbury.com

Lead image: Holly Wales (hollwales.com)

This article appears in CR’s Luxury May issue, also featuring the Creative Review Annual 2015. Subscribe to CR here.

For the month of May, high-end Parisian store Colette will be selling a ‘design collection’ from McDonald’s which includes T-shirts, bags, scarves, iPhone covers and more. The products actually look really nice, but as a piece of brand messaging, it’s all quite confusing…

The collection is based on the fast food brand’s latest French advertising campaign by TBWA Paris, shown below, which features a set of elegant illustrations of McDonald’s products, including fries, Big Mac and an ice cream sundae. The new campaign is actually a reworking of last year’s Pictograms series of posters, but this time the images of the foodstuff are formed from lots of tiny emoticons, showing thumbs up, hearts or musical notes.

For the Colette collection, McDonald’s has simply transferred the images onto bags and T-shirts. Examples of the products are shown below, and the results are pretty charming, even though many will no doubt baulk at the idea of promoting the golden arches on their clothing.

What is more confusing is how this campaign, and particularly its evolution into a design collection, fits with the wider perception of the McDonald’s brand, which appears to be in a period of flux. It makes sense that McDonald’s would adapt its style (and, famously, its menu) subtly for local markets. Its messaging too varies depending on where you are in the world. In the UK, for example, it’s opted recently for a heartwarming and very British-centred approach, epitomised by a series of ads for the brand’s UK 40th birthday last year, while for the Super Bowl in the US, it launched its sacharrine and much criticised Pay With Lovin’ campaign.

While starkly different in tone, what does unite the UK and US ads is a mainstream approach, whereas over in France, with this work McDonalds is opting instead for an almost minimalist cool.

The decision to launch the Colette collection (which we assume the brand is paying the store to stock for the month), suggests that McDonald’s might have registered the appeal of food-related clothes items from the likes of Lazy Oaf or Vans and decided to design their own line. Like its recent launch of an ‘artisan’ chicken burger in the US (which led a Slate journalist to label the brand “bewildered by modernity”), it could be more evidence of a growing identity crisis in the brand caused by the much talked-about threat from the likes of Chipotle, Shake Shack and Five Guys, who have a more stylish offering. But, to be honest, with so many different types of messaging coming from McDonald’s at the moment, it’s hard to have any certainty about its intentions.

And, ultimately, is design alone enough to bring coolness to McDonald’s? As a champion of great design, we’d like to think so, but in this instance the jury is out.

Toilet brushes and plungers are items best kept close to where they’re used. Not every bathroom has a nearby under-sink cabinet with room to stash this stuff—and not everyone would want to store these items in such a cabinet, anyway. But leaving something like a plunger sitting out isn’t anyone’s idea of cool decor, so well-designed storage products really help.

The Ballo toilet brush, designed by Jozeph Forakis for Normann Copenhagen, is an example of one interesting approach; the brush is stored in a base that disguises what’s being stored. Replacement brush heads as available, so there’s no need to discard the whole product just because a brush wears out or gets too grungy. However, I can also see a child, a cat or a dog treating this as a toy, as it (intentionally) wobbles back and forth, so pet owners and parents of young children might want to look elsewhere. It’s made from injection molded polypropylene.

The Kali toilet brush from Authentics, designed by Doshi Levien, is another product providing discreet storage for the brush. It’s scaled for those with small bathrooms, at 39 cm tall and 13.5 cm wide; for comparison, the Ballo is 50 cm tall and 22 cm wide. Again, replacement brush heads are available. It’s made from ABS.

While some people will want a fully enclosed toilet brush holder, especially those concerned about protecting their children or pets, others will be fine with a holder that is open on one side. The Simplehuman design includes a magnetic collar to secure the brush to the housing, so the brush (and housing) can be moved from one room to another by just holding the handle. This would be nice for anyone who doesn’t always have two free hands, or anyone who would have difficulty bending down to grasp the base.

The brush itself has a crescent shape to clean hard-to-reach areas around the rim; the outer bristles are stiff to scrub at stains. This untraditional design has both fans and critics; some find it harder to use than a simpler brush. Since the handle is stainless steel, this brush won’t work well for those who use a bleach-based cleaner, unless they are good about ensuring all bleach is washed off the handle before stowing it away. 

Toilet brush holders could also be wall-mounted, as with this one from Blomus. The holder comes off the wall bracket for easy cleaning when needed. This design will appeal to those who have small bathrooms with limited floor space—and anyone who likes to keep things off the floor to make cleaning the floor easier. It might also work well to keep the brush away from a pet or small child. 

Renters  might not be allowed to install the recessed Tino brush holder from Componendo, but it’s a nice design for those who don’t have that constraint and who have the available wall space. The advantages of the wall-mounted brush holder apply to this design, too. The brush, the box it sits in, and the pivoting plate can all be readily removed for easy cleaning.

Plungers are something most people prefer to keep hidden away, and plunger holders like these will do the hiding. However, some buyers have complained that the plunger handle is too short and the plunger head is too small. Also, having the lid attached to the plunger makes it somewhat awkward to use.

Mary Jo Kringas created the Sani-Plunge when her first child started to crawl around and put everything he could find into his mouth. She began looking for “a plunger holder that would keep him alive at least into adolescence” and had no luck finding what she wanted: a toilet plunger holder that would hide the plunger completely, would not leak any waste water, and would require significant effort for a toddler to get at the toilet plunger itself. So she created what she needed.

The Sani-Plunge is plastic with a hinged flip-top lid. And there’s no compromise on the plunger itself; it comes with a 16-inch Perfect Plunger which Kringas says is “the best toilet plunger available anywhere.”

Those who don’t feel the need for an enclosed plunger could use something like the Simplehuman design, with the same magnetic collar as the company’s toilet brush. The company put some consideration into the plunger itself; its flange is “designed with a narrow profile to work more efficiently with modern toilets.” 

Of course, the toilet brush and plunger could also be stored together in a single caddy, such as this one from Polder. However, some buyers have complained about the quality: brushes that broke off the handle, plungers that inverted,  and plastic that off-gassed. It’s a good reminder that a design needs to factor in the quality of the materials being used. 

Superior Houseware has a bathroom caddy that stores the toilet brush and plunger together in a closed design, with vented holes to allow the tools to dry out after use. It’s another product that a parent who’s baby-proofing the house might find useful. While the design does a commendable job of fitting both products into a reasonably small container,  the caddy might still be hard to fit into a small bathroom with limited floor space.

The recess-mounted Hy-Dit, made from injection molded plastic, has space for a plunger and a brush (which are included) and even a toilet bowl cleaner. However, the plunger that comes with the Hy-Dit seems to be a sink plunger, not a toilet plunger—if I’m right about that, purchasers may well want to find another plunger that fits. The door is reversible and can therefore be installed on either side, and it can be painted or stained to fit into the rest of the room. 

With the possible exception of the plunger choice, it’s a clever design, allowing all the cleaning products to be stored together—off the floor, out of sight, and away from children and pets.

The New York Times has promoted Cliff Levy to assistant editor. Levy most recently served as associate managing editor. He also oversaw editorial for the NYT Now app.

In a note announcing the news, Times executive editor Dean Baquet wrote Levy will “oversee the presentation of our report on all platforms: mobile, home page, watch. Cliff will also lead an expansion of our rewrite and curation capabilities so we can better leap on fast-breaking news and trends with context and sophistication.”

Levy has been with the Times since 1990. He is a two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize and a three-time winner of the George Polk Award.

Levy has previously served as the Times’ Moscow bureau chief and deputy Metro editor.