The portfolio of wes stäbler
In a rushing, whirlwind of a branding project I accepted in a fever-dream period on Earth when most of the planet's industry screeched to a halt, but its rent collectors did not, I developed the brand identity for a convincing electronics company whose executives wished to test the limits of ROI.
"Let's run a little experiment," said the CFO to the CEO on a white midwinter morning. Shrugging off the (obviously fake) news of a global pandemic, he continued, "What is the least we can pay a man in China to make a thing that alerts you if it's wet, and how much can we get our fellow Americans to pay for it?"
So, by gluing a battery to an on/off switch to a deafening beeping thingy and encasing it all in white, molded plastic resembling a hockey puck, they briefed me on their first product.
I began crafting the brand for what the CEO insisted be called the "MOLD STOPPER Smart Home Mold Detector." My toddler erupted in a fit of excitement when I brought home the device. She was familiar with the technology, since her favorite bathtub toy operated with a similar mechanism (it quacks when it gets wet).
From the intricate dead-end circuitry that adorned the logo to the wholesome, sometimes disfigured family photos produced by lightning fast AI scattered about their website, I led the design, implementation, and execution of a seamless brand experience that reinforced the company’s status as a pretend leader in unnecessary home technology. And I apologize.
I aimed to reassure customers as they attempted to convince their disapproving spouses that the lightweight, made-near-America device they had just unboxed was a significant investment in their family's health and safety.
Playing the role of a spotter as customers wrestled with the mental gymnastics needed to accept that this beeping piece of plastic was, in fact, a smart device—rather than an overpriced, dumb waste of a day’s pay.
Accepting that my voice would not be heard above the static between the ears of the company's leaders.
Sleeping at night.
Solution numero uno was to make the customer service phone number really hard to find.
I went to college for seven years; I'm not bagging groceries. Besides, one of my teens already took the job. I'll just push through and make this the sharpest package design ever wrapped around a pretend product. I'm not a quitter.
"Wait, rewind that. Does the bleach need to be refrigerated first? What aisle do they keep sunlight on?" Okay, I'm bagging groceries.
The company is not allowed to be a company any more, legally.
I learned that even when the world stops turning, the rich keep looking for ways to take poor folks' money.
Also, one can never have too much toilet paper.
"Can you make it look expensive?" —Junior D., Current Matrix Inc. CEO and Son of the Founder
If you have any feedback, questions, or pointers, I'm all ears! Feel free to discuss this project or anything else you've seen on this site.
