“We Are Happy to Serve You”:

Leslie Buck was a successful businessman and an inspired graphic designer. You may never have heard of him, but I can almost guarantee that you are intimately familiar with one of his classic designs … especially if you live in New York City.

Dubbed the “Anthora” the blue and white paper cup featured Greek vases, steaming coffee cups and the legend “WE ARE HAPPY TO SERVE YOU,” emblazoned in gold.

A Holocaust survivor, Buck was an executive at Sherri Cup in the mid-1960s. According to The New York Times,”Since many of the city’s diners were owned by Greeks, Mr. Buck hit on the idea of a Classical cup in the colors of the Greek flag. Though he had no formal training in art, he executed the design himself. It was an instant success.”

It’s an impressive example of the timelessness of great graphic design.

The Global Impact of Great Graphic Design

Look at the sign on the left. If you’re an American, its meaning is instantly clear: EXIT means GET OUT HERE. It’s obvious, right? The glowing red color conveys urgency and is easily spotted in any commercial space.

But according to Julia Turner, in a fascinating article in Slate, people from other countries are confounded by our familiar icon, and much prefer the green running man on the right.

If you think about it, the graphic design on the right makes a lot more sense. The running man, which was designed by about 40 years ago Yukio Ota, can be understood even by people who can’t read English, including those who interpret the color red as signifying DANGER or STOP (not “go this way to be safe”).

Turner writes, “International designers tend to think our system is illogical and consider our rejection of the running man to be as dumb as our refusal to adopt that other sensible international norm, the metric system.”

But change is inevitable — and good graphic design inevitably triumphs, especial in a word class city like New York, which altered the fire code four years ago to mandate that high-rises include the running man on fire doors on every floor.

A PR War Triggered by a Graphic Design Choice

As my colleague, Tim Kane has said, “People don’t buy brands. They join them.”

This was amply demonstrated this summer when Ikea unleashed a major global brouhaha by swapping its signature typeface — a customized version of Futura — for Verdana, a simpler, cheaper and more widely available font, originally created by Microsoft specifically to be used on the Web. (On his blog, Mattias Åkerberg compares and contrasts the two fonts.)

The reaction was swift and passionate. An article by Lisa Abend in TIME magazine quotes some typical responses: “‘Ikea, stop the Verdana madness!’ pleaded Tokyo's Oliver Reichenstein on Twitter. ‘Words can't describe my disgust,’ spat Ben Cristensen of Melbourne. ‘Horrific,’ lamented Christian Hughes in Dublin.”

In my opinion, the real problem is that Ikea is widely known for the unpretentious and simple — but beautiful — design of its furniture. Its original typeface fit the company’s style and, thus, supported the company’s brand. With the switch to Verdana, Ikea seems, to its some of its most hardcore fans, to be surrendering its originality and credibility for expediency … and violating its brand promise.

The Power of a Well-Managed Brand

My politics are my own business, but I have to give “props” to the team behind the Barack Obama branding initiative.

Not only is the campaign’s red, white and blue logo — an “O” which evokes a rising sun — simple, effective and easily identifiable, but it sometimes seems as if the campaign’s volunteers have been issued copies of a style manual … and they’re actually paying careful attention to it! Campaign communiqués are all set in Gotham, an elegantly simple font that gives a very American look to all the campaign’s communications, including its website.

In the interest of bipartisanship — and because this blog entry should in no way be construed as an endorsement of any political candidate — you should also check out the websites of candidates John McCain and Hillary Clinton for comparison.