Independence isn't an aesthetic
Some things can't be art-directed.
Flash.
Harsh light.
A little grain.
Blur?
Turn it up.
Muted colours.
Clean sans serif.
A hint of personality. Playful.
Slightly retro.
Fresh. Well... nostalgic. But fresh. You know the look.
Don’t you?
It’s every independent brand. A bistro. A soda company. That design studio. There’s an aesthetic of independence. And maybe that’s the problem.
Independence isn’t something you signal. It’s something you practise, decision by decision.
Being independent isn’t about making brands that look independent. Or trying to be the most rebellious one in the room. Independence isn’t an art direction. It’s self-discipline. Judgment. The willingness to question yourself.
Maybe that’s why so much of what we call independent ends up looking exactly the same. Not because people are. Because it’s much easier to copy the aesthetic than to sustain the conditions that make it possible.
Anyone can copy the look of independence. Independence itself is another story.
You stake it on the clients you say yes to. And the ones you don’t. On the people you choose to work with. On how you decide to grow your studio. On how much is enough. On the deadlines you accept. On the ideas you publish. And the ones you decide to keep to yourself.
I admire independent people, brands and studios. They have that particular kind of stubbornness. The kind that survives invoices, forecasts and spreadsheets. That’s the kind of independence that earns my respect.
Maybe that’s why I write. I’m not afraid of losing clients because of how I think or where I stand. If anything, my writing does part of the filtering for me. It saves me emails, calls and meetings that should never have happened in the first place.
There are too many thoughtful people who can’t say what they really think. Not because they don’t want to. Because they’ve built businesses that can’t absorb the consequences of saying it.
And I think that’s a terrible loss.
That’s why I consider myself fortunate. I’ve managed to build a business that still lets me make that choice. I know not everyone can.
We often confuse the freedom to do whatever we want with the ability to live with what it costs.
Independence has a price.
If it doesn’t, maybe it’s just indie.
Lines Aja
Brand Strategist & Verbal Identity Consultant — Las Musas®
cultooruido.com