- Words
- Harry Bennett
- Reporting
- Olivia Atkins
- —
- Date
- 4 September 2025
- Tags
Adapt or die? When total brand overhauls work, and when they don’t
When heritage brands overhaul their identities, the backlash can be brutal – but should brands care? And is it just part of brand survival? We look into whether total brand resets can work at a time where everything is everywhere all at once.
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A lot of design looks the same at the moment. This isn’t a new observation; after all, only a few years ago, design LinkedIn was rife with people decrying the death of design simply because big fashion houses had turned to sans serif logomarks for a hot minute. Since then, with internet speculation ramping up to be the most intense it’s ever been, we may be hitting the limits of media’s mass saturation and visual hysteria. There’s too much to look at!
We’ve seen a lot of major rebrands recently. Brands need to stand out to survive, and their plan of attack is to either stay steadfast and consistent (as we’ve previously explored) or wipe the slate clean. It’s a risky strategy. After all, familiarity goes a long way and, as Tate & Lyle have found out, people don’t like the contents of their cupboards being messed with. In February 2025, Tate & Lyle rebranded what the Guinness World Records claim to be the oldest ever packaging for a brand, which hadn’t been updated for over 150 years. A staple in households across the UK, the backlash to the change was significant, leading to the brand even apologising for any upset.
The new Lyle’s Golden Syrup packaging stripped away the century-old image of a dead lion and swarm of bees, replacing it with a simple, Adobe-Illustrator-friendly flat graphic of a lion’s head with a single bee alongside significant typographic, chromatic and material changes. The fracas might seem, in retrospect, OTT – the original design is still being used on Tate & Lyle’s traditional tins, with only the squeezy bottles championing this new image – but the outrage behind the change is interesting. Why are people so cross about something so seemingly unimportant? Could it be precisely because the product is so common? There’s something comforting about visual persistence in the world we exist in. Very little has stayed the same for so long. How many products could both you and your grandparents have bought at the same age that look identical? Think of Marmite’s packaging, which has also remained fairly consistent across its 100+ year history. Imagine if they changed it. The uproar would be even worse than Lyle’s!
Copyright © Tate & Lyle
Copyright © Tate & Lyle
“People are hyper-sensitive to rebrands, because they’re already living in a moment of flux.”
James Kirkham
“People are hyper-sensitive to rebrands, because they’re already living in a moment of flux,” James Kirkham, founder and CEO of creative consultancy Iconic says. “Every tech update, every feed shift, every brand in their life feels up for grabs,” he adds, “nostalgia is the anchor now.” As a result, when a familiar landscape shifts too far, it feels off-balance. “It’s a strange fight for stability, or losing something of their past which is rose tinted,” James notes, “versus progressiveness and change.” Resistance to change in the brands we see everyday. Be it tariffs, competition, controversy or otherwise, global uncertainty has led companies to both panic and make drastic changes whilst equally fostering an environment where its audience are hostile to it. See also: Cracker Barrel (which as of last week, was so inundated with backlash that it decided to scrap the whole rebrand and revert to its prior identity).
Copyright © Cracker Barrel
Copyright © Mailchimp
“We’ve tried to balance that newness with our heritage by driving the creation of radical, strange, and compelling work.”
Jeremy Jones
For some brands, being agile enough to continually evolve is integral to their identity, and befitting of its audience. Take Mailchimp; following Collins’ 2018 rebrand, the email marketing and automation platform employed an identity under the guise of the “Expert Absurdist”, defined not only by its surreal illustrations and vibrant colours but by its perpetual, mostly-unrestricted creative growth. In 2020, Mailchimp launched its own in-house creative agency, Wink Creative, as a space to further explore where Collins’ rebrand could take them – here, the company was allowed to mess around whilst still grounding itself in a set of design guardrails that would keep the experimentation coherent. The room to be intentionally inconsistent is a privilege afforded by the creative nature of its audience; as its primary users are marketeers, design studios and in-house designers, reinvention is less of a risk.
“Mailchimp’s unique personality also strikes a chord with consumers in younger demographics,” Jeremy Jones, global head of creative at Wink points out, “who’re increasingly seeking authentic connections with the brands they interact with.” In an era of information oversaturation, Jeremy argues that Mailchimp’s offbeat, personality-driven brand has cultivated loyal connections. We’ll see, however, how the next reinvention goes for Mailchimp, as its future plans seem fairly controversial. The company has been pursuing AI technologies, which it sees as “an opportunity to keep the brand current and innovative”. Jeremy says that the brand looks to leverage AI in a number of ways, including “campaign ideation and creation”, which is currently very tricky ground amongst the creative communities it has built such affinity with – so the company will need to tread delicately.
It’s worth considering whether it’s the Mailchimp brand that has changed, or simply its advertising. Either way, the appearance of the brand today is a brand that’s lively and forward-thinking, something Jeremy puts down to the character of the creative team behind it. “It’s about having that willingness to risk the new and build the extraordinary,” says Jeremy. “We’ve tried to balance that newness with our heritage by driving the creation of radical, strange, and compelling work,” remaining both familiar and “always Mailchimpy” without feeling creatively stale. That said, it raises the question of what’s legitimate “heritage” and what is actually just a bit old. Mailchimp was founded in 2001, so perhaps these terms should be more carefully applied.
Copyright © Mailchimp
Copyright © Mailchimp
Copyright © Jaguar
One place where heritage is definitely appropriate to discuss is when it comes to Jaguar. Unless you were living under a rock, you’ll have caught that in late 2024 the iconic British car company completely overhauled its brand, courtesy of Jaguar Land Rover’s in-house design studio. What followed was quite the firestorm of discourse, a lot of which was typified by ugly, homophobic language – some of the world’s favourite tech autocrats even weighing in. Everyone had an opinion, but the consensus was… split. Despite plenty of news outlets claiming blanket disgust for the stripped-back, lowercase logo and luminous colour choice – the context of the rebrand is a lot more nuanced.
“The noise is the proof – because whether you loved or hated it, you felt it,” James Kirkham says, speaking to the impact of Jaguar’s brand reset. “That’s the point of a rebrand surely, to surface emotions.” It undoubtedly did, given that Jaguar’s rebrand launch film garnered over 2.2 million views. “It means Jaguar cut through the sea of sameness, which is everywhere,” he adds, “ceaseless scrolling through monotonous crap and content which doesn’t touch the sides.” James argues that, done right, these sorts of rebrands can force a conversation about where the company actually sits in the world, even if you don’t like how it looks. As Simon Pegg said, when discussing David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, “sometimes entertainment is an overrated function of art,” and the same can be said for brands. Mass appeal in design is overrated. Not every brand is for everyone. Not everyone can buy a Jaguar. Not everyone needs to like it. Jaguar’s rebrand was an opportunity to present themselves in a genuinely new way, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, just (hopefully) the right people’s.
James suggests that the most significant change for Jaguar is the tone, as well as a more philosophical, visionary shift. “It signals a move into modernist restraint, the same way luxury fashion houses have gone logo-lite,” James says, with Jaguar defining its new, somewhat oxymoronic philosophy as “exuberant modernism”. The most interesting thing about this approach is not the specific philosophy but the fact that the brand has one at all – the visual identity is reflecting a practical shift in how it operates. Jaguar’s reset is something more systemic than corporate brand pillars that ultimately don’t affect people on the shop floor.
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Copyright © Jaguar
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Copyright © Jaguar
Copyright © GF Smith
For other big reinventions, big design resets were rooted in changes to brand context, as seen in the case with paper purveyor GF Smith’s rebrand. With the help of cause-led agency Templo, GF Smith sought a rebrand that would inject more colour, movement and personality into its identity. GF Smith’s global brand director, Ben Watkinson said that “as the world evolves – becoming more digital, immediate and connected – so must we.”
Much like Mailchimp, GF Smith’s audience is creative – meaning something more “out-there” seems like it would be well received. However, that wasn’t the case with the rebrand. The new system intentionally scrapped any sense of legacy or heritage – like removing the 1885 founding date previously shown on brand materials – in favour of a smiley face, bright colours and fun, chunky lettering. The well-intentioned thought underpinning these changes, as Templo’s fellow co-founder and managing director, Anoushka Rodda, explains, came from the agency’s identification of “warmth, character and social conscience” as the heart of the GF Smith brand. Templo took this concept and ran with it, while also considering the ask for something more digital-friendly. It made a very bold move to purposely move in the opposite direction of its traditional, British, luxury aesthetic, towards a more playful, creative tone, risking the loss of its association with time-tested quality. Many people who love the brand hated the rebrand, but many stood up for it; and, as Anoushka says, only time will tell if it was the right move.
Returning to Jaguar, if we take the art direction out of the picture for a moment and look at what the primary touchpoint for a car brand is – its badge – the minimal, less textural typographic approach Jaguar has opted for feels more appropriate. If we look at Vauxhall, for example, or Mini’s rebrand in 2017, both opted for something simpler, like Jaguar. But, in Mini’s case, it went in a more nostalgic direction – and it’s now doing better than ever, in part because it tapped into the vast visual heritage and the stature that affords the brand. Maybe Tate & Lyle’s desire to appeal to a younger audience through simplified graphics and a squeezy bottle is, although well-intentioned, unbefitting. After all, Golden Syrup is pretty vintage, not just in age but use. Perhaps, a younger audience would resonate more if the brand doubled-down on its legacy and reputability. Trader Joe’s infamous tote bag isn’t popular with young people because it looks new, far from it. It’s liked because it feels old. A little bit of mom-and-pop.
Copyright © GF Smith
Copyright © GF Smith
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Copyright © GF Smith
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Copyright © GF Smith
“If a whiskey bottle suddenly looked like a children’s TV broadcaster, there might be a positive stir if it looked cool – but would actual whiskey drinkers want to drink it?”
Harry Bennett
It’s possible that the actual success and failure of a rebrand depends more on its appropriateness than the initial public (or design community) response. Do people want to go to a bakery that looks like a fintech brand, or one that looks like it’s been baking for centuries. Or is there a smart middle ground? Maybe the aim of “breaking the mold” when rebranding has gone slightly out of control. Industries have niches for a reason, not because there is a divine right for certain companies to have certain aesthetics, but because of familiarity and visuals that have been fostered over hundreds of years. If a whiskey bottle suddenly looked like a children’s TV broadcaster, there might be a positive stir if it looked cool – but would actual whiskey drinkers want to drink it?
Looking to another British staple, Ribena rebranded this year. Did anyone notice? Not really. Not because it wasn’t a significant or positive change – in a side-by-side, the new packaging and brand feel a lot more modern – but because it was an apt reimagining. Whilst it didn’t cause a stir, it meant that the brand hasn’t fallen out of favour or behind the times. Heritage doesn’t have to mean “looking old”. Consider GWR’s rebrand from First Great Western in 2015. A decade on, this total reinvention took the brand back a hundred years, whilst feeling increasingly evergreen as time has gone on.
Brands should be more careful in what they decide to lose in the pursuit of fresh eyes. Arguably, when brands rip it all up to feel new – and studios very quickly respond by completely stripping away what was there before – what you end up with is something more naive than novel.
Copyright © Ribena
Copyright © Ribena
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About the Author
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Hailing from the West Midlands, and having originally joined It’s Nice That as an editorial assistant in March 2020, Harry is a freelance writer and designer – running his own independent practice, as well as being one-half of the Studio Ground Floor.