Rarely do I post a photo or video not to just make fun of it.
In fact, I’ve often mocked this place, Rice, on Spring Street. It’s like a gelateria but they sell different flavors of rice pudding. I like the rice pudding, and the concept, but it attracts hordes of people from tour buses. It’s where they rest their dogs and treat themselves after buying counterfeit Louis Vuitton bags on Canal Street.
But, no, I’m not here to mock. I’m here to praise. This signage is some damn good branding. I love the attitude. Almost made me go in and get some rice pudding. Or at least a free sample.
I think it’s a new thing. If it was always there, then I’m blind. Don’t miss the excellent “help wanted” sign at the bottom.
Natural home remedies still will present you with the best results.
Jute is the one other natural fiber, close to cotton, that could be woven into a durable
carrier bag. The woman also told staff she didn’t know who the ladies were.
Nice work, but the proof is in the pudding (so to speak).
Edgy and very funny. Self depreciating humor is a critical element to any successful business.
Ok so now I want some rice pudding and I don’t even know what that is!! This is awesome!
.-= Sara Carbaugh´s last blog ..So You Want to be a Creative Entrepreneur =-.
What strikes me as odd about these signs is not so much the content (although it does impress!) but more the fact that the words are permanently emblazoned using the world’s most gorgeous font, colors, and layout. It is visually so tasteful, probably as tasty as the pudding itself, but sporting such tangy lyrics. Hopefully the pudding does not sport tang, as I fear it would lead to food poisoning.
I live in Oregon, and I know this is hard for some of you to believe, but I have found it to be mostly civilized here, despite it not being Manhattan. However, inevitably, there are exceptions. The shop signs at Rice remind me of something I’ve seen in rural areas, such as a sign which was obviously manufactured by machine, not scrawled out with magic marker on an old cardboard box.
Found along a country road in front of a modest dwelling, this machine-made sign read, “You burn my flag, I’ll burn your ass”. That sign sticks out in my mind because it was fricken engraved in stone (or whatever real street signs are made of). Another sign, this one in Louisiana on another rural roadway, featured a nice illustration of the Devil himself, and the words read, “Drive Slow. Hell Ain’t Half Full”.
Savage beatings as referenced in the photos above are not so far from having one’s ass burned, despite geographical and cultural differences. However, somehow I doubt the underemployed workers at Rice would really carry out such threats, whereas I wouldn’t put it past the guy in my neck of the woods to burn someone’s ass or worse. Odd that the stereotype I uphold in my cache of prejudices puts the gentle country bumpkin in the wrong and the disgruntled urban tough punk as Mr. Nice Guy.
Disclosure: I was born in New York City and grew up on the east coast, but have spent most of my adulthood in Oregon, a culturally diverse state that lies west of the Mississippi.
At least employees will never be able to complain: they know what they get themselves in to!
The little x and I stopped in our tracks as we walked by this place last April. Very, very nice work. I had just started teaching myself marketing and branding, probably wouldn’t have noticed it before that.
.-= Dave Doolin´s last blog ..Help Haiti Blog Challenge: I’m Yours… All Weekend =-.
LOL, I love the signs. Thanks so much for giving me a chuckle today.
Wow. They managed to give attitude… to rice pudding.
*applause*
And pray tell, why does one need to be a college grad?