Good morning from Dieline’s editor-in-chief, Bill McCool. Here’s your daily side serving of design news, short musings, brand stuff, and forgotten ephemera.
Rudy just recapped the Best Redesigns of the Summer, and I was shocked - SHOCKED - that there was no Chef Boyardee to be found. Look at that smiling mustached man holding the largest bowl of Beefaroni ever! What’s not to love!
Monopolies remain bad, and I genuinely don’t know how any band can live off the Spotify grid these days, even when we can seemingly live with founders who have invested in AI weapons. Somehow, that’s not a deal breaker for a lot of folks anymore. Unrelated-but-maybe-kinda-related: is it possible that the board game Monopoly has influenced or tainted much of the global psyche around wealth inequality? Sure, you have to go to jail if you don’t pay your taxes, but the game literally rewards the economic theory of MINE MINE MINE. Granted, the game would likely have no winner, and maybe I’m just the psycho who wants a never-ending Monopoly sesh (kidding, I would rather learn how to play ukulele than endure a 4-hour game of Monopoly).
Related: I am not ready for the kids to start aping 2005-2011. Please and no thank you.
JFC, Patagonia alert: Stop trying to pay people to vote! None of this looks good, no matter which side of the aisle you’re on.
I like the idea behind this limited-edition collection for Dove’s “ice cream parlor,” but use ice cream pints for the packaging or go home.
Local Massachusetts guy, i.e., me, was quite surprised to learn that Dunkin’ and L.L. Bean HADN’T collaborated before. Anyway, cup sweaters are adorable and can even thaw this cold New England heart that’s almost always swimming in the state’s sarcasm (which is really the state’s primary export).
7-Eleven is holding an open call for emerging brands that want to be heroed in one of their stores. Submit your application to American 7-Eleven Idol by October 13th!
I have zero desire to discuss or analyze the current state of masculinity, and most of my thoughts about men who constantly fret over their manliness can be summed up with a solid Grow Up. There is nothing inherently feminine about owning a cat. That has everything to do with your preconceived notions about gender. Cats, meanwhile, continue to be fucking awesome, but especially my cats. Anywho, this is all to say that I can’t wait for the New York Times to write about performative cat dads a year from now.
Put a little more stomp in your clap.
-Bill