Just to be clear, I sincerely hope that Cloudy Bay never looks like Noosa, but perhaps it’s inevitable.

I remember the 90s jingle ‘you can make it in Tasmania’… one assumed those responsible ‘doth protest too much’ and tended to lean towards the opposite. We naturally distrust branding – the attempt to create an image for an entity. To bring something or someone back into the world anew, to take an ‘existing’ and move it towards a ‘preferred’, to affect a perceptual shift through the suspension of disbelief.

The question of branding is a question of identity and asks that difficult question ‘who are you?’. A question the collective consciousness of Tasmania might find somewhat tricky to answer, perhaps slightly harder than the ‘re-branding’ alternative of ‘who do you want to be?’. Perhaps ‘who do you wish to be seen to be’ is more apt for a mark destined to be pointed largely towards outsiders; mainlanders, tourists; the Other.

If we think about who or what Tassie ‘wishes to be seen to be’ we recognise the search for identity of the juvenile; ‘trying on’ various outfits, fads and friends, searching for a ‘look’ that makes sense. We find this sort of thing endearing in a 14 year old, but after 150 years with the Tassie moniker? Surely she’s got an identity by now? Shouldn’t she be a comfortable old dog, happy in her skin, willing to stand aside and watch the shenanigans of the young things. But perhaps not, perhaps there’s a reconciliation with past events that still requires some attention.

Folk often hold up ‘I (heart) NY’ as the perfect brand, seemingly timeless, instantly recognisable, worn willingly by thousands of people in every part of the world. The brand equity of that city seems unshakeable and in some way ‘natural’, of course people love it, we all love it, it seems like a trustworthy old dog, happy in its flea-bitten old self. Yet this mark is the result of a ‘re-brand’. When Milton Glaser designed it in ‘77 (see here), he says NYC was full of dog shit, afterwards they turned a corner (brought in a $100 fine) and started to take some pride in the place.

I love Tasmania.

All the best, Neal.