…you simply won’t get an inspiring logo design process or, in the end, an inspiring logo.

Let me rewind.

A couple of months ago, a husband and wife team came to us wanting to create a logo for their preschool. Their demographic was the modern parent—late 20s, early 30s, iPhone-toting, savvy. I thought it was an interesting project because typically all preschools have similar branding: the pastel colors, the Noah’s Ark; you know the deal.

At the same time the clients were talking to us, however, they were also in contact with one of those ubiquitous $99 logo companies. I’m sure you know how these companies work. The client usually fills out a brief survey (company name, services, etc.), the artist may provide two or three concepts, the client picks one, and in a couple of days it’s over and everyone moves on. The problem is that the artist doesn’t really understand what your business and brand are all about. He or she isn’t spending the time and effort it takes to create a logo that’s meaningful and lasting and iconic. Instead, they’ve set a trend that tells clients it’s okay to not value their brand enough to find the right imagery to represent the face of their company.

We convinced the client to give us a shot, to experience our process. If, in the end, they weren’t satisfied, we would pay for their $99 logo.

Our process is really a series of conversations. We’re available to clients on the phone throughout, and we’ll talk about their business, what they want it to be in five years, how they’re going to use the logo, what colors they feel strongly about, who their competitors are and what they offer, what the logo should be and mean, how people should feel when they see it, shapes and colors, font types and treatments, taglines. Anything and everything.

We did five or six different drafts for these clients, and the first was the one I felt most strongly about. It was also the one they chose (over the $99 logo farm, I might add) to represent their company.

What I’m trying to say to clients is this: Respect your brand. Value it enough to go through a process that will help you understand it even better, rather than leave you exactly where you started.

As a designer, what do you do if what you’re creating for clients doesn’t excite you? I’m finding myself searching for clients who want to kick things up a notch, visually. This may sound harsh, but if you don’t want to do something exciting and attention-grabbing, then I don’t want to talk to you.

We recently did some work for Bea Fields’ speaking kit. Bea is an executive coach and a longtime client of ours, so I’m very familiar with the type of design she’s been doing. For her speaking kit, I created three different design concepts: one was safe, in keeping with what she usually gravitates to; the next was slightly beyond that; and the last was really far beyond what, from a visual standpoint, Bea usually does. Though she picked the first version, I had a great talk with her before we started working on a direct mail piece together. As traditional marketing, direct mail can easily fall in the realm of deathly boring. I told Bea that I didn’t want to go this route unless we pushed the envelope and did something exciting, something bold, with the piece. And, to her immense credit, she agreed.

Below is the design we created:

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It’s incredibly attention-grabbing, and she hadn’t done anything like it in the past; for that reason, because we were daring to step outside the typical boundaries of direct mail design, it was a lot of fun to work on. It made me realize that that if something doesn’t excite me as the artist, it’s not going to excite the viewer. Afterwards, I told Bea, “People still might throw it away, they still might not call you—but you know they definitely looked at it.” And isn’t that the point of design?

This trend is one I want to continue with future clients. I want to be known as the company people call when they want to go THERE; if you want to continue riding the same tired carousel, call someone else.