:: Spilt Ink Packaging ::

Overview

As I developed the packaging for the Spilt Ink brand, I considered a wide variety of shapes and templates. Ultimately, however, the shape of the packaging needed to respond to and augment the shape of the object within, which made some of the options I was considering stand out as the stronger candidates.

As this process continued, I remembered that the Spilt Ink brand was not about the creation of something new, but taking something old and giving it a new life. Thus was born the idea of re-purposing packages that had already been used for something else. The Spilt Ink brand is about inspiration, and so it was only natural that I practice this principle while searching for appropriate older packages to serve as a basis for the new ones.

Each package needed some inherent story that could be used as inspiration for the creative writers that would eventually purchase these items, and so I did not want to obliterate all signs of what the package used to be. Instead, I wanted to allow its history to peek through, veiling it in just enough branding to make it feel like it was a part of the set.

I chose translucent vellum as the labeling material for its smoky qualities to serve as this "veil," and applied the visual motifs of the Spilt Ink brand: blackletter style font; large, recessive ligatures; and an element unique to the packaging: the dripping bar code.

Because these packages were all developed to be displayed within a branded store, the Spilt Ink logotype did not need to be front and center, but was able to take a less-prominent position on one of the secondary faces. I also included a message on each product written by the fictional store owner, Dave Dennison.

Keep reading to learn more about the packaging design process!

Feathered Quill

The feathered quill is a simple writing instrument; nothing more than a metal tube affixed to a feather for stability and a pen nib for function. But like instruments of a musical nature, the quill holds a latent potential for creating something beautiful or terrible, something lovely, intense, or compelling, recorded for all time so that others might enjoy what has come from it over and over.

It seemed appropriate, then, that the box used to package the quill was that of an old player piano scroll. Player pianos used one of the early forms of "recorded" music. A scroll of paper would be punched with holes in a certain pattern and then fixed into the player piano. As the player piano dragged the scroll across an area of pressurized air, those areas that permitted air through—the holes in the scroll—would trigger the piano to play a given note. Like a scroll scribbled with writing, the scroll of punched holes preserved a message of inspiration for years to come.

This box was re-purposed to slide open vertically, held together by the band of vellum which also serves as the Spilt Ink label.

Leatherbound Journal

In the early days of modern British literature, a group of friends got together to discuss their creative writing ideas and come up with something new—something uniquely British. This group of friends was known as the Inklings to its members, which included both C. S. Lewis, author of the Chronicles of Narnia and famous Christian apologist, and J. R. R. Tolkien, whose tales of a hobbit and a ring have reached father than the printed pages of "The Hobbit," and "The Lord of the Rings."

Sitting around a table in a nearby pub, these friends smoked a cigar or two and read out the hand-scrawled notes from their personal journals. Inspired by this scene dominated by the smells of smoke-haze and leather, the Spilt Ink leatherbound journal is packaged in an old cigar box that bears the name "Robt. Burns," a famous Scottish poet who is known among his own simply as "The Bard."

Instead of a label, the vellum acts in this instance as a slip-case, intended to be removed and set aside. This encourages the purchaser to consider the object without the label and vice versa, permitting them a new perspective on how the two pieces interact with one another while they are together.

Number Two Pencils

Not all of Spilt Ink packaging needed to be steeped in some deep conceptual metaphor. In some cases, the necessary inspiration could simply come from an interesting visual irony.

Imagine the scene that might unfold when a debonair man in a pin-striped suit took out his tin case of Old Gold cigarettes only to discover that his favorite smokes had been replaced with #2 pencils—and lacking erasers, no less! Such an odd happening would surely stir up gossip of our debonair gentleman being a closeted author who evidently had such faith in his writing that he never expected to make a mistake. What cheek! What a scandal!

Here, as with the leatherbound journal, the label acts as a slip-case.

Sealing Wax

This box was once used to hold spools of thread. Now, it is used to contain 10 sticks of sealing wax and a box of matches. As the thread holds together the fabric of a garment, so does the wax hold shut the envelope flap of an invitation to a fine ball, or perhaps a scroll bearing an important secret message. This package shows one of the rare instances where the large recessive ligature intended as a design element actually becomes functional; the ampersand in the background modifies the two things inside the box: sealing wax & matches.

Once again, we see another instance of the label acting as a slip-case.

Ink Well

This collector's tin originally bore the Coca-Cola logo, and while that detail certainly gave the item a clear history, it also threatened to overshadow the Spilt Ink branding with its mega-corporation status. To mitigate this, the tin was distressed so the Coca-Cola logo would remain legible, but be visually recessive.

In this example we see how the label's visual elements begin to interact with the design of the container underneath; the "ink well" label seems to comment on the portrait of the woman, while the message from Dave Dennison fits nicely within a square of empty space on the tin, suggesting to the viewer that they might have been designed at the same time.

The ink well packaged inside this tin comes pre-dripped with layer upon layer of candle wax, suggesting that it, like the tin itself, was once used for something very different in a previous life.

Pen Nibs

Not much is known about the original use of this tin. The label on the front is so distressed that no clue of its origins can possibly be gained, though it promises a "booklet with instructions within." While there is no longer any such booklet, there are now three pen nibs, to be used universally with any feathered quill.

Some might say the mystery of the tin's origins reflects the mystery of what written words once came from the points of these pen nibs, both now lost to living memory. Others might say it's just an old box with quill tips inside.

Another example of a slip-case label.

Ink Powder

This package features a punctured lid which could be used to roughen up the small patches of rubber once contained within. These patches were intended to repair the wheels of a bicycle, and they must have served their purpose, because the only thing inside now is a package of powdered ink. Now, the punctures in the tin can serve to dispense the ink powder in any necessary amount.

As with the ink well, we see that the label design begins to interact with the package design; the "ink powder"  label rests within a rectangle of space that almost seems planned out before the bicycle ever blew a flat.

Shopping Bag

This sack was originally meant to hold barnyard feed, but has since been re-purposed to serve as a shopping bag. This is one rare instance where the original object did not look old enough for the purposes of the project, and so it was steeped in tea leaves for several hours and then left to cure in the sun. The result is an effective aged yellowing.

No complex metaphor here, just simple function. Unless there might be a parallel drawn between the previous contents of the bag being used to feed cattle, while the products purchased from Spilt Ink "feed" the imagination of the consumer. Then again, a bag can just be a bag.

Can't it...?

In Review

The design for the Spilt Ink labels was created using Adobe Illustrator and printed on artificial vellum. The final packages are actual antiques purchased from antique stores (with the exception of the shopping bag, which was antiqued artificially).

The quill, pen nibs, ink bottle, and leatherbound journal were all owned by me prior to the project. The wax candles were lovingly salvaged from being thrown away, and the match-box and pencils were new, but distressed to look old and used. There never really was any ink powder to begin with.

The product photos were staged and taken by me and edited in Adobe Photoshop, then designed into the above compositions in Adobe Illustrator. Taken out of their original context, these compositions represent the packaging section of the Spilt Ink brand identity book I created for the project, hence the page numbers to the right of each composition.

The dripping bar code is based on a real, functional bar code, but I've never scanned it to see if it works. It belongs to the book of twisted children's poetry "Creature Carnival," by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Gris Grimly. If you go back and look, you'll notice that the bar code is always printed on the packages upside-down, with the numbers at the top.

You might also have noticed that the Spilt Ink logo always features a different ink blot over the "i."