America, according to Selfridges Food Hall

Lucky Charms, Jif peanut butter, Betty Crocker cake mix, Aunt Jemima, Shake n’ Bake, Crisco, Pop Tarts, Goober jam, microwave popcorn. These are among the products apparently most-missed by American ex-pats living in London; or at least this is what Selfridges’ “American” Food Hall selection tells us. 

To those who aren’t familiar with Selfridges, it’s London’s rather grander department store version of Barney’s, and of its many departments, its food hall is probably the best. Food from all over the world, the best place in London to buy fresh fish for sushi, cheese, deli foods like no where else, perhaps a bit like a larger, more comprehensive version of Dean & Deluca. And they sell Lucky Charms. (Note, Lucky Charms is the only cereal on offer in this section).

But I do wonder who had the interesting job of choosing 20 SKUs of American products to meet demand. When people leave America, are these really the 20 products they miss the most? All highly-processed, relics of a 1960s America defined - it seems - by foods most of us longed for as children. 

There are dozens of other foods I’d love to see on these shelves, but yeah, on some infantile level, this selection of brands has homed in on our desire to buy all the stuff we probably couldn’t (read: weren’t allowed) when we actually lived in the states.

Infantile urges for pink, sugary, artificially-flavoured food seem to have defined this particular “ethnic” food selection. But I also wonder about Selfridges’ cultural role as a permissive parent. It fits with its store-wide indulgence positioning. I can’t speak on other “ethnic” food sections, but I wonder if the selections are equally indulgent, submitting to the infantile urges of …wherever… somehow, I doubt it.  I’m probably reading too much into this, but if they’re stocking it, it’s because it sells. And knowing the buying prowess of Selfridges, they probably buy these products specifically because they’ll sell better than any thing else. hmmm…

Typologies of storytelling in design

“Storytelling” must take the prize for most over-used strategic-creative bullshit. But the fact is, lots of us use it, and it works. Our brains like stories. 

Interviewing Tony Dunne a couple nights ago, we inevitably fell onto the topic of storytelling in design and it got me thinking about different types of storytelling. Or perhaps different purposes of storytelling. 

1 The first type uses design to tell a story. We see this all the time in branding, packaging and retail in particular. The design implies there is a story out there which is communicated thus through colour, through a specific graphic style, through imagery, through shapes, etc. It would be quite difficult to pick out any sort of ‘narrative’ from this, but an overarching ‘story’ seems to permeate the stuff that gets made. 

2 A nuanced variation on the first type, the second is when design uses narrative to create an experience. Much more visible in say, architecture, retail, exhibition and interior (the world of big things you can move around in), because people more literally can become characters, actors, agents - and their movements, motions and emotions can be choreographed through the dynamic space. It’s in these experiences one might find explicitly designed “events” or cinematic qualities (suspense, pacing, surprise, etc), treating one’s existence in the space like a story that needs plotting out. Turn a corner and WOW! This approach sort of argues that narratives are the best way of communicating a complex idea in an emplaced context like a historical event in a museum or a brand in a store. 

You don’t need narrative tools to tell a story, but if what you’re designing is an emplaced experience, these tools become pretty important.

3 The third type uses story to create a design. Here we can invent possible worlds, with different sets of assumptions about human existence, different laws of physics, different biologies. It’s from these worlds we’ve written that some of the most inventive design emerges - because it’s been designed for a world that doesn’t exist. (Or perhaps in the case of scenario planning, is a world that doesn’t exist, YET.) Once the design is created, the story can then fall away like scaffolding. 

4 The fourth type tells a design through a story. The world of design fiction and site writing designs us impossible objects. Things that cannot exist physically are manifested through written stories. These story-things are not real nor fake, but likeable untruths which we conjure in our minds. 

This list is incomplete, as it should be…

Image by Raquel Kelmanzon