by David Womack
illustrated by Cam Chesney

As globalization opens new markets, designers are rediscovering the joys of going local.

The only reason I knew I’d been in Belgium at all was that my clothes stunk of Marlboros. I had spent my two hour layover in Brussels at a smoky Irish pub. Never mind that you can’t smoke cigarettes in pubs in Ireland anymore. I checked emails an thumbed through an issue of Beople: A Magazine About a Certain Belgium. The magazine, which is designed by Base, an international design agency with offices in Brussels, Barcelona, and New York, was founded on the idea that Belgium, or, more precisely Belgian-ness, is a state of mind, rather than just a place that can be pinpointed on a map. This came as something of a relief. I had suspected all along that my experience in Brussels airport lacked a certain Belgian-ness.

Contemporary culture, and especially contemporary design culture, is obsessed by the ideal of the global nomad. Grab your titanium laptop, slide into your Prada loafers and you’re out the door. If you forget something, you can always pick it up when you get there—wherever there happens to be. For many designers, a global orientation is no longer a question of style, it’s a business necessity. As globalization opens new markets, designers have to be ready to lead the charge, adapting a brand or product to a new culture.

Designers have, by and large, embraced this new role, hanging clocks set to show the current time in Seoul, Beirut and Buenos Aires over their reception desks and adding phrases such as “internationally recognized” and “global reach” to their agency descriptions. At the same time, many designers draw on location and culture for a sense of identity and a primary source for inspiration.

And it’s not just designers who find meaning close to home. Sales of organic foods have quadrupled in the last 10 years. At my local farmer’s market, the dairy stall is crowded with pictures of cheerful looking heifers. Martha Stewart continued to cash in on home-centered activities such as craft and cooking even when she was living behind bars. Even in multi-national industries, the desire of the public to know where products are coming from is forcing change. Nike.com features pictures of Indonesian children and talks about the company’s support of local communities.

For designers, the issue of retaining a connection to your roots is particularly complex. Designers are charged with creating images and objects that communicate to the broadest possible audience and yet retain an essential character that makes them unique. “Keeping up with your roots and local influences is a hard thing today,” says Base partner Dimitri Jeurissen—a Belgian designer living in Brooklyn. “I’m on the phone or Ichat every day about jobs in different parts of the world.” Base started Beople as an attempt to hold on to what makes the agency unique. “Our starting point with Beople was very local, very Belgian,” recalls Jeurissen, but it didn’t stay that way for long. “Soon we were working with an international team of collaborators. Then, despite its very local cultural interest, you have people buying it in New York and Tokyo.” People all over the world were finding inspiration in a culture they had never experienced first hand.

1 2 3 >>