When people think about brand design, they often jump straight to colour, logos, photography, or maybe even tone of voice. But one of the most overlooked—and most powerful—tools in a brand’s visual arsenal is typography. It’s not just about choosing a typeface that looks good.
It’s about using typography to communicate meaning, emotion, and intent. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that in many brand identities, type is the make-or-break element. Get it right, and you unlock clarity, personality, and distinction. Get it wrong, and everything else suffers—no matter how beautiful your layout or photography might be.
I’ve always believed that typefaces are more than just carriers of content. They’re story-telling devices. They hold weight. They carry cultural references, emotional tones, and signals about a brand’s values and worldview. A well-chosen typeface doesn’t just speak—it resonates. It can evoke trust, authority, playfulness, innovation, or heritage in a single glance. And yet, too often, typography is treated as an afterthought. Something to fill space. A way to hold the words. When really, it should be one of the first tools we reach for when defining a brand.
More Than Letters
Every typeface has a voice. Just like a person’s tone can completely change the meaning of a sentence, a typeface changes the energy of a message. Take the word “progress.” In Helvetica, it feels modern and neutral. In Baskerville, it carries a quiet confidence. In something like Druk, it punches with urgency and boldness. The word hasn’t changed—but how we feel about it has. That’s the power of type. It shapes interpretation long before we start reading.
That’s why typefaces in brand identities are never just aesthetic decisions. They’re strategic ones. They connect the brand to a wider visual and cultural world. They can make a brand feel established or emerging. Luxurious or disruptive. Tech-forward or human-centred. All without saying a single word about the business itself.
Type as a Narrative Device
For me, the best brand identities use type to tell a story. Not just in headlines or copy, but in the very DNA of the brand. The curves, the edges, the spacing—all of it contributes to a tone of voice that exists visually as well as verbally.
Look at brands like Vogue, which uses Didone-style serif typography to evoke a sense of timeless fashion and luxury. Or consider Netflix, whose custom typeface—Netflix Sans—was designed not just to look good on screen but to feel confident, cinematic, and unmistakably theirs. These choices are never random. They’re deliberate signals to the audience, reinforcing how the brand wants to be understood.
This is where many designers go wrong. They think type is just about legibility or style. But when done well, it’s about narrative. A single typeface, used well, can carry years of cultural associations and emotional depth. It can create consistency across channels, environments, and media, building brand recognition without shouting.
Hierarchy Is Just as Important
But it’s not just about the typeface itself. It’s also about how you use it. Information hierarchy—how we structure content visually through size, weight, spacing, and layout—is fundamental to good brand communication.
I’ve seen beautifully chosen typefaces fall flat because there’s no thought behind the hierarchy. No rhythm. No clarity. A brand isn’t just what it says—it’s how it says it. And hierarchy helps shape that voice. It tells the viewer what’s important, what’s supportive, and how to navigate the message. When done right, hierarchy builds trust. It makes a brand feel thoughtful and coherent.
In this sense, typography becomes more than a design element. It becomes an experience. It guides the user. It creates pace, emphasis, energy. It can whisper, shout, or sing—depending on how it’s handled.
Custom vs. Off-the-Shelf
Another important layer is the question of custom typography. I don’t think every brand needs a custom typeface. But I do think every brand should be deliberate about why they’re using what they’re using. Sometimes a perfectly chosen off-the-shelf font can do the job beautifully. Other times, when you need to create a truly ownable asset, a custom solution might be the answer.
Custom typefaces aren’t just about standing out visually—they’re about owning a distinctive tone of voice. Think of Airbnb, who created a bespoke typeface to better align with their global, human, and inclusive positioning. It wasn’t about design for design’s sake. It was about alignment. Integrity. Purpose.
That’s the kind of decision-making I believe in. Creative that’s led by meaning. Typography that reflects not just who the brand is, but who they want to be.
The Tangibles and Intangibles of Type
If we go back to my broader design philosophy—head and heart, tangible and intangible—typography sits right in the middle. It’s both. On the tangible side, it’s a practical system. A readable structure. A set of tools for communicating consistently across touchpoints. But on the intangible side, it’s pure emotion. Pure perception. It’s how people feel about what they’re seeing before they’ve even processed the words.
Typography bridges logic and feeling. Which is why it’s so critical to brand design. It’s one of the few elements that lives at every level of the experience—from the logo, to the campaign, to the UX. It’s everywhere. So if it’s misaligned, the whole brand feels off.
But when it’s right? It feels effortless. Cohesive. Confident. And those are the brands we remember.
From Craft to Impact
Ultimately, typography is a craft. But in the context of brand identity, it’s also a lever of impact. I don’t care how fast a project moves or how tight the deadlines are—if the type hasn’t been considered properly, the work won’t land the way it should. Because type isn’t just about looking good. It’s about feeling right. And that’s what makes brands stick.
So the next time you’re building a brand, or refreshing one, or even just designing a campaign—don’t leave type to the end. Don’t treat it like a garnish. Treat it like the base note. The thing that holds everything else together.
Because when you get typography right, everything else starts to feel right too.
When people think about brand design, they often jump straight to colour, logos, photography, or maybe even tone of voice. But one of the most overlooked—and most powerful—tools in a brand’s visual arsenal is typography. It’s not just about choosing a typeface that looks good.
It’s about using typography to communicate meaning, emotion, and intent. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that in many brand identities, type is the make-or-break element. Get it right, and you unlock clarity, personality, and distinction. Get it wrong, and everything else suffers—no matter how beautiful your layout or photography might be.
I’ve always believed that typefaces are more than just carriers of content. They’re story-telling devices. They hold weight. They carry cultural references, emotional tones, and signals about a brand’s values and worldview. A well-chosen typeface doesn’t just speak—it resonates. It can evoke trust, authority, playfulness, innovation, or heritage in a single glance. And yet, too often, typography is treated as an afterthought. Something to fill space. A way to hold the words. When really, it should be one of the first tools we reach for when defining a brand.
More Than Letters
Every typeface has a voice. Just like a person’s tone can completely change the meaning of a sentence, a typeface changes the energy of a message. Take the word “progress.” In Helvetica, it feels modern and neutral. In Baskerville, it carries a quiet confidence. In something like Druk, it punches with urgency and boldness. The word hasn’t changed—but how we feel about it has. That’s the power of type. It shapes interpretation long before we start reading.
That’s why typefaces in brand identities are never just aesthetic decisions. They’re strategic ones. They connect the brand to a wider visual and cultural world. They can make a brand feel established or emerging. Luxurious or disruptive. Tech-forward or human-centred. All without saying a single word about the business itself.
Type as a Narrative Device
For me, the best brand identities use type to tell a story. Not just in headlines or copy, but in the very DNA of the brand. The curves, the edges, the spacing—all of it contributes to a tone of voice that exists visually as well as verbally.
Look at brands like Vogue, which uses Didone-style serif typography to evoke a sense of timeless fashion and luxury. Or consider Netflix, whose custom typeface—Netflix Sans—was designed not just to look good on screen but to feel confident, cinematic, and unmistakably theirs. These choices are never random. They’re deliberate signals to the audience, reinforcing how the brand wants to be understood.
This is where many designers go wrong. They think type is just about legibility or style. But when done well, it’s about narrative. A single typeface, used well, can carry years of cultural associations and emotional depth. It can create consistency across channels, environments, and media, building brand recognition without shouting.
Hierarchy Is Just as Important
But it’s not just about the typeface itself. It’s also about how you use it. Information hierarchy—how we structure content visually through size, weight, spacing, and layout—is fundamental to good brand communication.
I’ve seen beautifully chosen typefaces fall flat because there’s no thought behind the hierarchy. No rhythm. No clarity. A brand isn’t just what it says—it’s how it says it. And hierarchy helps shape that voice. It tells the viewer what’s important, what’s supportive, and how to navigate the message. When done right, hierarchy builds trust. It makes a brand feel thoughtful and coherent.
In this sense, typography becomes more than a design element. It becomes an experience. It guides the user. It creates pace, emphasis, energy. It can whisper, shout, or sing—depending on how it’s handled.
Custom vs. Off-the-Shelf
Another important layer is the question of custom typography. I don’t think every brand needs a custom typeface. But I do think every brand should be deliberate about why they’re using what they’re using. Sometimes a perfectly chosen off-the-shelf font can do the job beautifully. Other times, when you need to create a truly ownable asset, a custom solution might be the answer.
Custom typefaces aren’t just about standing out visually—they’re about owning a distinctive tone of voice. Think of Airbnb, who created a bespoke typeface to better align with their global, human, and inclusive positioning. It wasn’t about design for design’s sake. It was about alignment. Integrity. Purpose.
That’s the kind of decision-making I believe in. Creative that’s led by meaning. Typography that reflects not just who the brand is, but who they want to be.
The Tangibles and Intangibles of Type
If we go back to my broader design philosophy—head and heart, tangible and intangible—typography sits right in the middle. It’s both. On the tangible side, it’s a practical system. A readable structure. A set of tools for communicating consistently across touchpoints. But on the intangible side, it’s pure emotion. Pure perception. It’s how people feel about what they’re seeing before they’ve even processed the words.
Typography bridges logic and feeling. Which is why it’s so critical to brand design. It’s one of the few elements that lives at every level of the experience—from the logo, to the campaign, to the UX. It’s everywhere. So if it’s misaligned, the whole brand feels off.
But when it’s right? It feels effortless. Cohesive. Confident. And those are the brands we remember.
From Craft to Impact
Ultimately, typography is a craft. But in the context of brand identity, it’s also a lever of impact. I don’t care how fast a project moves or how tight the deadlines are—if the type hasn’t been considered properly, the work won’t land the way it should. Because type isn’t just about looking good. It’s about feeling right. And that’s what makes brands stick.
So the next time you’re building a brand, or refreshing one, or even just designing a campaign—don’t leave type to the end. Don’t treat it like a garnish. Treat it like the base note. The thing that holds everything else together.