As a design student, I attended a lecture and workshop with design behemoth Brian Collins—former creative director at Ogilvy and Mather and founder of COLLINS, the major agency serving some of today’s largest brands. He presented a central theme: the relationship between advertising and design, which Collins defined as the difference between ‘perceived value’ and ‘actual value’. Advertising shapes the perception; design engages with the value of thing itself.
Collins illustrated this with the soap aisle. A traditional, advertising approach relied on loud, attention-grabbing packaging to scream out antibacterial strength, a signature scent, or some other value differentiator. The same value contest persists in the digital space, where brands compete for mere seconds of attention on social media.
But Collins offered a design-centered alternative that embodies Gysr's cornerstone approach: "a product to live with." This philosophy recognizes that even seemingly trivial purchases like soap become woven into our daily routines—we look at and interact with them every day. Once the soap makes it home, no one needs constant reminders of its antibacterial claims or signature scent. The bottle that won the attention contest in the grocery store aisle can become a screaming eyesore in your bathroom. The design-centered approach, instead, considers the product's full lifespan and ultimate context.
Aesop skincare exemplifies this philosophy perfectly. As Eugene Rabkin notes of Aesop founder Dennis Paphitis: "I have used Aesop at Rick Owens's house and his Paris showroom, at the Boris Bidjan Saberi store in New York, and at Yotam Ottolenghi's restaurants in London, and that list can go on for a long time. And the fact that an Aesop bottle is now an indispensable artifact of any lame bathroom ad has not turned me (and all of the above) off is a testament in itself that quality has the capacity to resist banalization through overuse."
Aesop is far from the loudest bottle on the shelf but rather a dependable, exquisite product in honest packaging that reflects the intrinsic value of their offering. Paphitis remarks about the Aesop founding, "In terms of grooming products available in 1987, the offer was at least as ugly as it is today, perhaps with a little less choice." The modern electrolyte aisle feels the same—loud packaging, explosive flavors, and exaggerated performance claims. Yet the essential elements and actual value remain: sodium, potassium, and magnesium.
Gysr is my response. Amid this landscape of excessive options and bold promises, I created minimal solution: an ingredients-first approach of sea salt and coconut water in recyclable packaging designed to live with you. A balance between apothecary essentials and military rations, Gysr is an honest, enduring staple in your nutrition and daily routines.
As a design student, I attended a lecture and workshop with design behemoth Brian Collins—former creative director at Ogilvy and Mather and founder of COLLINS, the major agency serving some of today’s largest brands. He presented a central theme: the relationship between advertising and design, which Collins defined as the difference between ‘perceived value’ and ‘actual value’. Advertising shapes the perception; design engages with the value of thing itself.
Collins illustrated this with the soap aisle. A traditional, advertising approach relied on loud, attention-grabbing packaging to scream out antibacterial strength, a signature scent, or some other value differentiator. The same value contest persists in the digital space, where brands compete for mere seconds of attention on social media.
But Collins offered a design-centered alternative that embodies Gysr's cornerstone approach: "a product to live with." This philosophy recognizes that even seemingly trivial purchases like soap become woven into our daily routines—we look at and interact with them every day. Once the soap makes it home, no one needs constant reminders of its antibacterial claims or signature scent. The bottle that won the attention contest in the grocery store aisle can become a screaming eyesore in your bathroom. The design-centered approach, instead, considers the product's full lifespan and ultimate context.
Aesop skincare exemplifies this philosophy perfectly. As Eugene Rabkin notes of Aesop founder Dennis Paphitis: "I have used Aesop at Rick Owens's house and his Paris showroom, at the Boris Bidjan Saberi store in New York, and at Yotam Ottolenghi's restaurants in London, and that list can go on for a long time. And the fact that an Aesop bottle is now an indispensable artifact of any lame bathroom ad has not turned me (and all of the above) off is a testament in itself that quality has the capacity to resist banalization through overuse."
Aesop is far from the loudest bottle on the shelf but rather a dependable, exquisite product in honest packaging that reflects the intrinsic value of their offering. Paphitis remarks about the Aesop founding, "In terms of grooming products available in 1987, the offer was at least as ugly as it is today, perhaps with a little less choice." The modern electrolyte aisle feels the same—loud packaging, explosive flavors, and exaggerated performance claims. Yet the essential elements and actual value remain: sodium, potassium, and magnesium.
Gysr is my response. Amid this landscape of excessive options and bold promises, I created minimal solution: an ingredients-first approach of sea salt and coconut water in recyclable packaging designed to live with you. A balance between apothecary essentials and military rations, Gysr is an honest, enduring staple in your nutrition and daily routines.
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