We design symbols the way people used to carve marks into things they planned to keep. Not for decoration. For meaning.

Every Barrel & Bloom chapter has a symbol because a chapter needs a seal. Something you can recognize at a glance. Something that holds the story even when you don’t have the words for it.

Here’s the actual process, from first idea to final mark. It’s less “branding session” and more “field note that survived.”

1. Start with a place or feeling. Dock wood. Orchard air. Snow hush. Road dust. A specific kind of quiet.
2. Find the object that belongs to it. Lantern. Rail spike. Cedar bough. Match. Barrel hoop. A key.
3. Reduce it to a silhouette. One shape. No noise. If it needs explaining, it’s not done.
4. Add one “story scar.” A notch, a cut, a split, a bend. Something imperfect enough to feel lived-in.
5. Test at tiny sizes. If it dies at 24px, it won’t survive on a label, hang tag, or embroidery.
6. Pair it with a line of lore. The symbol becomes the door. The line becomes the key.

We also design with print in mind, because the real world is rude: paper has texture, ink spreads, threads pull. Clean lines survive. Over-designed details don’t.

If you’ve ever kept an old ticket stub or a worn key for no practical reason, you already understand symbols. They’re proof that something happened. That a place existed. That you were there.

Next time you see a Barrel & Bloom mark, read it like a map. It’s pointing at the chapter underneath.