Wag’n Tails / Brand

Putting the heart back into the brand.

Not a logo change. When I joined, the public brand mostly said buy the van, and talk to Sales if you wanted to understand how. I wanted it to help someone understand a decision that could change their work and their life, and to feel a little more like the company I was meeting on the inside.

Role
Director of Marketing
Work
Messaging, brand, digital experience
Alongside
The website, the journey, Customer Care, The Next Mile

The brand I walked into.

The public brand had a job, and it did that job in two sentences. Buy this van. Become a mobile groomer, and you can make a lot of money. If you wanted the how, the why, or the feeling of any of it, the next step was a conversation with Sales.

Those messages were not necessarily wrong. A van is what the company builds. Money is part of why someone considers leaving a shop, or a paycheck, for a route of their own. They were incomplete. There was very little story in them. Very little emotion. Very little about why a person should trust the company, or what it actually felt like to become an owner.

For a purchase that could change someone’s career and their life, the brand felt transactional. It was loud about the van, and quiet about the person.

Buy a van.

Make more money.

What was missing.

The site also left the buying journey unexplained. Financing. Options. Leasing, which was a major offering, not a side note. What a van cost, or even a price range. What someone might need for a down payment. The path from interest to owning. Which vehicle. Why Wag’n Tails was different. What happened after a lead. What support existed after the purchase.

The old pattern was short. Ask Sales.

I don’t think that came from a lack of care. Sales knew the answers. The trouble was that the public brand would not carry them. A person with a real question had to find a human before the company would say anything useful.

Questions for Sales

  • How much does it cost?
  • Can I lease?
  • What do I need for a down payment?
  • Which van is right for me?
  • What happens after I apply?
  • How does financing work?

How do we put the heart back into the brand?

That was the problem I kept coming back to. Not how to throw the identity away. The brand already had strengths. It was bold, colorful, recognizable, energetic. Right for grooming. I had not made it, and I did not want a new logo standing in for the work.

What bothered me was the gap. Inside, I was meeting people who cared about the customers, the product, and what owning a van could make possible. Outside, a lot of that care had nowhere to land. The public face kept returning to the sale.

My belief was simple, and I still hold it. Useful information does not replace Sales. It makes people more informed, and more confident, when they do talk to someone. A person who already understands leasing, or which van fits the work they want to do, walks into that conversation differently. They are not starting from zero. Sales is still the relationship. The brand can stop making people earn the basics.

the heart was already there

From selling a van to supporting a decision.

Selling a van is a moment. Supporting a decision is the stretch around it. Someone has to learn what mobile grooming asks of them. Explore whether they want that life. Compare vehicles. Understand the money, including a lease. Connect with a person. Buy. Then get support after the keys are in their hand.

That is a different job than “buy this” and “make more money.” The short path below is the pattern I walked into. The longer one is what the experience grew toward while I was there.

What I walked into

  1. Interest
  2. Form
  3. Sales

What it grew toward

  1. Interest
  2. Learn
  3. Explore
  4. Compare
  5. Understand
  6. Connect
  7. Buy
  8. Get support

Maturing the visual language.

The identity I walked into was already strong. Purple, teal, gold, and pink. A house, a van, a paw. Bold enough that you knew it was grooming, and specific enough that you knew it was Wag’n Tails. I did not create that. I also did not want to replace it.

What I noticed was how often it lived at full saturation. The same colors, turned all the way up, with very little tonal variation. It could feel loud and flat at the same time. Energetic, and then nowhere for the eye to rest. Type did not always have a clear job. Photography did not always get to be photography. Digital layouts could feel crowded by the color instead of carried by it.

Maturing it meant keeping the recognition and giving it more range. Less of only the most saturated versions. More shades. More whitespace. A type hierarchy you could follow. Photography with a mood: a tint, and a gradient that moves from purple into teal, instead of a flat field of color doing all the talking. Recognizable as Wag’n Tails, with a little more room to breathe.

The digital boards put the color part plainly. The four core colors stay. Purple, teal, gold, pink. Then the shades: a lighter purple, a paler teal, a softer gold, a pink that can sit back, plus black, gray, and a near-white. The line on the board is the one I cared about. Any variant of saturation on the core colors is acceptable. That sentence gave the brand permission to be quieter without becoming someone else.

Type got jobs, too. Amaranth for headings. Helvetica Now for body. A script for the occasional line that needed to feel handwritten, and then it could get out of the way. The logo stayed in the forms people already knew: horizontal, vertical, and the mark on its own. Patterns, when they showed up, could be paws, small crosses, or waves, in the full colors or in the pale ones. Contrast still mattered. A color is not a place to lose the words.

The direction, not a before. These four colors were already the brand. I did not invent them.
The same colors, with shades. The board says any variant of saturation on the core colors is acceptable. That was the room I wanted the identity to have.

The same language had to work on a van, not only on a board.

The brand, out in the work. Van wrap and lockup: We build. You drive.

The brand becomes an experience.

Messaging expanded from buy a van and make money toward the rest of what ownership actually is. Building a business. Independence. Career ownership. The transition into mobile grooming. The financial path. Choosing the right vehicle. Confidence. Support. Education. The people. Innovation. Listening. What the work looks like once the van is yours.

That thinking influenced the website, the customer journey, financing education, the vehicle pages, Customer Care, the educational content, the email, and eventually The Next Mile. I led a lot of the website, where the line became “We build the vans. You own the route.” I shaped other pieces with the people who lived them. All of it evolved while I was there. The brand, in this work, is the whole experience.

The website, in the evolved experience. We build the vans. You own the route. This is not the old brand.

It showed up off the website, too. On social, where the teaching lived. Inside the company, on the page someone opened to ask for help. And in the writing, which had to sound like a person who had done the work.

The voice, in education and social. Made within the brand.
The brand, out in the work. An internal start page, so the voice showed up inside the company, not only on the public site.
I wrote this. The brand explaining the work, instead of only selling the van.

Financing had to be something a person could read, not a secret held for the phone call. Which van, too. Comparing is part of trusting your own decision.

Financing, in the evolved experience. A page that starts to answer what the old pattern saved for Sales. Not the old brand.
Vehicle discovery, in the evolved experience. Quantum and Supreme, where someone can compare. Not the old brand.

The journey was the path between interest and a person, including mail that taught before it sold. Customer Care was what happened after someone already trusted the company enough to buy. Brand, if it means anything, has to include both.

The longer versions live in their own studies. The website. The customer journey. Customer care. The Next Mile.

Customer Care, in the evolved experience. Somewhere to go after the purchase. Not the old brand.
The journey, in the evolved experience. An email that answers questions about going mobile before it asks for anything. Not the old brand.

The Next Mile.

The Next Mile is where that philosophy showed up later, in public. Not a faster way to say buy the van. A place to show what was changing, to be plain about the product, and to ask people what should be fixed next. Listening, innovation, transparency, feedback, and a willingness to improve the thing it sells because someone said so.

That study tells the rest. What belongs here is the connection. The brand had started to sound like a company that was paying attention.

Read The Next Mile.

The brand, out in the work. Every next mile starts with the ones that came before it.
The Next Mile, in the evolved experience. A place to see what was changing and to say what should change next. Not the old brand.

I didn’t want to manufacture heart.

What I’m proudest of is not making Wag’n Tails look different. The colors were already good. The logo already knew what it was. A new coat of paint was never the point.

I wanted the outside to sound more like the company I knew from the inside. People who cared about the customers, the product, and what owning a van could make possible. That care was easy to feel in the building. It was harder to find in the ads, and on the site, when all they would say was buy the van and make the money.

I didn’t want to manufacture heart. I wanted the outside to show the heart that was already there.

Back to the work