03 — Your Logo Isn’t Your Brand

I saw a post on Threads asking a simple question:

“Is a logo really necessary, or is that outdated advice?”

Half the comments said logos are everything.

The other half said branding is everything.

After about ten years of designing brands, I think both sides are missing the point. Your logo isn’t the most important part of your brand. Your logo gives your brand a face. Everything else gives it meaning.

That’s why I don’t get excited when someone tells me they “just need a logo.” Because that’s usually where the conversation stops. I want to build the world around it. When I rebranded from HelloDakotah to YAYA, I thought I was designing a logo. I wasn’t. I was discovering a world.

Yaya comes from my middle name, Aiyanna, which means eternal blossom. I’ve always loved the nickname. It felt playful, memorable, and a little unexpected. Then I started asking bigger questions.

How should Yaya feel?

What kind of people belong here?

If Yaya had an office, what would it look like?

If it had an Instagram, what would the name be?

How would someone know they were in the “YAYA universe” before they ever read a single sentence?

That’s how I landed on 2YaWorld (2ya = YAYA).

Not because it was clever.

Because it belonged to the world I was building.

At first, I chose a font I downloaded.

Everyone preferred it.

It looked polished.

It looked familiar.

Then I showed people the version I had drawn myself.

Almost nobody picked it.

That should’ve been enough to convince me to use the downloaded version.

Instead, it did the opposite. Because familiarity isn’t always authenticity. A few weeks later, while experimenting with my logo, I accidentally sliced part of a letter. When I put the pieces back together, they formed a heart. That tiny accident changed everything. Suddenly, the logo wasn’t just letters anymore.

It represented exactly what I wanted Yaya to become:

A place for wandering minds and creative hearts.

The custom version finally made sense.

I could see it on business cards.

On merchandise.

On packaging.

On event walls.

On journals.

For the first time, I wasn’t looking at a logo.

I was looking at an identity.

That’s when I realized something. The logo wasn’t what made me excited. The world around it did.

The colors changed.

The typography changed.

The patterns changed.

The photography changed.

Even the services I wanted to offer changed.

I stopped asking, “What do I want to sell?”

And started asking,

“What kind of world do I want people to step into?” Those are two very different questions. One comes from survival. The other comes from purpose. This is why I love rebrands. They’re rarely about changing a logo. They’re about uncovering who someone has become. Whether you’re a real estate agent, an attorney, a restaurant owner, or an artist, your logo is only the beginning.

People don’t remember symbols.

They remember experiences.

They remember stories.

They remember how you made them feel.

That’s branding.

That’s strategy.

That’s storytelling.

Your logo simply introduces the conversation.

The brand is what people remember after you’ve left the room.

That’s the work I care about now.

Not creating a logo.

Creating the world behind the name.

It isn’t wrong to be familiar.

Familiar feels safe. It gives people something they already recognize. There’s comfort in that.

But I’d rather be memorable.

Not because memorable is louder, but because it’s more honest. When you create from who you truly are—instead of who you’ve been told to be—your work carries a different kind of weight. It reflects the gifts, perspective, and imagination God entrusted to you. I think that’s what we’re missing, especially in creativity. We’re surrounded by people trying to fit the mold when the real invitation is to create from identity.

Because the goal was never just to be recognized.

It was to be remembered for being exactly who God created you to be.