From brushstroke to brand
Bec Morris
Creative Director and Brand Consultant
The quiet power of hand-lettered signs, and the stories they invite you into.
This summer I was pottering back home from the tram, head in the clouds, and I saw something that stopped me in my tracks — I’m like a magnet to anything hand written, made, or painted.
Outside my local wine shop, Reserve Wines, a man stood on a ladder painting the words WINE BAR & BOTTLE SHOP onto the navy shopfront by hand. No fuss, just patience, and a battered red box labelled ‘Signwriter’ — brush handles poking out the top. I rushed home, grabbed my camera and came straight back. I had to hear this story.
“I painted this toolbox in 1988,” he said, smiling. His name was Damian Whyatt.
There’s something deeply grounding about meeting a maker in the middle of their craft — it’s so peaceful to see someone engrossed in creating, just the doing. And for me, as someone who studies typography and now builds brands for a living, it’s absolutely magic.
Typography isn’t just a functional tool — it’s atmosphere. When you draw letters by hand, you’re not just designing, you’re building a story. You're slowing time and layering meaning into every curve and serif. You're giving a place a voice and a personality.
More than just type on a wall
The sign was part of a wider rebrand, led by the creative team at Want Studios. And it was Damian’s hand that brought it to life in the real world. The brush gave it weight and character, a touch no computer can replicate.
In a world increasingly defined by templates and digital quick fixes, there’s something wonderfully rebellious about taking the long way round. Watching those letters appear — painted with care, not printed at scale — reaffirmed my belief that design, at its best, is about more than looking good. It’s about feeling right.
A hand-painted sign doesn’t care about your dwingling attention span. It doesn’t flash or scroll or animate. It simply exists — confident, calm, and rooted in place. It says: someone cared enough to do this properly. And that says everything.
Stories behind the signage
Reserve Wines is a neighbourhood fixture. A place where you can pop in for a bottle, stay for a glass, or — if you’re lucky — be let in on the secret menu.
On my last visit, a team member poured me a glass of Chardonnay from Tohu — the first Māori-owned vineyard in New Zealand. The wine was called Whenua, which he told me translates as treasure. But not treasure in the gold and jewels sense — treasure as in story, land, and people.
Naturally, I was sold.
That one moment — a wine recommendation rooted in language, culture, and narrative — said everything about Reserve’s brand energy. It’s thoughtful, informed, and warm. The same warmth that a hand-painted sign gives you before you’ve even stepped through the door.
Why the details matter
In design, we often talk about touchpoints — every place a person interacts with a brand. But touch doesn’t have to be literal. It’s also emotional, visual and atmospheric. The curve of a letter, the thickness of a stroke. The way a name sits above a doorway, welcoming you inside.
The sign outside Reserve Wines is more than a label. It’s an introduction and an invitation to slow down and step inside.
And when that invitation is handwritten — steady brush, white paint, weathered toolbox — it tells you this is a place with soul.
Reserve Wines: Website | Instagram
Damian Whyatt: Website | Instagram
Want Studios: Website | Instagram
Tohu Wines: Website | Instagram
