FCKLCK makes reuse literal in TIEN’s 3.2 million logo variations — The Brand Identity – Home of the Greatest in Graphic & Brand Design

One evening in Antwerp, over beers and bourbon shots, FCKLCK’s James Kruger opened Illustrator with a simple premise: if a vintage clothing store sells pre-owned pieces from Nike, Adidas, Diesel and dozens of other brands, why not build its identity the same way? By midnight, he and his friend Stijn Klaver had created twenty different wordmarks for TIEN, each one assembled entirely from fragments of existing brand logos. The next morning, the question was obvious – did it still work in daylight? The answer launched a complete rebrand.

TIEN operates from Groningen with a straightforward model: every piece of clothing costs €10. The store focuses on casual fashion and sportswear from the 1960s through the early 2000s, removing the usual mental calculation between desire and price. Customers choose what they love without weighing cost, which shifts shopping from transaction to genuine selection. For owner Aline Bus, the fixed price makes vintage more democratic whilst supporting circular fashion through accessibility rather than moral lectures.

The existing identity featured the name in a cheerful vintage typeface set in yellow and pink. Functional, but it lacked the impact to properly position what TIEN actually represents. Klaver, Aline’s boyfriend and an Art Director at TBWA Belgium, mentioned the project to Kruger one evening. “She had just opened a second vintage clothing store,” Kruger recalls. “The space next door to her existing vintage designer label shop had become vacant, and while sourcing pieces for the high-end store, she often ended up with more casual, sporty vintage items that did not fit that selection.” Vintage stores contain different styles, eras and brands colliding in one space – so the identity could work the same way. They opened Illustrator, pulled PNGs of casual and sports fashion brand logos containing ‘T,’ ‘I,’ ‘E’ or ‘N,’ and started cutting and clipping. “We began collaging them together in a loose, chaotic way,” Kruger explains. “Before we knew it, we had around 20 different TIEN wordmarks built entirely from fragments.”

The session extended well past midnight and felt completely free and playful, which concerned them slightly. The next day’s sober review confirmed the concept held strength. Bus didn’t yet know they were working on anything, so Kruger and Klaver spent several more evenings refining the approach. They tested cleaner, more controlled cropping methods, but the raw energy of that first spontaneous night consistently felt strongest.

The final system contains 71 brand logos spanning casual fashion, sportswear, band merchandise and sports clubs. Any logo containing the four letters qualified, as long as it came from an active brand realistically found in thrift stores. Finding vector and SVG versions online proved essential for the large-format posters they planned to print – low-resolution PNGs wouldn’t work at scale. The collection now includes 43 letter ‘T’s, 38 ‘I’s, 51 ‘E’s and 39 ‘N’s. By selecting one of each, the system can theoretically generate more than 3.2 million different TIEN wordmarks. “We never expected this,” Kruger notes, “and what makes it especially interesting is that it means we never have to use the same composition twice across any of Tien’s collateral.”

The approach deliberately avoided focusing only on famous brands or precise letter cutting. The spontaneity and chaos keep the system honest. Early motion tests proved the collection worked as a whole – people only need to recognise a few familiar fragments to understand the concept. This understanding shaped the broader identity’s restraint. With such chaotic, outspoken logo variations, the supporting typography needed to be a true workhorse without competing for attention.

Kruger selected Untitled Sans Medium from Klim Type Foundry, marking the first time the studio had used a Kris Sowersby typeface despite being longtime admirers. “We wanted something very specific, something that is inherently neutral,” he explains. “Untitled Sans does exactly that. It’s highly functional, super unobtrusive, and has that neutral aesthetic that allows all of the TIEN logo collages to pop in application without competing for attention.” The typeface’s lack of overt personality proved essential, as the TIEN logos play an active role throughout communication, effectively turning the name itself into part of the message. Even the typeface name felt conceptually appropriate, quietly reinforcing reuse without unnecessary aesthetic.

The Medium weight proved strong enough to handle headlines, display and body copy without becoming visually heavy or drawing attention from the logo collages. Using a single weight kept the identity minimal whilst maintaining functionality across all applications. The system operates in rich black on white and light grey backgrounds. No decoration, no additional colours – just the logos and type arranged with clarity.

The physical store demanded proper signage to showcase the branding, which led to an unusual solution. Kruger reached out to Kevin Verelst, a creative technologist and engineer he’d met during his career. They initially considered using four vintage CRT monitors, but those have become expensive enough to blow the budget for a second-hand clothing store. Verelst mentioned Wouter Van Beirendonck, who owns Ledblox in Antwerp, a company specialising in modular LED wall signage for events, festivals and installations. He immediately connected with the concept and offered four modular LED screens completely free. The screens had small numbers of defective pixels from wear and tear, meaning they could no longer be rented or sold commercially despite functioning perfectly. “This turned out to be a perfect coincidence, as it reinforced the core principle of reuse within the identity itself,” Kruger shares. The missing pixels are barely noticeable given the bold letterforms and motion design rhythm. Verelst helped programme the screens, 3D printed mounting parts and guided installation. What started as practical signage became one of the most tangible expressions of the concept – using what still works even when it’s no longer considered new or perfect.

The “Tien’ed” garments extend the reuse logic directly onto clothing. FCKLCK went through bags of bulk vintage stock, selecting items for their graphic impact, cut, colour or overall presence. They also visited thrift shops in Antwerp and Brussels and sourced pieces via Vinted. Whenever they found a garment with an existing slogan, they mentally replaced the brand name with TIEN and read it aloud. If it made sense, carried humour, and felt natural, they used it. The results include “TIEN – For Successful Living” (Diesel), “Just Do TIEN” and “TIEN Just Redo It” (Nike), “TIEN – Never Stop Exploring” (The North Face), “Tien – I Was Made for Loving You” (Kiss), and “The Intelligent Choice – Tien” (New Balance). Each slogan already carried enough cultural weight to remain recognisable whilst the intervention stayed minimal enough to feel playful rather than disruptive. Bert Depuydt of Afreux handled printing, with embroidery work by Lore Pauwels. Working directly on garments reinforced the tactile, collaborative nature of the project.

The identity embraces what Kruger describes as old-school Dutch functionalism – less a visual reference than a way of thinking. Graphic design functions as a tool for communication and problem-solving. Every decision was tested against a simple question: does this make the proposition clearer, more direct and more useful? Are design choices serving the purpose or merely the aesthetic? This philosophy becomes clear in how the system behaves. The logo operates as a flexible, modular unit that adapts endlessly without losing recognition, paired with neutral typeface consistently set in black. The logo isn’t treated as a precious object that must always look the same, but as a functional concept working across posters, bags, flyers, cards, screens, labels, clothing and messaging. Information hierarchy never gets sacrificed for visual effect. Even when collaged letters interrupt typography, messages remain immediately understandable from distance or within busy street contexts. The approach to reuse avoided presenting sustainability as moral statement or lifestyle aspiration. Clothes already exist. Logos already exist. Screens already exist. Design’s role is organising and reframing what’s already there in a way that makes sense for the brand.

This meant deliberately avoiding familiar vintage and sustainability clichés. No sepia colour grading, no distressed faux-retro typography, no craft paper textures or decorative wear effects, and no earthy visual language designed to signal ethical virtue. No nostalgic storytelling or romanticising the past. “The project is not about longing for how things used to be, but about dealing intelligently with how things are now,” Kruger explains. The identity is blunt, direct and occasionally rough around the edges. It trusts people to understand the idea without over-explanation.

The most challenging aspect was maintaining discipline within the system itself. Designing an identity relying entirely on borrowed elements demands restraint. The hardest rule was committing fully to working only with what they found, without intervening, correcting or embellishing when something felt imperfect. As designers naturally tend to refine and polish, that instinct had to be suppressed. Consistency couldn’t come from formal control or aesthetic alignment, but from shared logic and clear constraints. Another difficulty was avoiding familiar vintage tropes. Working with second-hand material can easily slip into visual nostalgia or romanticism. The system needed to feel current and direct, not dusty or referential. This required selectivity not only in what they used, but in what they avoided. The limitations became the framework holding everything together. By accepting constraints and resisting over-design, the identity achieved coherence through behaviour, producing varied but recognisable appearance.

The presentation to Bus happened as a surprise. Kruger and Klaver had developed the concept presentation without her knowledge, building it on a clear strategic foundation and reimagining the identity from inside out. When they finally showed her, the response was immediate. “It immediately clicked,” she recalls. “My first reaction was that the idea felt both clever and completely on point. Reusing fragments of existing brand logos mirrored exactly what we do with clothing, taking pre-loved pieces and giving them a second life.”

The customer response has been overwhelmingly positive. The stamp card system, where buying 10 pieces earns one item free, quickly became a favourite by reinforcing the €10 concept in tangible way. Customers enjoy discovering reworked garments and engaging with creative content like “TIEN out of TIEN favourites,” where staff and customers highlight personal picks. The identity has created a more personal and participatory atmosphere in the store, where customers feel invited to be part of the story whilst the team feels encouraged to experiment and connect in new ways.

The rebrand has strengthened TIEN’s presence within Groningen’s cultural scene, positioning it not just as a shop but as a playful, open community space. The fixed price model shifts the focus from cost to personal taste, making shopping more democratic and spontaneous whilst encouraging style experimentation. By giving pre-owned clothing a second life at a clear, affordable price point, TIEN combines accessibility, reuse and joy in a way that feels natural rather than prescriptive.