Ganfan Club
The mess hall of an imaginary terracotta army. Two-thousand-year-old soldiers who take eating very seriously, and a brand built on one proverb: 兵马未动，粮草先行. Eat first. March later.
The Chinese food brands that win share a pattern: a cultural hook with a twist, one ownable character, type used as image and a strict colour discipline. Heritage recast with humour, never museum-serious. The brief I set was to do all of that with one joke, told with a straight face: an army that marches on its stomach, and you have just joined it.
Deadpan military ceremony applied to snacks. Ranks, rations, orders and medals, all for food. The wordmark sits in a fan-leaf cartouche that is also a bowl seen from the side. A red square seal closes it. The cast is the Rice Troops: an archer, a baozi soldier, a general, a tea soldier, a noodle puller, a wok cook, a dumpling maker and a jianbing cook, all drawn in the packed black masses and paper gaps of a Han stone rubbing.
A kit of parts, not a template. Lucky red, yolk, jade and tea tan over ink and paper, each ink with a job. Twelve pattern tiles, twelve auspicious devices, scroll and fan frames. The rank system runs Private, Corporal, Centurion, General, and it sets the membership tiers, the cup sizes and the loyalty stamps. Every object gets its own idea: the snack pouch is a field ration, the receipt is a ration slip with a seal, the chopstick sleeve says people are iron, rice is steel.
Concept brand. Company details, people and product codes shown on the artwork are placeholders.
