#branding

[dreamgrlarchive]

what’s the impoartance of branding and how did you find your brand

Branding Yourself 🎀

why do you buy lingerie from victoria’s secret and not target? why do you go to starbucks instead of looking for a local coffee shop? it’s the way these entities have displayed their aesthetic, values, and more than anything: THEIR AURA. they’re displaying a feeling that you can only get if you indulge in their goods and services.

when you carry yourself in whatever fashion that happens to be, imagine a logo plastered all over yourself. who’s attention do you want to grab with that logo? you’re showing potential employers, friends, love interests, what they’ll be getting when in collaboration with you. so this. this is what’s important about branding.

My Brand 🎀

i wanted to feel not only feminine in energy, but hyperfeminine in appearance… but with a cloak of sex appeal, maturity and exclusivity

i recently found and accepted that i am not “cute” aesthetically. i’m far more often seen as “pretty” or “sexy” and working against my natural beauty archetype was hurting me badly

my color palette of midtone pink, black, white, gray, and nude/brown convey a feminine look while being grounded in minimalism from the neutral colors

“hot older sister” look because i am an actual older sister

sex kitten, video vixen, and victoria’s secret angel are archetypes/aesthetics i identify and get associated with often

i leaned into my result from vindicta’s feminine archetype quiz (the aphrodite + the diva)

i compiled a list of words i identify with and channeled them in my self expression and how i carry myself

studying my birth chart and infusing my natural traits into my essence with intent

all these things i’ve compiled over time and lots of trial and error to reach what i call #theprissygirlagenda (i can make a detailed post about this in the future)

things my followers said they associate with me, ie. “prissy girl core”:

louis vuitton bags, french tips, fur details, cheetah print, rhinestones, silk presses, fuzzy pens, rap and r&b, sexy over cute, hoop earrings

How to Build Yours 🎀

how do you wanna feel

how do you wanna be seen

what do you want out of life

these three questions will help you be able to reach a conclusion in conjunction with the resources below 🎀💕💗

What Even Is… #ThePrissyGirlAgenda?

My Guide to Making a Beauty Binder

Reinvention by @thevirgodoll

Tips for Self-Discovery by @femmefatalevibe

Walking in High Heels by @prettyvixenavenue

Discovering Your “Vibe” 1 & 2 by @FILLEFATALE on twitter

How to Build Your Personal Brand and Self Concept by @femmefatalevibe

She Is So Bougie Checklist by @babyphat05

Quizzes that Helped Me Develop My Brand

Vindicta Feminine Archetype Quiz + System

13 Feminine Seduction Archetypes Quiz

Tips to Enhance Your Natural Features

BabyPhat05’s Bougie Guide 101

Pretty Privilege by @2pretty

Understanding Archetypes by @femmefatalevibe

-xoxo!

[linecrosser]

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi suggested "possessive whumper"

my instant thought was "marking/branding as property", so here we are!

[hermajestyimher]

Let's Discuss: Branding

Whether conscious of it or not, every one of us exudes a personal brand. It's how society and those around us subconsciously associate us through the characteristics we embody to the world.

Before we open our mouths to speak with others, our superficial appearance and aura are already doing the talking for us. How you dress, carry, and express yourself speaks volumes of the kind of person you are and the qualities that set you apart from the rest, and these are things that do not go unnoticed by others.

It has often become cliché to use high-end brands as analogous for this subject, but there is truth to those analogies nonetheless. When someone thinks of a highly coveted and sophisticated brand, they think of exclusivity, quality, and excellence, and by default associate that brand with wealth, status, and class. While humans do not intrinsically possess a monetary value, as nobody is inherently superior to another person, our brandings do have a value. Our brandings and the superficial image of ourselves we portray to the world can land us in places, around people, and open doors and opportunities that a branding perceived as cheaper would never be able to.

We all have the ability to elevate our branding through the choices we make each and every single day not just with superficial aspects such as clothing, style, or demeanor, but also through the way in which we internalize our sense of self. The content we consume greatly dictates how we perceive ourselves and the environment around us and subsequently makes us more prone to behave and present ourselves in very specific ways.

So, whenever you feel tempted to entertain an action that is not in alignment with the personal branding you are aiming to exude, take a pause, breath, and reroute yourself back to maintaining your brand within the boundaries of the qualities you've decided for yourself. This can be done completely by shifting your internal identity, or through the use of an alter ego, or both.

When you become settled in your own self-assured sense of self, it will be harder to allow the world around you to influence you in ways that do not align with the kind of person you are looking to embody, this will cause countless opportunities to open themselves up for you.

If you are a Porsche, don't behave like a Honda.

[theminimalisto]

[sorrysomethingwentwrong]

Ilya Stallone ‘Medieval Branding’

[lumpofwhump]

Whumper found themself rooted in place, now face to face with the furious Caretaker broken free of their restraints. They were wielding Whumper’s favorite branding iron, heated up and ready to go.

“One thousand, three hundred and fifty eight,” Caretaker said in an icy monotone as they approached. Their many injuries didn’t slow them down in the least, instead making them if anything more terrifying.

“W-what?” Whumper asked with a thin, anxious laugh. “What’s that supposed —”

“That’s the number of times you hurt Whumpee,” Caretaker answered. “They were only one kind of lucky in all this.”

Behind them, Whumpee shifted uncomfortably in the two blankets draped over their gaunt frame.

Whumper looked equally unnerved. “How?”

“They had it spread out over seven years. You?” Caretaker abruptly thrust Whumper’s favorite branding iron forward, stopping it a mere inch from Whumper’s throat. “You’ll have to take it all in one go.”

“C-Caretaker, please…!” Whumpee interjected, eyes wide and horrified.

Not lowering their weapon in the slightest, Caretaker spared them a glance. “You don’t have to stay and watch,” they said to Whumpee in a voice as gentle as their tone had been harsh in speaking to Whumper. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

Whumpee fled the room immediately without another word of protest. Meanwhile, Whumper gulped as Caretaker turned to them with cold fury in their eyes and started forward.

“Just be glad I’m not going to include my own injuries here,” Caretaker told them. “Then again, I don’t get the sense you’ll survive long enough for that to be an issue.”

With that, they jerked the branding iron ever so slightly to the left and pressed it against the skin of Whumper’s shoulder. Just as Whumper had done to Whumpee that first night of their captivity. Whumper let out the first scream of many.

[designeverywhere]

Royal Chambers

[twaz]

YOOO the brand/design work i did for Tim The Tatman is now in Call of Duty — this is wild, and superbly integrated by the IW team. well deserved, congrats tim.

[ninetynine-centdreams]

 branding for Babel 

(Studio) from A to B

[scalingtomillions]

You don’t “try to start a business” you give it your all or nothing. Businesses don’t fail. People fail their businesses.

[dreamgrlarchive]

clothing brands i’m obsessed with right now 🎀

💗 fanci club, sandy liang, i am gia, truth or dare, fine girl, fun plus cute, o’dolly dearest, hidden cult, frankie’s bikinis, poster girl, skims

i’m currently loving: muted pinks paired with neutral colors, lace detailing, fur trims, ribbons, rhinestone lettering, girly effortless athleisure, pink minimalism

brands aren’t as important as the look is. i’m not above finding more adorable substitutes as long as i’m still giving prissy

[jstor]

Is it just us, or does everyone like anthropomorphic fruit? Yeah, it's probably just us. Anyway, here are some selections from the UC Davis Lug and Can Label Collection on JSTOR. There are more than 3,000 of these things from 1890 to 1970, and the collection is open to all!

[mcplestreet]

𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔇𝔞𝔶 𝔰𝔦𝔵: 𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤

minors DNI

pairing: jealous!billy hargrove x gender neutral!reader

summary: when billy hears a rumor about you flirting with jason carver he’s got no choice but to make it clear who owns you. even if the rumor isn’t true

content warnings: dom/sub dynamic, branding, knife play

word count: 1.8k

tags: @heavenlyhandscribbles @angeliiaa @eddieverse @gayskittlelesbian @canislupus-exe @mlmmetalhead @keevathediva @frogydude233 @licktomsass @my-my-only-angel @yourmommaissofine @m-rae23 @corrodedhawkins

commissions | masterlist | kinktober masterlist | taglist

Laying flat on your back you gaze up at Billy in anticipation while he’s straddling your waist and rotating a pocket knife between two fingers. Technically it was yours; but he had bought it and he was the only one who ever really used it. Still, you carried it around wherever you went after Billy insisted you be able to protect yourself regardless of if he was around or not.

The cuts were always small; Billy always said that there was no need to rush through the destruction of your perfect skin. He wanted to take his time with the canvas that was your body. They were all on your back or stomach, easily concealable with any shirt in your wardrobe. Always long or deep; never both. Not yet.

But as you had moved to climb into the passenger's seat of his car he brushed behind you and whispered in your ear with a voice that sent a shiver down your spine that he had something waiting for you when you got back to his house. It hadn’t been a surprise when he pushed you down onto his bed and slipped your pocket knife from your front pocket, fingers grazing against your crotch in a way that was all too deliberate, but it wasn’t something he usually announced.

But as you had moved to climb into the passenger's seat of his car he brushed behind you and whispered in your ear with a voice that sent a shiver down your spine that he had something waiting for you when you got back to his house. It hadn’t been a surprise when he pushed you down onto his bed and slipped your pocket knife from your front pocket, fingers grazing against your crotch in a way that was all too deliberate, but it wasn’t something he usually announced.

Then there’s the look on his face. Lips turned up on one side and bearing a few teeth, brows inching upward, and a hungry glint in his eye as his gaze dances between the blade in his hands and the exposed skin of your torso.

“So,” you say slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows. Annoyance flashes through his expression at the movement but, for the time being at least, you ignore it. “What you had waiting for me is the same old same old?”

This time the annoyance isn’t fleeting as his grip on the handle tightens just enough to pale his knuckles. “Same old same old?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe what you’ve just said to him. “So today’s one of the days where you’ve got a smart mouth, huh?”

“No,” you say lamely, though you know there’s no changing his mind. “You just don’t normally… give me a warning about it. I just thought maybe you wanted to try something new.”

Some of the harshness in his expression softens and the smirk returns to his cherry red lips. “Well you’d be right about that sweetheart,” he says, putting a hand on your chest and forcing you down onto your back once more before pointing at you with the blade. “A little birdie told me,” he says. Slowly, teasingly, mockingly. “That you were flirting with Jason Carver today.”

Your jaw nearly drops open. “Um, no,” you say flatly, hardly bothering to keep disgust from crossing over your face. “Jason was flirting with me. I was just trying to get to the vending machine he was standing in front of.”

Billy wags the knife at you. “Well apparently that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Being nice and flirting aren’t the same thing.”

“See, I know that,” he says, dragging the tip of the knife down your stomach without an ounce of pressure and making you shiver. “But guys like Jason, they don’t know that. So they might as well be the same thing. Cause I won’t have someone thinking they have a chance at taking what’s mine.”

He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out his lighter, flicking it open with a swift motion of his wrist. Your stomach does a backflip before plummeting to the centre of the earth at the sight of it in one hand and your knife in the other. You know what he’s thinking in an instant.

“There’s gonna be no mistake about it,” he says, unbuttoning your jeans with two fingers before tugging them and your underwear down just enough to expose your pelvis. “You’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes are glued to the flame that he runs across the tip of the blade, heating it up to a temperature you have a hard time calculating. Everything in you feels frozen with anticipation. Completely at his mercy. Like prey cornered by a predator. It’s a feeling that’s common in Billy’s presence and it had long since stopped bothering you.

“You scared?” he asks, lifting his gaze up from the flame and blade only for a moment. His way of asking if you’re okay with what’s gonna happen.

“Only a little,” you confess, with a slight wobble in your voice that makes a crease settle between his brows. “Mostly cause I don’t know how it’s gonna feel.”

“Well you just tell me if you can’t handle it, sweetheart.” Though his tone is teasing you know he would stop if you asked him to. If you meant it.

“I can,” you insist, wiggling your hips to get more comfortable and noticing how his gaze watches the movement hungrily. “Just don’t know what to expect is all.”

“Same as always,” he answers, tossing the lighter to the side and lowering down so that he’s laying on his stomach between your legs, elbows propping him up while he hovers the knife above your skin close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of it. “Just a lot hotter.” He cocks an eyebrow as he looks up at you from long and curled lashes. “Are you gonna scream?”

“Probably,” you answer honestly.

Something ignites in Billy’s dilated pupils and he lowers the knife, glancing at you for a last minute objection before the blade touches your skin.

You certainly do scream. The noise rips from your throat but the pain it leaves in its wake is nothing compared to the searing heat on your hip that makes your sight go black. For an amount of time you’re completely ignorant to all you know is agonizing heat and the sound of your own yelling. Had you been able to think clearly you would have been surprised that Billy hadn’t shut you up to keep the neighbors from calling the cops or coming to check on you themselves.

The pain subsides enough that your vision begins to clear and you force yourself to pick your head up and look down at Billy who looks about as pleased as a kid on Christmas. You let your head fall back onto the mattress and wipe away the tears that had begun to pool in your eyes while he presses kisses along your thighs and pelvis. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks, and when you offer only a whimper in reply he moves so your legs are over his shoulders. “You wanna stop?”

“No,” you answer, and you mean it.

Something in his eyes lights up and makes your stomach do a backflip. “You gonna keep screaming?”

“Probably.”

With his hand not holding the knife Billy grabs your discarded shirt and tosses it over your face. As you bunch up some of the fabric and stick it between your teeth Billy’s spare hand resting on the other side of your hip pushes you into the mattress and you wonder if you had struggled against him before without realizing it.

Knowing what to anticipate this time the second connection of the blade to your skin is easier to bear but your eyes screw shut and you cry out into the wadded up shirt all the same. Your hands fly to his hair, hastily grabbing his curls in your fists to ground yourself in the sea of agony you’ve resigned yourself to, and though you know he hates having his hair messed up you also know that he’ll let you if you’re truly in pain. Which you most certainly are.

You feel a bit as if you’re drowning in the feeling, into a sea of boiling water. Though the heat of the blade is connected with a fraction of your body you feel it on every inch of your skin, in every molecule of your existence. It swallows you as easily as a whale would a prawn, leaving you to swim around in it with no means of escape. At least until your predator decides he’s done with you.

You’re half curious about what he’s carving into your skin, what will be a part of you until the day you start to rot in the ground, and had you had the mental capability you would have chastised yourself for not asking him what he was branding you with. But you trust Billy. Despite the fact that every sign points you in the opposite direction and all your friends and family you’ve confided in about him beg you to follow its path. It’s all for nought. Billy has marked your heart and soul. It seems only right he share his permanence with your body.

The pain doesn’t stop when the blade is removed from your skin. You feel like you’ve been split open. Like if you dare to move a muscle to do anything other than breathe the pain will begin again. As you swim in the pool of agony that you allowed you worry how long it will be before you’re able to regain function of yourself.

Billy's arms wrapped around your thighs on his shoulder, hands running across your legs and hips through your jeans like one would do to a cat getting a vaccination, keep you from complete submersion. You focus on his touch and reassurance until your vision begins to clear and your breathing comes to you easier.

“Is that it?” you ask, voice thick with tears that you don’t bother to wipe away.

“Yes,” he answers. He crawls up you, careful not to touch his work in the process, until he’s propped up on either side of your head and he’s pressing feather light kisses along your jawline. “You did so good.”

“Can I see?”

You feel his lips smirk against your skin. “Of course.”

You order him to help you up and over to the mirror on the back of the door and you know he only doesn’t punish you because after the one you’d just received you wouldn’t be able to handle another one. He doesn’t complain as you hold onto his arm until your nails dig into his skin while he leads you over to the door with his hand on the small of your back. Though he whispers praise in your ear the effort it takes to move so soon after makes everything sound like you’re underwater.

He keeps his hands high up on either side of your waist as you gingerly tug your jeans and underwear down a little more to see better and in the reflection you see how elated it is.

Your breath gets caught in your throat and your lips twitch upward on their own accord when your eyes land on the red, searing, puffy, and bubbling skin on your hip.

BH

[thedsgnblog]

Branding for Road Diner by Pop & Pac

One of the first, if not the very first Diner in the world, was established in Rhode Island USA in 1892. Walter Scott was the owner and it is said his most popular item at the time was a Chicken sandwich. This inspired the name, narrative and visual identity for Road Diner. Project/Client: @road.diner Creative Partners: @andrew_cunneen (web development) @annikakafcaloudis (photography)

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[sharedbythom]

Mushroom Compadres by Ochodias Studio.

[lilaira]

branding me yours <3