Wouldn't you love a nice pint of "Stress Free" ice cream right now? What about “Depression Free” ice cream? Or maybe “Student-Debt Free” ice cream would hit the spot?
I get angry in the ice cream aisle at the grocery store. I find myself agonizing over every label, trying to find a good tasting ice cream that isn't full of random crap, and also isn't that expensive. I spend all this time looking around, over-thinking it, trying to decide between a million flavors, and then I get home and eat the entire pint in one sitting, only to immediately regret it. Relatable?
The labeling I wrote out for each flavor is completely arbitrary, which is how I feel about most brands' labeling. They try to swoon you with their official certifications and their commonplace origin stories. I’m sick of it.
I feel like I’ve spent enough time in the ice cream aisle to say that I’m jaded. It will be a long time before a new brand scores my loyal patronage.
The flavors are not your typical chocolate and vanilla. Instead, they are bullet points on a laundry list of serious issues and concerns that exist in both your own little world and the massively complicated outside world. As an observant consumer, you are constantly forced to choose wisely. You might be still deciding at the eleventh hour which flavor you want.
DID YOU HEAR THAT?
The installation of 11THOUR is two related entities: the outdated version and the modern version of the same brand.
The clean, sculptural display of the modern, block-colored pints, juxtaposed with the run-down ice cream stand to the left, vibrantly portrays a freshly rebranded version of 11THOUR. It's as if Mom & Pop retired, and their millennial grandchild took over the family business.