The crocodile had a life before it had brand guidelines. Nickname. Bet. Embroidery. Shirt. Each step added meaning before anybody asked the symbol to express “premium sporting excellence with timeless authenticity”, or whatever expensive porridge would be written now.

That history makes the mark difficult to copy. Anyone can draw a reptile. Only one can point back to Lacoste wearing his nickname on the court. The asset is distinctive because the story and shape grew together. Companies regularly ignore their own peculiar material while hunting for universal virtues. Trusted. Innovative. Human. Premium. Four words claimed by banks, biscuits, software and probably a municipal drain-cleaning service. They are ambitions, perhaps. They are useless fingerprints.

The memorable raw material is often less dignified: an old delivery vehicle, the founder’s dreadful signature, a tool colour chosen so it would not vanish in mud, a customer nickname that stuck. Specific history carries bumps. Company folklore can also be tedious, and no charming origin rescues a weak product. The test is whether people already repeat the detail and whether it gives the brand a recognisable object, phrase or behaviour. If the answer is yes, preserve the oddness before a committee improves it into vapour. Lacoste kept the original bet, court and nickname close enough that the reptile never became a generic badge. That is a useful standard for the next brand-history workshop.

Behavioural principles

Behavioural ideas at play in this post

Short, plain-English explanations of the principles behind this post, with links to related books and examples in the archive.