Still Cherryfied (after all these years)

"Art has no end but its own perfection."

- Plato

I'm here to talk about The Can. Well, technically The Label because back in '92 we got our soda out of plastic 2 liter bottles in my household. And while the wrinkled cellophane wrapping paled in comparison to the sturdy lustrous aluminum, the purple zigzagged majesty and polka dotted cherry pattern that made up this modern Pop Art masterpiece could not be contained nor compromised by its own canvas. 

Cherry Coke was officially introduced to the public in the Summer of 1985, right alongside New Coke. Clearly, consumers preferred the former, and once New Coke disappeared, "Coca-Cola Cherry" absorbed all the attention and adoration (and sales). The thing about Coke is that for as many packaging changes they've run through, they've never noticeably rebranded; with transparent intention they've upheld their same cursive logo and solid red color scheme for over a century. And while I've found that Diet Coke remains to be its own thing (again, as intended) Cherry Coke provided a clean slate for fresh graphic design ideas to match the current aesthetic of any given time. (Pepsi took advantage of that from Day One.)

The initial Cherry design acted as a spinoff of the Diet design: serif print typeface employing the "Coke" shorthand over the obligatory Cola pinstripes. Even then those vivid candy apple accents over that stark white would stand out from across any pizza parlor. 

In '89 there were some bizarre regional Cherry Coke cans in the U.S. that foreshadowed the potential that this drink provoked. Coca-Cola (and perhaps all "sodas" or "pops" or "tonics" or "soft drinks") is like the elemental bloodstream of not just popular culture, but culture; it's a complex medicine, a low-key forbidden fruit with a growing stigma perpetrated by puritanical influencers, often disregarding the will of moderation, but much more than that, the pursuit of happiness (however brief). Since 1886 the company has rested on the shoulders of slogans like:

Pure as Sunlight (1927)

Sign of Good Taste (1957)

Have a Coke and a Smile (1979)

When Coca-Cola is a Part of Your Life, You Can't Beat the Feeling (1987)

Life Tastes Good (2001)

And if one were able to muster up the bravery to look beyond the They Live rhetoric of "BUY THIS AND IT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY" and acknowledge that not only is it harmless, but therapeutic, then maybe there would be a greater sense of peace and unity like the advertising promised. 

But when you add Cherry to this magic spell it becomes less wholesome, less commercial. Cherry is flirty, it's suggestive; you share a Coke with a friend, but a Cherry Coke is more than friends and this sorta approach and aesthetic came out in the promotional stuff as well as on the label. 

Then, in 1992, this perceived mood shifted from Summer Fling to Summer Vacation as Cherry Coke officially changed their branding to what I consider to be a pinnacle of contemporary graphic design, but also to something noticeably more playful and pure (and that's not just because I was 9 years old). What was initially introduced as a mid 80s Vaporwave milestone had gracefully transformed into an early 90s cartoon, and it was only incidental that I happened to be at the right age. 

I'm always excited to call attention to the Pop Art revival of this era, but it's rarely recognized as the paradoxical movement that it truly was. The initial midcentury Pop Art period was largely about repurposing familiar and popular imagery into an ironic framework. By the 1990s the flavor and structure of the art was being utilized by the corporations and advertisers who were the original butt of the joke, thereby creating a whole new level of incidental irony: MTV, Nickelodeon, video games, junk food, anything sold to kids was capturing (in a very successful and attractive way) the spirit and tone of Warhol, Renquist, and Lichtenstein. And beyond the commercials and magazine ads, the quality made its way onto tangible items - namely products, specifically Cherry Coke.

There's nothing more poisonous to a point being made than, "Back in my day, things were better (or worse), easier (or harder); considerably different than they are now, ergo more substantial." I was a child when soda cans looked like this, but this is less of a nostalgia trip and more Art Appreciation. (Though I'm sure in the age of Monet there were those who asserted Manet was better.) But I believe Cherry Coke labels peaked from 1992-1995 and I don't care who knows it. 

The aggressively cartoonish logo in '95 was a harsh adaptation that felt like another product entirely - somewhere between a sour hard candy and a failed Fox primetime animated series - but of course now in hindsight it was just creative and outrageous enough to blend in with the art gallery that adorned every aisle of every store. But for the brief black and purple years, we were all blessed with a beauty that transcended even the fruity carbonated nectar within its magnificent vessel; as eye-catching graphic glamour aimed at consumers, it did its job - I've never liked Cherry Coke as much as I did when it was wrapped in this masterpiece, and it certainly doesn't taste as good in its current drabness. 

I discuss this stuff to entertain and inform, but also to create an awareness that could perhaps culminate into an actual throwback gimmick from the Coca-Cola Company - everyone from movies to McDonald's have been recycling the past to middling effect, so why not tackle this seemingly simple contribution to the trend? That's the generous thing about Pop Art: it's disposable but repetitious and easily reproducible.

- Paul