I kept the original structure of the Hermès logo because I didn’t want to parody it. I wanted to disturb it without destroying it.
The circle remains intact — a symbol of legacy, exclusivity, containment. The orange stays loud and luxurious. At first glance, everything feels familiar. Then something shifts.
The horse, the figure of movement and power, is removed from its dominant position and placed at the bottom of the frame. It’s no longer leading. It’s grounded. Almost fallen. The carriage remains above — a structure without propulsion.
And the letters don’t stand proudly anymore. They fall inward. They lose balance. “Hermès” becomes “her mess” not through aggression, but through gravity.
This piece came from thinking about perfection — how it’s constructed, marketed, and expected. Especially from women. The demand to appear composed, elegant, unshakeable. The logo represents that polished exterior. But when you slightly shift power, slightly disrupt hierarchy, the whole system feels unstable.
The mess was always there. It was just hidden inside the circle.