Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
The club name laid out the way a rink paints it on the boards — a long gold-edged bar, the dog in a roundel at one end, a stick and puck running out of the other. It is the widest thing we draw and the only one built to be read sideways, at speed, by somebody going past it.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
The club name laid out the way a rink paints it on the boards — a long gold-edged bar, the dog in a roundel at one end, a stick and puck running out of the other. It is the widest thing we draw and the only one built to be read sideways, at speed, by somebody going past it.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
The club name laid out the way a rink paints it on the boards — a long gold-edged bar, the dog in a roundel at one end, a stick and puck running out of the other. It is the widest thing we draw and the only one built to be read sideways, at speed, by somebody going past it.
The club name laid out the way a rink paints it on the boards — a long gold-edged bar, the dog in a roundel at one end, a stick and puck running out of the other. It is the widest thing we draw and the only one built to be read sideways, at speed, by somebody going past it.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
The dog looks straight out at you and fills the frame, two sticks crossed behind its head, the lot held in one heavy gold ring. There is no lettering on it anywhere, and that is the point: it is the one mark here that loses nothing by being small.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.
Two gold rings enclose the dog in three-quarter profile above a pair of crossed sticks. GOLDEN arches over the top, RETRIEVERS runs round the foot, and the whole thing behaves the way a club crest is meant to — formal, symmetrical, and a good deal older-looking than the club is.
A full roundel, gold on the arch and white round the foot: GOLDEN over the top, RETRIEVERS underneath, the dog centred on a pair of crossed sticks and a puck. It is the busiest thing we draw and it wants room, which is why we print it large and never stitch it small.
Drawn to look like something you would sew onto a bag: a tall octagon with GOLDEN across the top, the dog in profile between two upright sticks, and RETRIEVERS on a white banner at the foot. It is the tallest thing we draw, half again as high as it is wide, in a set where almost everything else is a circle.
Two sticks cross behind a shield with the dog at its centre, GOLDEN on the gold banner above it, RETRIEVERS on the banner below, and a puck at the point. Every piece of it stands slightly proud of the piece behind it, which keeps the drawing open — it never closes up into a solid block the way a tighter crest does.
Two retrievers sit nose to tail inside one black disc, the upper dog in gold and the lower in white, a puck loose in each open corner and the centre line ticked in gold at either edge. Nobody has won the draw yet.
Two retrievers meet nose to nose over a dropped puck inside a gold capsule, one gold and one white, GOLDEN RETRIEVERS on the banner underneath. It is called the Boop, it has been called the Boop since the day it was drawn, and it is far too late to call it anything else.
The club name laid out the way a rink paints it on the boards — a long gold-edged bar, the dog in a roundel at one end, a stick and puck running out of the other. It is the widest thing we draw and the only one built to be read sideways, at speed, by somebody going past it.
The dog looks straight out at you and fills the frame, two sticks crossed behind its head, the lot held in one heavy gold ring. There is no lettering on it anywhere, and that is the point: it is the one mark here that loses nothing by being small.
A white retriever in profile with a stick clamped across its jaw, set on a gold roundel scored with white curves — and both the stick and the dog break out past the rim of it. It is the only mark we print whose field is gold instead of black, which is why it arrives warmer than anything hanging next to it.
A retriever stands there in a gold and black sweater cut for a much bigger dog — sleeves bunched over both front paws, the crest on the chest, tail out the back. Every other mark in this shop is a badge. This one is just the dog.