The Unfiltered Story of Crafting a Logo for Snai Tondo

The first time I laid eyes on the brief for Snai Tondo, I felt a jolt. Not the kind that comes from caffeine, but the sharp, electric kind that says, 'This is going to be different.' The challenge wasn’t just about slapping together a logo; it was about distilling the essence of Snai Italia into something that could sit on a screen or a billboard and still whisper, 'You know what I’m about.'

The UX of their platform was slick, almost deceptively so. I remember scrolling through their site, the way the bonus offers popped—250% welcome bonus, 1200 EUR plus 250 free spins—and thinking, 'This isn’t just generosity; it’s a statement.' The colors, the typography, even the way the payment methods were listed—secure, fast—it all screamed confidence. But how do you bottle that into a logo?

I started sketching, but not on paper. My mind was the canvas, and I was erasing more than I was drawing. The circular motif—tondo—kept pulling me back. Circles are safe, right? They’re endless, inclusive. But Snai Italia wasn’t just safe; it was bold. The bonus alone was a flex. So I broke the circle. Not literally, but I fractured it, gave it edges where it shouldn’t have had any. It felt like cheating, but it worked.

Then there was the typography. I’d read somewhere that Paul Rand once said, 'Design is the silent ambassador of your brand.' Well, Snai Italia’s ambassador needed to speak Italian, but with a universal accent. I played with fonts that had weight, that could stand next to the fractured circle and not look out of place. The 'S' had to curve just right—too much and it was flirty, too little and it was cold. It took 17 iterations before I stopped hating it.

The surprises came in the details. The way the logo had to scale—from a favicon to a stadium banner—without losing its grit. Or how the negative space between the fractured lines could hint at motion, like a wheel turning or a slot reeling. I’d never thought about negative space like that before. It wasn’t just empty; it was part of the story.

I tested it. Not just on screens, but on people. My neighbor, who’d never heard of Snai Italia, looked at it and said, 'It’s got energy.' No prompts, no leading questions. Just pure, unfiltered reaction. That’s when I knew it was close. Not perfect, but close enough to make me forget about perfection.

In the end—wait, no, not 'in the end.' Let’s say at the point where I stopped tweaking, the logo felt like it belonged. Not because it ticked boxes, but because it felt like it had always been there. Like the bonus offers and the secure payments, it was part of the ecosystem. And that’s the thing about good design: it doesn’t announce itself. It just is.