#flag carriers

But in reality that’s only the beginning. Yes, Lufthansa’s livery is specifically disappointing, but it is so much more than that. It is the purest distillation of the greatest challenge aviation faces today, far weightier than scheduling issues, outdated IT, and runway incursions. It is not the worst example of it, not in the slightest, but it is a large airline which has a very textbook presentation of symptoms and thus feels like a great example to describe exactly what I hate about this sort of design. Let me explain. 

Essentially, airlines have found a formula. It goes as such: 

Almost entirely white body. (There is a name for this trend: Eurowhite.) In some cases, there may be a colour on the underside, generally either a light grey or whichever secondary shade the airline has committed to. In the case of this Lufthansa livery, it is just white. 

Aside from the white body there will be either a single colour (generally some dark blue, or less often some sort of red) or a few colours, usually but not exclusively on flag carriers to match their national branding. (The proliferation of red, white, and blue flags out there means that a disproportionate number of airline liveries are these colours.) Unless it is literally just a white plane meant to be as generic as possible for short turn-overs when leasing, it will at least attempt to have some sort of design, but it will be minimal, and:

All of the detail will be on the tail. There may be coloured winglets or engine nacelles, but other than that it is only at the rear of the plane that you begin to see any interest. Usually this is just a logo, though it may be an abstract design which looks like a default tumblr header. It will often only be on the tail, with nothing at all on the body proper.

The name of the airline written in a sans-serif typeface which is set as default on at least one word processor. Rarely will anything creative be done with this. It will (usually, except in egregious cases) match the impotent attempt at graphic design which has been confined to the empennage and it will have all the charm of a large retail chain’s flyer describing the benefits you’ll definitely totally get if you work for them - sickeningly corporate. Low-cost airlines may slightly vary the theme by putting their website onto the livery, either towards the back or just instead of the airline’s name. The brave will also write it on the ventral fairing, but most don’t even bother with that simple act. Some airlines have their name written in the language spoken in the country they’re based in, usually beside the English text, but most are only in English despite operating in countries where this is not the most widely spoken language. 

Not every livery which has these features is badly designed, as seemingly small changes can make all the difference. There is the occasional livery that fits most, if not all of these features that has some clever tweaks or design choices which makes me actually think it’s fine, acceptable, maybe even decent. (I have taken the initiative of making sure a few of these are among my early posts, just to demonstrate that it can be done). And some airlines depart from this entirely and come up with something even more hideous. Yet I somehow find myself respecting even these more than I do Lufthansa. 

The Corporate Standard Livery Design (Lufthansesque design, if you will) is - and I do not think I am being dramatic at all here - an epidemic. Taxiing through most airports, you sometimes have to actually try to tell the planes parked around you apart in the sea of red, blue, and mostly white. And I spend a lot of time looking at planes.  

These liveries do not only fail to inspire me. They instill in me a profound disgust. They are not trying to be good. They are trying to be what I described earlier - decent, not worth complaining about, because that’s cheaper and easier than designing something good. Graphic design is not anyone’s passion here. They’re just trying to toe the line. They’re so poisoned by the modern minimalist-design brain virus that they don’t realise that to be acceptable a livery this simple needs to do something interesting. There must be a creative decision made somewhere, a compelling feature, or you may as well be flying an MLA-formatted plane. In their striving for adequacy they become not just ambient, but lukewarm. They are a bottle of water which has sat in the sun for so long that when you drink it, even though you’re overheating and parched, it feels only negligibly better than the air you’ve been breathing in. 

To be fair, I do not only hate the Lufthansa paintjob because it exemplifies whatever-ness. Even in an industry saturated with gross in-flight nothingburgers served with some stale biscuits and a paper cup of Lipton tea, Lufthansa manages to offend in specific and unique ways. 

Throughout its long history Lufthansa has had a handful of different liveries, but from 2018 onwards this has been the situation. They’ve never been brilliant, but it’s only gotten worse over time. I normally would commit to a separate post for historical liveries, but in a move that I don’t foresee becoming particularly common I’d like to talk about the history and evolution of Lufthansa’s liveries from the golden age to now - the fall, if you will. 

(image: lufthansa bildarchiv)

Their early liveries were already pretty much plain white or metal, but they still had a few features that made them seem a bit less like photocopy paper which was meant to be printed plain blue but only got through a tenth of the sheet before ink ran out. To begin with, they used a lighter blue and combined it with a vivid yellow to add some actual visual interest. The layering of the yellow over the blue where it curves around and below the nose and on the ends of the tailplane actually draws the eye. The font choice is nice and legible, spaced apart in the center of the fuselage. I imagine it was easy to read even from far away. (Shame it’s a bit blocked by the wings from some angles, though.)

(image: lufthansa bildarchiv)

This early 707 design keeps the cheatlines extending past the nose but makes them sharper than the ones on the Connie to match the sleek profile of the jet. Back when this plane was painted adding white to your plane was a choice rather than the thing everybody was doing, which allows me to respect it for the choice it was instead of considering it the factory default. The bottom half, denoted by the cheatline, is left unpainted, which only adds to the sleekness of the overall profile, and the text is clear and plain but still aesthetically pleasing. The 707 is by modern standards pretty antique-looking; you can take one look at one and tell it isn’t particularly streamlined. This paint scheme, though, makes the plane look sharp and aerodynamic, despite not being revolutionary. I would go so far as to say I like this particular livery. This is, unfortunately, as good as it gets. 

Oh. Oh no...

Let’s assess the damage here. The cheatlines now simply meet at the front without wrapping down to the belly of the plane and the nose is a simple black tip. I like it when airlines paint their planes’ radomes, and I wouldn’t mind it here if not for what it was replacing. The font has been replaced with a generic sans serif font which is closely spaced and put up into a corner, like the name on a homework assignment - it’s not really part of the total package, just there for administrative purposes. Most upsetting to me is the tail. While I wouldn’t say I love the little section on the old plane, it at least felt like it belonged there, creating a second blue-and-yellow layer above the white. Its placement on the fin above where it begins to taper gives the plane a bit of an aerodynamic feel. It’s certainly not changing the world, but it feels at home in the livery. 

The new fin is a sharp downgrade. With nothing to mark the transition the fin abruptly goes from the white of the upper fuselage to a shiny blue which contains an enclave of the only yellow to be found on the entire aircraft. This makes the yellow stand out, as it has nothing to tie it in with the rest of the plane, and the fin itself feels almost like it’s been Frankensteined onto the fuselage from a different plane by a different airline. There’s nothing to mediate the transition from a block of white to a block of blue, like how the cheatline separates white and grey. It just is blue now, stop asking questions. This also means that the only part of the plane that the eye is really drawn to is...the tiny portion of the whole that is the fin, which may as well be floating detached in midair. 

This is foreboding. Knowing what I know now, it feels like looking back at when a romantic partner began to act strange years later, after the divorce, as you walk by the house he bought with his mistress. 

(image: g najberg)

The most recent, and only, time I flew on Lufthansa was in 2014 and was aboard one of their 747-400s. (Actually, if you’d still like to fly on a passenger 747, Lufthansa is basically your only option.) At the time, they looked like this. This is...just sad. They got rid of the cheatlines, because that’s trendy now, and they painted the whole plane white and made an attempt at lip service to the old metal lower half by painting just a bit of the plane grey, like if a human stepped into a puddle of paint that only covered the very sole of their foot. And I’m being generous by showing a 747, a plane which inherently makes any livery look less boring by being interestingly shaped itself, instead of the classic slightly pointy single-decker tube. Not to mention the double-decker design makes the text vertically centered instead of the default Lufthansa look of awkwardly shoved nearly all the way up the fuselage. 

In defense of the modern livery, it’s possible to argue it’s an improvement on this. Honestly, looking at them next to each other, it’s difficult to pick out which one I find less defensible. 

But then you see D-AIDV, an A321 painted in a heritage livery, and you feel the immediate, visceral “no!!! no go back!!!” as you remember that this is a false dichotomy and we could have something so much better if they weren’t peer-pressured into generic modern design. 

And for what? For this?

(image: hvdfonts)

For the third time, I remind you of what we have been reduced to. We have achieved a state of reductio ad absurdum where this barely qualifies as a design. This plane is more or less a white blot. You can put as many insets as you want and it is still a white blot. 

I am relatively sure that the font used is literally Helvetica. EDIT: I have been informed that it is not, in fact, Helvetica, but a custom typeface that happens to look almost exactly like Helvetica. This is, in my own opinion, worse! They did apparently use Helvetica in the past, though. Here is a very detailed description of the design process of the font, which manages to contain a grand total of zero ideas. 

I would hate this on its own already, but it’s also so closely spaced and located so far up that it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. In my own experience as a dyslexic person, kerning is the single weightiest feature when it comes to if I can easily read something or not. While Helvetica, ugly though it may be, is generally considered a very legible font, any benefits from that are more than cancelled out by committing to making sure the entire name of the airline fits between the frontmost two doors with room to spare. It feels almost hostile.

Now, all given, I at least somewhat enjoy the shade of blue used for this livery, which is darker than the normal fare. I do miss the way the grey broke up the endless white space, though, and I mourn the yellow even more - in addition to being something to look at, losing it has also lost any visible reference to the flag of Germany, the country for which Lufthansa is the flag carrier. They don’t even have the black part of the German flag despite that being basically free. If they went for black instead of dark blue I would honestly respect this a hell of a lot more. One of the most recognizable flags in the world and instead your airline looks like a discount SAS.  

Yeah, I said it. If we want to go even further with comparisons by including airlines that aren’t Lufthansa, this is basically the SAS livery. Except not, because the SAS livery does a lot that this doesn’t. 

This is about Lufthansa, not SAS. I’ll look at SAS soon enough, because comparing their look to Lufthansa’s has made me appreciate it in a way I never used to. But I don’t think I need to elaborate too much for it to be clear why SAS’s livery works and Lufthansa’s doesn’t, despite the superficial similarities. SAS took their absolutely horrid previous livery and turned it into something which might not wow anyone but at least feels uniquely theirs, while Lufthansa had something which accomplished much the same and then diluted it into nothingness, Eurowhite writ large. Two washes and you’d wonder if your Lufthansa flight is actually a Smartlynx lease.  

The way that the blue slices into the bottom of the fuselage and doesn’t fully cover the tailfin is...something? It’s a design element. It’s not nearly enough to save it, but it’s a design element. However, this presents another issue specific to Lufthansa’s paint job, best demonstrated with a specific plane: 

(image: lufthansa)

Lufthansa is the world’s largest operator of the Airbus A340, a somewhat eccentric airplane which is perhaps best thought of as a four-engined A330. I love this airplane, and am delighted seeing it overhead on my walk home from work, because Lufthansa is kind enough to operate a daily service with it to my home airport, but that’s beside the point. The point is this: what I have pictured is specifically the A340-600, which is the world’s second longest in-service airliner. Yes, longer than the A380 and the 747-400, and, in fact, only shorter than the 747-800. With a plane this long, the Lufthansa livery creates an incredible look of rear-heaviness. This plane looks like it should uncontrollably pitch up until it’s perpendicular to the ground every time it takes off. Of course this effect is less pronounced on shorter aircraft, but it’s still there, and I dislike it. 

You can barely even tell there’s paint at all on a much smaller plane! And the white bit on the front of the rudder which looks okay on a conventional empennage looks downright horrible when it’s only on the very tip of the t-tail’s forward point. 

Oh, and when you take the windows out for a freighter conversion it gets even worse. 

This is a generic-brand airplane. It genuinely reminds me of generic branding. There is a specific brand that has this exact appearance and I can’t remember what it is but it’s right there and I’m fairly sure I’ve seen it at CVS. I don’t think that’s what you want to go for when designing an airline livery, especially for an airline representing a country, but if Lufthansa wasn’t going for that they’ve failed. 

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Overall, Lufthansa’s livery is superbly boring and not terribly well thought out. It’s not worth this absolute dissertation on its own, but I’ve singled it out to complain about general trends, and for that I probably owe it an apology. Said apology is predicated on the fact that it is still a very underwhelming and bad design which could have used a lot more thought. There are a million ways this could have been made decent, and none of them were implemented because that would have taken effort and time and creative vision. I think this post actually required more time and effort than Lufthansa put into designing their planes. 

That said, Lufthansa gets a final grade of D. It’s...bad, it definitely is. There’s the vague flavour of the start of something, like the very distant smell from a barbecue happening three blocks away, but is that really even a redeeming factor? 

I mean, just look at these planes. There is something so absurdly captivating about the blue they've chosen for their livery's primary shade, and I just can't wrap my head around it fully. Even more than other planes, it looks entirely different in different lightings, going from a sort of metallic teal to a sharp cerulean.

Of course, blue alone couldn't accomplish that. The choice to pair it with gold was really what made this livery coalesce, but once they have this gorgeous color combination, this vast untouched blue bordered by gold, the colors speak for themselves.

The emblem on the tail is very simple in terms of its shape, easy to recognize from a distance, It requires no detail save what can be expressed with negative space and thus doesn't need much to tie it into the rest of the fuselage - the gold stripe more than succeeds in making the integration smooth. It provides a large image that can be seen from far away, and I think it's both distinctive and elegant. I would say it could be improved by replacing the white with a lighter gold, but I actually did think that it was a lighter gold until I looked closer because of the crazy things this livery does with color.

Allowing the blue to take up most of the fuselage was absolutely the right move. It looks like a completely different color in every picture of it I've shown so far but it's always absolutely gorgeous. The interplay of blue, gold, and light hitting it is just spectacular to the point I've gotten this far in without even mentioning, say, the wordmark, which is fine but absolutely doesn't matter. Because this plane is a sea of whichever blue is your favorite, if you catch it at the right angle.

Nothing on this plane is detailed. Everything is large-scale, big sweeping lines and massive blocks of color, like it's all painted on with a massive brush. The logo isn't limited to the tail but it also isn't integrated into most of the fuselage. It just takes up the amount of space it takes up, not recognizing any sort of arbitrary boundary between tailfin and fuselage. There is a near absence of straight lines. Everything is curved and flowing and perfectly placed.

I hadn't been able to tell for sure if the underside of the plane was cream or white, but I have been informed that it is, in fact, a light cream. It's perfectly chosen. It lets the gold seem like the trim it is instead of a discrete block of color. It accentuates, similar to KAL's grey dividing line, but instead of facilitating a transition from blue to white it facilitates the blue's constant metamorphosis into something that's so much more than an essentially monocolor plane has any right to be.

Also, it makes the plane look a lot more fishlike, which is always good.

I think too much more detail would overwhelm this color combination, just because of how much of a statement it is upfront. It is an incredibly confident move to release a plane that clearly is trying to get away from the pack but has barely any features, and have those features it does have collide so elegantly into something so much larger than the sum of its parts.

There is a part of me that keeps fighting my conclusion, insisting to myself that it's mostly blue space, and ultimately it's inevitable. The fact that I'm having so much trouble limiting my selection of pictures because each one feels like it's a discrete different shade of blue kind of proves that to me. It's so simple, yet every single angle shows it off in a new way. If I ever saw one of these planes in person I wouldn't be able to look at anything else while it was within eyesight, and that just ultimately has to speak for itself, doesn't it?

And of course they had to put this livery on Dreamliners, too.

It's not an exaggeration to say that KLM Royal Dutch Airlines (Koninklijke Luchtvaart Maatschappij) is one of the most noteworthy airlines in existence. At 103 years old, it is the oldest continuously operating airline in the world. Its first flight was operated in 1920 by a four-seater Airco DH.16, like the one below.

Today it operates a fleet of over 100 jets to 145 destinations, and that isn't even counting its subsidiaries.

KLM is the flag carrier of the Netherlands, a country I sometimes forget is still technically a monarchy! In fact, King of the Netherlands Willem-Alexander sometimes flies for subsidiary KLM Cityhopper. (As a first officer, no less. Can you imagine being a regular Fokker 70 captain at a regional airline and suddenly the king of your country shows up and says tell me what to do, boss?)

I did, in my questionnaire, ask people their opinions of KLM. My reasons for doing this, as with the other airlines mentioned, are mainly to judge if I'm correct or not in various assumptions of mine, because you know what they say about assumptions...they make you look like a complete tool if you're wrong! I was right, though, most responses spoke fairly highly or at least better-than-averagely of KLM's service, which I've always found exceptionally good for a European carrier. Two people stopped to state their distaste for the monarchy; four people said that they like that the planes are blue; one person said the state shouldn't be spending so much on them (good news for you-they're a private company with the Dutch government holding less than a 10% stake); the lowest opinion I got was one person who said 'meh'; and an entire five people said one of their main associations was the Tenerife disaster, which I was surprised by. I think this is a function of me being fairly young; in my experience people in my age bracket tend to not know about it.

For those (potentially in my age bracket) unaware of the Tenerife disaster, just know it happened in 1977 and KLM has been fatality-free since. They've got it out of their system, if you will. Even if aviation weren't generally as safe as it is, KLM is a very safe airline.

So, yeah! This all chimes with the general perception of KLM and also my own, which is that they're a pretty darn good airline if you can afford them. I have a KLM trivia post coming up later, but they have quite the history and it's worth putting your feelers onto a few books or articles if you like civil aviation history, because unfortunately I don't have the space to go into a lot of their little Dutch activities in this post. This post is about one thing only.

I'm not going to give discrete ratings to historical KLM liveries, because none of them are super out there (we aren't looking at dramatic overhauls like SAS's), but I will spend the majority of the post on them. You'll see what I mean by this later, but KLM really only has something like two and a half liveries. They've been around 100 years, mind.

One thing does, first, bear interrogation. Why blue? After all, orange is sort of the de facto national color of the Netherlands despite not being in the flag, as it's associated with the royal family. That's why basically every Dutch sports team has orange kit. I cannot find an answer to this question. The best I can figure is they just liked it, because KLM has always been blue and never any other colour. Focus group testing (my survey with 50 respondents) suggests that this is a well-received choice.

Well, anyway!

Here is a chart showing the evolution of KLM's iconography over time. I have to say that I was fine with the KLM logo before but now I'm sort of miffed that they ever got rid of the 1930 one. It's by far the best-looking of the bunch and I don't even think it really looks dated. Minimalism is a curse upon the airline industry. I will admit the lighter blue is definitely more distinctive, but I just prefer the darker blue (and I think the 1930 logo would be fine in their new chosen shade).

image: RuthAS

Another thing I'm furious left their branding was their very early habit of writing 'THE FLYING DUTCHMAN' on their planes. I had wondered to myself why they don't do that before learning that they used to and later stopped. I am furious that they stopped. It is so obvious, so perfectly created for them, and they let it pass right by. Shame!!!

The stripes on the rudder, by the way, are the Dutch tricolor. I do say that I'm more okay with the overdone red-white-and-blue colourscheme when it's done by flag carriers of nations with flags coloured such, but that doesn't mean I'm not relieved that they didn't.

image: RuthAS.

The description of the above photograph on wikimedia mentions that her name was 'Pallas'. KLM names their planes to this day, though there is no one consistent scheme. Airplanes are generally named according to model, but each type gets a different inspiration - these range from birds and insects to city squares and rivers. Here's a list of the names of their planes as of 2015!

As you can see, these early KLM liveries featured cheatlines, one light and one dark blue, a white top half, a bare metal lower half, a painted black radome, and the 'KLM ROYAL DUTCH AIRLINES' name written in obnoxiously small text. This was all very standard for the time. The only really recognizable feature is the striped blue tail (see, condor? Horizontal stripes look so much better). This was their scheme for a very long time. The above image was taken in 1969, right at the end of its lifetime.

This is the same model of airplane wearing a new scheme, taken in 1972. The livery was introduced in 1971 when KLM received their first 747, which wore it.

This was the era before Eurowhite caught on, when liveries mostly made up of bare metal were only just beginning to fall out of ubiquity. I'm sure, given the context, and given the size of the 747, this was a startling vision of elegance towering over its surroundings. However, I was born closer to when KLM retired the 747 than when they introduced it, and the world is different now.

I can't deny that even now it looks impressive watching this giant roll on by. It's difficult to see from here, but one of the cheatlines still says 'The Flying Dutchman'. It's difficult to come up with better slogans than the one KLM was given literally for free and has let slip through their grasp for reasons beyond me.

I truly wish I hated this more than I do, but I think as a limited-edition or commemorative livery, or one reserved for the 747s, it would look fantastic. As a brand, I'm not thrilled, but as a variant of the brand, I like it. Keep in mind the 747 was the first wide-body airplane introduced to service and was an order of magnitude larger than anything which had existed previously. These planes are huge by modern standards, but at the time they would have been almost unbelievably gargantuan. I've always thought that while the 747 wears a lot of liveries very well the plane by itself is a bit distractingly goofy-looking, but in white and surrounded by buildings that are shorter than it they have an august grace, quietly elegant, easily charismatic, and never thinking twice about their glorious size.

(It looks pretty bad on the DC-9, though. That's not a plane which really commands awe.)

Even compared to this DC-10, the 747 is massive. But do take note of the DC-10! Around the same time as the white-top livery (I've seen both 1971 and 1972 given as dates of introduction) we saw the introduction of today's blue-top KLM livery! That's right - they did it first, as far as I can tell! Earlier than Korean Air's 1985, and definitely older than Vietnam Airlines' 2002.

For a few years they operated this fleet of half-white-top, half-blue-top. And then they made the right decision and realized this white livery would lose all its gravitas the moment it stopped being something new and special and clean and splendid that the world had never seen before.

By the close of 1977 this was the KLM livery-full stop.

I actually find this pretty incredible. KLM's livery has changed over the years, and that's what I'm about to talk about, but I wouldn't say it's ever become a different livery - just different takes on the same one. KLM is over 100 years old, and their livery is over 50. Most airlines aren't that old. KLM's livery is over twice as old as Kosovo. That is one hell of a way to stick to a consistent, recognizable brand. I admire that and I wish more airlines would commit instead of jumping between short-lived mediocre liveries.

The crown really does set the tone for KLM. It's an airline that carries itself with elegance and refuses to be stingy. These engines are clean, shiny, well-maintained, and wearing their logo. It's all executed so perfectly.

Unfortunately, I do not like their livery. It doesn't look fantastic. This is a rare situation where the 747 actually wears it worse than the more conventional tube-with-a-fin models, but that miniaturized logo replacing the wordmark just looks so tiny and weirdly placed. I hate when airlines just use the same logo twice instead of putting an image logo on the tail and a wordmark on the main body. It instantly lowers my opinion of any livery. Reoccurring elements and a consistent design are one thing and repetition is another; it's the reusing-the-same-shot-in-a-film of airplane livery design. The uninterrupted blue just makes me want to pick up a breeze-block and tear it in two with my hands. Something about the cheatline being placed so high makes me want to take a wooden dowel and beat the nearest wall with it until I have a gaping hole in the wall of my bedroom. Like, it's fine. It's not that bad. But I am going to go chew on a towel until I calm down.

Hey. Don't cry. Air Canada's first A320 delivered wearing scarf and ear warmers ok? I'm doing alright now. And while I was getting done crying KLM apparently came to my same conclusions. I'm not sure exactly when the change was made, but I imagine this livery was phased out sometime in the mid-late 80s or early 90s. It doesn't seem to be instantaneous - rather, the cheatlines have almost bled off over time, and you can find a handful of strange in-betweens.

image: Ron Monroe

It wasn't all that bad before. I was being dramatic for a bit. I mean, it looked a lot better on the DC-10, even though it still wasn't exactly fantastic. But it was never, you know, hideous.

While this gay plane may be mistaken for having landed, she is actually in the process of beginning to rotate for take-off.

I like the modernized version a lot more. I love cheatlines, this is widely apparent, but sometimes liveries just look better without them. Cheatline liveries can't really afford to be minimalist - having a big detail like a cheatline makes any attempt at this sort of cleanliness seem quite cluttered and cramped. When the blue is allowed to expand to a proper half of the fuselage it really makes the whole thing feel a lot better proportioned, and I like that they still kept a thin dividing line (though I think it would have been fine if they hadn't, too). All of a sudden this is far from glorious but it at least looks clean. I can say, with confidence, that I think this is acceptable. Not...pretty, maybe. Doesn't fill me with awe. But nothing about it bothers me except the lack of wordmark. I can live with it.

The one thing I feel obliged to point out - and I am far from the first person to say this; it even feels cheap - is that this livery looks like an amount of toothpaste. I am not bothered by this. I am a big fan of oral hygiene. Taking care of your teeth is important! And I do think it's a very nice shade of blue.

Sure, it may not be the most elegant livery in the world. It's certainly not the most detailed, but it maintains all the iconography necessary at bare minimum. It feels like a revision or evolution of the 1971 livery rather than a new one altogether, and it is impossible to mistake for another airline, and that's my minimum, really - be iconic (in the literal sense), don't be repulsive to look at. Goals met. And the white belly really adds to the whale-like appearance large planes already have, which is always a plus. Maybe it's a form of countershading?

And this would be where the story ends, but in 2014 KLM did a classic airline thing. A bunch of absurdly wealthy individuals sat down in a conference room and decided they were going to make things worse.

Now, 'ruined' is a strong word, and in this case it doesn't apply. The original livery wasn't really good enough to ruin, and the change is very very minor. But I am simply not a fan of this new iteration of the livery.

It just looks sloppy. It doesn't look intentional. It looks like a mistake.

Compare it to Vietnam Airlines, which is in the same blue-and-white-halves category and also features a curved line. I gave this livery an A and one of the reasons for that is that its minimalism is deceptive. Each detail of this livery is very deliberate, and the consistent, smooth angle of the curve, the thickness of the separating line tapering with it - these all work together to create something extremely elegant, despite the fact that if you described these liveries with words alone they might sound quite alike.

There is something so fundamentally sloppy about this localised droop. And it doesn't help that this is KLM, the same airline with those crisp white titans. I don't see what it adds, to create the appearance that your airplane's coat has stretched like an old sock until it doesn't quite fit properly. How far we've come, and how little has changed. But those changes can sometimes be tragic in their simplicity. This small adjustment has disrupted the equilibrium that had me feeling fairly neutral about KLM's livery for so long.

I have to leave it with a D+.

I fought myself for quite some time about this. There's nothing truly offensive about this livery despite the things that make me dislike it, but I just couldn't bump myself up to a C- because, above all else, I'm let down. KLM has the budget, the brand, the acumen - and they had a decent livery, too! One of the most recognizable in the world! It didn't need this change!

A lot of airlines update their livery every decade or two. I wonder if KLM felt pressured not to stagnate, if they were ashamed of keeping their livery the same year after year. But, look...if you're going to be parading the fact that you're sanctioned by the royal family of the Netherlands around you shouldn't be afraid of not looking modern.

And I'm not a fan of monarchies, but not all old things are bad. You don't need to feel pressure to change just because other people are doing it. One of the industry's biggest names shouldn't feel pressured by the trend cycle. You've taken a jacket from a thrift store and cropped it, and it looks worse now. It was fine the way it was. You don't need to touch a classic. It's a bit oversaid, maybe, but...if it's not broken, there's no reason to try and fix it.

Unlike many - nay, most - of the subjects I cover, Riyadh Air has made me do absolutely zero research. You do get modern liveries like jetBlue and Lufthansa with little style guides to weakly attempt to back up their relatively mundane graphic design choices and things like condor and Icelandair's lovely little webpages, but Riyadh Air has done them all at least one if not several better by not only explaining in detail where they got their inspiration but also giving me a high-res 3D model of their airplane that I can rotate and zoom in and out on.

Take care; my computer is fairly underpowered and I do have an absurd number of tabs open most of the time, but this did crash my browser multiple times. Even just opening the main page of their website makes my CPU sound like it's spooling up for takeoff.

Okay. First I want to discuss the logo. They've got a video up on their thought process. I had transcribed it, but it looks better in motion, and thankfully they've stopped making it autoplay (presumably because, as I mentioned, this website absolutely guzzles processor as is) and in the process made it possible for me to simply left-click it off their website and into this post. Don't worry about it killing your browser. It's a normal video in a normal tumblr post without a 100 million dollar website chugging along in the background.

(I've taken some screenshots in case anyone does have trouble with the video.)

Now this is how you design a logo. The airplane window thing feels, in retrospect, so obvious I can't believe nobody had done it yet. I think it pairs gorgeously with the R, and I love that they chose to take inspiration from Arabic calligraphy, which is not only a massive point of pride for cultures which utilize the script but also just generally gorgeous. (It looks a bit like a stretched backwards hamza to me.) The shape of the bird's wing is the part I have the most trouble actually connecting to what I'm seeing, but sure, I'll give it to them. What the heck. This logo is nice.

I mentioned when discussing China Airlines that very few airlines use lavender as a primary color. Well, here's one that does! They actually discuss this on their website as well:

Inspired by the lavender blossoms that carpet Saudi Arabia, we've chosen this color because it symbolizes Saudi generosity and its authentic hospitality.

And this is, again, pretty fantastic. This is a thoughtful choice which isn't lazy or arbitrary. It has the potential to really pack a visual punch, and it does the thing I love when flag carriers do - references a feature of its home nation.

An upside to the fact that the livery page takes eons for my computer to chew on is that I get shown this lovely loading screen, which demonstrates the fantastic combination of blues and purples which make up the full scheme of this airline's colors. I love the combination of these colors. Light saturated colors are rare enough, but to see extremely dark blues and purples together like this is a rare delight. It definitely has the potential to get eyestrainy, but if done well it could look absolutely breathtaking.

But will it be done well? After all, a good idea isn't always well-implemented - see condor - and China Airlines's livery fails for me because it's barely got any lavender! So does Riyadh Air fall into the same pit? Let's check the browser-destroying 3D model they've lovingly provided us.

I love that 3D model, by the way. Instead of looking for a bunch of pictures of airplanes that happen to be in the correct lighting and at the right angle to demonstrate the exact thing I'm attempting to discuss I can just...zoom in while putting the plane at the specific angle I want. Normally I actually try not to rely too heavily on things like style guides because a piece of flat-colored concept art isn't actually going to communicate how a plane looks in motion and with light on it, but this is a really really robust model. Sure, it's not quite as maneuverable as I'd like it to be, it's still not a perfect representation of real life, but it's really well made. It even sways side to side a bit and if you zoom in close enough you can see they bothered to model the external sensors and the engines are even turning! Don't worry about the fact that if you zoom in even further you can tell the engines are just a fan suspended floating in a cowling. They even added ambient engine sounds. This model is so cool it legitimately took me several minutes of turning it around and muttering "wow..." under my breath before I realized the environment it was sitting in was just some very stretched and crunchy jpgs.

Mmm, those reflections.

To be honest, I also just enjoyed playing with this thing. It's almost like having a real model plane, but doesn't cost more money than I have! But enough of that.

So they definitely didn't chicken out when it came to the lavender. This plane is as purple as a Breeze Airways plane is blue (it is very purple). It's not just a purple tube, though. Even from a distance you can see that there's added detail here.

I love the wordmark, first off. They've really committed to the billboard look with this gigantic text in both English and Arabic. I love it. With such an overwhelming main body color it feels prudent to make sure the name is as visible as possible so it doesn't get lost in the shuffle.

And with this gigantic, recognizable logo plastered on the bottom you'd be able to identify it just as well from below (and this is zoomed out as far as the website let me!). In fact, the depth of the design really shines best from below. That's not necessarily a good thing, because your plane does have to be parked sometimes, but it's not a dealbreaker either. I just need to say that this is probably my favorite design for an engine nacelle, ever. It's gorgeous, and you can see in the first picture how well it flows into the main design. They don't go together quite as well from the bottom, and from below the plane does look a bit rear-heavy and the wordmark peering in is a bit awkward, but none of those ruin it. I would be stunned if I saw this fly overhead.

The website provides a few details about the design if you zoom in and click little black dots. It took me ages to realize this. It's neither intuitive nor accessible and I truly despise it, so I've taken the liberty of transcribing the bits that matter.

You can turn this plane in any which way you'd like, zoom in and out, and the details on the bottom never stop being beautiful and coherent. It truly does remind me of calligraphy. As they describe it:

Rooted in our Heritage The controlled, smooth linear profiles make up our signature "Canopy Twist". A perfect balance of our rich local culture and our modern global outlook, connecting the city of Riyadh to the world.

I love the name 'Canopy Twist', to be honest. And I love the design, too. My one criticism of it is the colors. They already have an established secondary shade of purple. That they used the text color for the highlights makes sense, but why couldn't they have used their lavender instead of a third shade of purple? In the quantity used for the underside it feels disconnected from the rest of the livery and they could have fixed that very easily by just...using their already existing secondary shade of purple? I think it would make for a very nice bridge to the tail as well, and it just feels like a colossal missed opportunity.

You may have noticed that the bulk of the fuselage body is a color a bit darker than what might conventionally be considered 'lavender'. This, too, is noted.

Indigo Livery Inspired by the ever-changing colors that paint the sky from dusk till dawn. A symbol of tranquility, harmony and integrity.

(This color is obviously purple, not indigo, but I will not belabor that point.)

I love the description, the idea of the transition between dusk and dawn. Much like the window as a basis for a logo, this makes me go "why in the world has nobody thought of that before? That's brilliant!"

It makes me think a bit more could have been done in the details. Maybe the canopy twist could be a gradient, like the gradient of the sky while the sun is rising? Just a thought.

And ultimately it's the canopy twist that is my only real sticking point with this livery. It is beautiful and unique and well-designed and it is simply a color that sticks out like a sore thumb. It's the only warm thing creeping into a design otherwise full of beautiful cool tones, it has gorgeous flow within itself but breaks up the feeling of consistency through the airframe as a whole, and I just...I really wish it were lavender.

If that's my main issue you can do a lot worse. And overall I do like the Riyadh Air livery. If that one detail was changed, this would easily be an A. This review would be all but uncritical. Except for the fact that it could use a bit of canopy twist up top, too (maybe just a tiny bit on the top of the nose, flowing in the same direction) in order to make the plane feel less rear-heavy (though it already beats out the vast majority of liveries in that sense), the issue with the color is my only big criticism. But it's the main detail of the design, isn't it?

It's wild. So much of the time my reviews are "good details, bad when you step back". But this is the opposite. Fantastic, but there's that one detail that sticks with you. And the details by and large are far from bad too. I mentioned the nacelles, and I think it very elegantly transitions the tail into the body. It would be more elegant if the design on the body was the same lavender, though!

A few more nitpicks: the centering of the logo on the tailfin is a little strange, the tail would look better if it had a bit of a gradient to make it less matte-seeming, and the combined effect of those is very luxury-hotel-towel-monogram. Okay. I'm done complaining.

So it falls short of being one of the best I've ever reviewed, but I still really, really like it. The calligraphy inspiration creates these elegant sweeping lines that are perfectly at home on the 787. The deep purple looks luxurious despite the fact that Riyadh Air doesn't plan to offer first class. It's eyecatching. It's stylish.

And, now that I've covered all this, let's look at the colors in person! That's right, they've already had a plane delivered in full Riyadh Air colors.

The deep purple with the lighter canopy twist, combined with the tiny white dots of the various probes and such, make this plane look like an animal camouflaging itself against the night sky in a place untouched by light pollution. The light lavender contrasts sharply in this particular image, sharply enough that it feels like a slice cut out of the plane.

This continues to be an issue from other angles and in other lightings, but the cool-toned light makes this purple look like true indigo and the blueish cast improves the look, giving an almost fluorescent appearance to the transition between the twist and the tail. The way the light reflects off the dark paint makes it look rippling and shifting and alive in a way it never could off white.

In shadow, the plane looks as dark as a city sky. In light, the vibrant purple of a fresh eggplant. This paint job adapts wonderfully to its environment. Much like Vietnam Airlines's, each light brings out a unique beauty.

And sometimes, the tail, detached though it may look, does so in the way a shining arm of a spiral galaxy neatly transitions into the black expanse around it.

Riyadh Air's planes range from ultraviolet to supervoid, but they are never lost in their environment. The principles behind the design remain consistent, and beautiful, and alone in a sky full of planes which refuse to embrace the dark skies they fly in on red-eye journeys.

Ultimately, I think Riyadh Air's livery feels a bit overdesigned. They added one color too many, and a few decisions feel like they don't belong together in the same picture. Just think about the amount of colors here, the balance of major features, and think about Vietnam Airlines, and you'll see what I mean. I'm not a fan of minimalism, but sometimes the only way to keep a story straight is to minimize loose ends. A secret becomes exponentially more likely to be exposed with each new person who learns it.

But before I looked closer, before I zoomed in and out on a little 3D model while my computer screamed, I saw this livery for the first time and my jaw hit the floor. And the average person isn't going to think about this the way I do. Ultimately, my critical eye is usually something I defer to, but I can't argue with the fact that this livery is going to be to someone else what China Airlines is to me. And, like China Airlines, when they come back and look closer at it they'll notice it wasn't as perfect as they thought, but...we've come so far, if this is someone's China Airlines. And as much as I nitpick at details the package counts, too. If you asked me why China Airlines got a C- instead of a D+, my honest reason would be...it struck me enough that I singled it out to begin with, even though that started to fall apart when I looked closer.

Saudia is obviously the flag carrier of Saudi Arabia. I think the government tried to privatise it at some point but I don't think they've actually finished that process. It was founded in 1945 as Saudi Arabian Airlines, and was run by TWA despite being wholly government-owned.

Saudia is really weird.

It was named Saudi Arabian Airlines until 1972, when it became Saudia. In 1996 it was renamed back to Saudia Arabian Airlines, and it was then renamed back again to Saudia in 2012. This is definitely confusing and/or silly. It also makes it comparably harder to date historical mentions of it just by name the way it does hearing USAir vs US Airways. I even see sources, including relatively journalistic ones, incorrectly use the anachronistic name anyway. Saudia is the better name, in my opinion. If you think 'Saudia' is shorter than 'Saudi Arabian Airlines', compare 'السعودية' to 'الخطوط الجوية العربية السعودية'.  'al-Ḫuṭūṭ al-Jawwiyyah al-ʿArabiyyah as-Suʿūdiyyah'. The way that proper nouns work in Arabic make an already long name completely unwieldy, while Saudia is completely regular and manageable. It's a bit pointless to discuss, though. The two have become interchangeable at this point. The switches have become more and more frequent over time, too. I'm taking bets for what happens in 2026 - are they going to become Saudi Arabian Airlines again, or will they daringly pick a third option and become Saudia Arabian Airlines? (They will not do this, and they're Saudia to me forever anyway.)

This is sort of a trend with Saudia. They have such a non-brand that they keep doing 'brand overhauls' which are negligibly different from each other. This applies to their liveries too. A new Saudia livery is the equivalent of a Fall/Winter collection from the Gap. It's...the Gap. New Saudia livery? Well...it's an airplane livery with Saudia branding. That's just not anything.

 image: ted quackenbush

image: ruthas

Hey, everyone! We added a livery revision! We had a cheatline and now it's a hockey stick!

We added more stripes! Aren't we innovative?

I actually do love the combination of these specific blues and greens, and would love to see it used on a competent livery, but attached to nothing it's just so sad. The same goes for the typeface used. Gorgeous, but meaningless. It was actually decent for the time, but...look, I'm not here to talk about it, and given what's coming it's hard to be too nice to it even though the colorscheme is genuinely gorgeous.

I also think this illustrates fantastically my point about Saudia vs Saudi Arabian Airlines. In the pictures above, each side has one of the names written in English and the other in Arabic, and...I think you can see for yourself.

This livery is so incredibly boring that it somehow looks worse on the TriStar than the 737, which is so unusual! The more interesting shape of the TriStar just lets on how painfully boring this is.

But that was then. Where are we now?

Ah...not much better. It's an upside-down United situation, half white and half off-white, which can look classy in some cases but in this example just looks dated. You have to do something to distinguish a livery like this. A nice color scheme (which this gold-and-dark-blue certainly is) and a gorgeous typeface can't save it.

This picture gives a fantastic view of how gorgeous the cream, gold, green, and dark blue used are. If only they were used in a way that accomplishes something! This is a travesty of great details which are just put down on a piece of paper and left to sit! Good details mean nothing if they're all you have. It just makes this livery all the more tragic.

('God Bless You' is not the name of the plane, just something written on all Saudia planes. Bless you too, HZ-HM1A.)

Why would you ever. Why would you ever color only the top of the fin on an MD-11, and then leave the engine flesh-color. Did not a single person realize that the ratio of blue to cream this creates looks terrible?

This is so frustrating. Every feature here is visually pleasing, and the plane itself sort of is unless you look close, but it's so nothing, so cowardly, that I become angry. This is bereft of design and creativity, despite having all the features it needs to succeed if they were applied decently. (Seriously, that typeface is beautiful.)

The Arab States of the Persian Gulf are some of the wealthiest countries in the world. Their airlines tend to be luxurious, with brand new fleets of well-equipped airliners replete with some of the world's best first-and-business-class cabins for the discerning travelling millionaire. I've never flown with one of them, because I am not a millionaire (or particularly discerning when it comes to cabin service, in all honesty), but it absolutely does show in their liveries. Each of them carries itself with a unique sort of careless gravitas, like a bed with a carved walnut headboard and brocade sheets, neatly made in the morning by an underpaid and mistreated migrant housekeeper.

Compare Saudia. The elegant frame of the Dreamliner given the livery of a mid-90s US carrier which would go out of business before the mid-aughts. This is non-design.

I mention, when I outline my grading system, that a D grade is not only for liveries which are ugly or badly designed. That's how I've ended up using it so far, most of the time. After all, I mostly discuss liveries that are interesting, since there's more to talk about and more to motivate me to write a post. And I do think Saudia is somewhat interesting case of a livery which is pretty, which has nice features, which is...inoffensive. Yet it is so cowardly that I truly do not believe it is satisfactory. It's almost a little unsettling, how there's nothing about this livery I specifically dislike yet the complete package is so reprehensible to me.

Final Grade: D+

Well, okay, I'm done with this livery. Tomorrow's bonus post will be about a much more interesting Saudi airline, and we'll have a post later today about a much more interesting aspect of Saudia's design, but for the moment thankfully we're done with this...

...this is a wet lease. They've been wet leasing planes to meet hajj demand, and those planes are primarily white. But for a moment I thought this was actually a new livery and almost began crying.

I like this picture a lot because it looks like she's saying hello to you. Like a cat approaching to sniff your hand.

First taking to the air in 1940 under the name British West Indian Airways, BWIA was also known at various points as BWIA West Indies Airways, BWIA International Airways, or 'Bee-Wee'. Its website was bwee.com. I have begun saying 'bweeeeee......' to myself under my breath now whenever I'm alone.

BWIA was founded as a private company, then became a BOAC subsidiary, and then was rapidly acquired by the government of Trinidad and Tobago. From 1961 until its ultimate demise in 2006, BWIA was the flag carrier of Trinidad and Tobago and became the largest carrier in the Caribbean, serving destinations in North America, South America, the Caribbean, and Europe.

Back in the day they had this...boring standard thing, but by the 80s they expanded their horizons to the other half of the color wheel, picking up a recognizable teal-and-bright-yellow color scheme. Its various jets continued to wear this livery until around 2000.

Sure, one image could have sufficed, but I'm far too weak to resist the allure of putting a really cobby-looking plane next to a comically long-looking plane.

The yellow and teal was a step in the right direction, but in 2000 BWIA decided it was time to unleash their true power on airports across the world. And the result is the subject of this post.

Now there's a livery worth talking about.

Seeing images of this livery makes me feel temporally strange. This is an airline which I technically overlapped with, in the sense that I was alive while BWIA existed, but I'm just inherently too young to remember that. There's definitely a chance I saw one of these striking planes in person and just don't remember it because I was five or so years old, and that's a very strange thought. I wish I had managed to see one, and had held onto the memory somehow, because I love these planes.

Do I miss the hot pink lettering from the previous livery? Yes, a little bit. I won't deny that. But if I hadn't known it was there I wouldn't have had that thought, so I don't think that's anything to hold against them.

I think BWIA is a really good place to pick up after this week's first post, Icelandair, where I discussed flag carriers' branding and the fact that it should reflect the country it represents. Trinidad and Tobago's contributions to music are gigantic. It's the birthplace of calypso, though calypso is far from the only genre and far from the only tradition which originated there.

BWIA's logo is a stylized steelpan, a musical instrument invented in Trinidad and Tobago which I could talk about on its own for quite some time if I weren't insisting to myself that this post has to be about airplanes and not music, but it's a choice of logo that makes it immediately clear that this is an airline which represents a group of people rather than just a flag. If the culmination of a flag carrier's mission is to make a case for why it's flying to a place you should visit, this is an incredibly effective way to do that. Trinidad and Tobago is a place where music is born. It's not just islands with beaches, it's islands with people and if you go there you will have experiences you could never have anywhere else.

In terms of flag carrier logos, it's up there among my favorites. The older 2D version is a little harder to immediately identify as a steelpan but the 2000-onward 3D version is very clean and very uniquely BWIA's. It adds more detail but it never becomes cluttered. The steelpan shape and the teal-and-yellow colors are both distinctive on their own, and combined they make planes that are impossible to mistake for any other airline.

The steelpan logo is prominent both on the tail and wrapped around the bottom of the fuselage, starting about midway down the ventral fairing and ending just below the nose. I really admire BWIA's choice to go with white-on-blue rather than the blue-on-white any other airline would have chosen. It instantly elevates the livery from doing something interesting with the placement of its shapes to doing that and also stubbornly refusing to even approach Eurowhite.

The use of white where it is used is very nicely executed, though. It allows the overall design to maintain a lightness by avoiding black outlines, while preventing the sort of overt eyestrain that comes from putting yellow directly on this sort of light teal. Instead, it elegantly uses the yellow as an accent on the back half of the fuselage. It's difficult for me to even articulate why this works so well, but it just does. The colors look harmonious together despite never mixing, and it's not the sort of place a secondary color would normally be isolated, which I think might be why it's so brilliant. It's a really nice accent to the rest of the plane, preventing the flatness which could result from a livery made entirely of a light color and plain white, while not impinging on the steelpan logo. It draws the eye and then takes a step back to let it experience the rest of the plane, and when you take a step back and appreciate the livery as a single unit it prevents any of that detail from being lost in a blue-and-white blur.

As with many liveries, I think BWIA's looks its best on a TriStar. That might be because the larger empennage lets you see more of the steelpan logo, but there's something so nice about the way the yellow peeks out from under the wing that reminds me of birds with bright yellow underbellies.

I think the main thing that sticks with me after looking at BWIA planes from every angle I can find images for is that this livery exemplifies a style of design that is the exact opposite of what makes most liveries so disappointing. This feels like a livery designed by someone who had never seen another airline livery before, who was sat down with some pencils, a color scheme, a logo, and an identity, and told to find a way to reflect it in the shape of the airplane. In so many of my other posts I compare liveries to each other, with the worst cases merging into uninspiring slop of aughts Delta clones and late 2010s Lufthansa clones and so forth. BWIA just didn't participate in any of that. This livery is hard to put words to because it's nearly impossible to compare to any other livery - in a good way. Most airlines' special occasion liveries don't have a fraction of this excitement.

This might sound a little lofty, and I don't mean to say that BWIA is what airlines should strive to directly emulate (in fact, by doing so they would sort of be doing the opposite of what BWIA did when they released this into a world full of Air France and United), but BWIA here has done what general relativity did to physics. Not so much a different equation, but a different state of mind. Taking what has always been treated as numbers and saying that it makes a lot more sense to think of it as fabric. And what I ultimately think is the most important outcome of these choices is that I can imagine any number of people watching other planes on the tarmac, bored out of their minds, snap out of their stupor to get a closer look when they see a BWIA plane roll by.

We unfortunately lost BWIA in 2006. It was for regular boring financial reasons, a similar situation to the more recent death of Alitalia where the government simply can't keep pumping money into something which has never turned a profit and has to start over with a new airline. I'm not going to talk about its successor, Caribbean Airlines, except to say that obviously I think it's a gigantic downgrade. Frankly, I could really like Caribbean Airlines and it wouldn't matter. If an impeccably designed livery is equivalent to someone who can answer any question you have about the body of physics scholarship, BWIA is equivalent to the sort of theorist who gets fundamental laws named for them.

Icelandair is not a concept that needs much explanation. It's right there in the title. It is an airline, and it is from Iceland. If you want a little more information, here's a summary written in 1997 by John K. Morton for his book "Jetliner Glory". (Scan mine)

As you can see, Icelandair was, at this point, rocking a supersized nothingburger of a livery. With just a cheatline and some paint on the bottom of the nacelles to accompany the logo and wordmark it feels less like SAS's belly stripes or Tibet Airlines, where it looks like a plane painted white, and feels more like they just forgot to add the rest of the livery.

While I do slightly prefer this older take with the more faded colours, the bare metal underside, and the contoured down-sloping cheatline, it's still pretty nothing.

Oh no. Oh nonononono don't do that please don't-

Thank you. That's much less worse.

The blue-and-yellow livery was adopted in 2006. I don't like this but this feels necessary. What stands out to me about Icelandair, above any individual feature of their fleet, is that they are fundamentally incapable of departing from whatever the most simplified and common design trend of the time is.

70s and early 80s. Single rule cheatline, large font wordmark, bare metal lower half.

80s and early 90s. All over paint, text moved forward to just behind the forwardmost door. Beginning of strict adherence to Eurowhite en masse.

Aughts to late 2010s. This is an era of somewhat refined Eurowhite. This allows very specific colored parts of the airframe: a block of color on the underside, a detached floating tail, colored winglets, and colored nacelles.

My opinion of this specific livery is that it is nearly identical to Delta's. Similar dark blue shade, exact same layout. The only difference is that Delta's blue engines make the livery look more coherent and Delta's logo is far more distinctive. I consider Delta to be the platonic ideal of this type of 2000s Eurowhite, and Icelandair uses the exact same layout.

I will say...it could be worse. Icelandair does not fail the Star Alliance test, so I cannot give it an F.

It's getting a D, for Delta.

But hey! Great news! They literally just unveiled a new one! And they've given me a nice webpage describing their thought process. I keep seeing more and more airlines do this with their 2020s livery releases and I think it's awesome.

image: icelandair

And they're jellybeans! I make no secret for my love of jellybeans. These come in five colours: boreal blue, magenta, sky blue, yellow, and green. Each of them is meant to represent a different aspect of Icelandic natural phenomenae, which I would expect at least partially stems from the response to their widely beloved Hekla Aurora and Vatnajökull liveries.

The two colours not pictured above: boreal blue (left) and green (right)

I really like these choices of colour. I think my favourite is ultimately magenta because of how striking its contrast is with the main blue, but none of these look even a little bad.

I do wish there was a little more integration of the jellybean colours into the rest of the livery (maybe the winglets or the engine nacelles, or as an outline on the wordmark, or extended to the underside of the plane), but the concept itself is solid and each colourway is pleasing. While I think this is a welcome change from the earlier yellow-and-blue scheme I am very happy that they kept a yellow variant.

Red engine SAS livery jumpscare in the background.

I would say the main thing I dislike about the new livery is the billboard wordmark. It's fine in theory but I utterly despise the typeface they've chosen and I find that sans-serif typefaces look fine when they're small but get uglier and uglier the larger you make them. It's a very boring downgrade, especially compared to the tasteful little serifs on the very tips of the old one. They were a minor aerodynamic touch but they were very nice compared to this, which is giving corporate brochure in a way I can't stand. At least it keeps the middle fuselage from being blank, I suppose.

I do like it a lot better on the Dash 8, though it's a little too low to the bottom for my taste. They could solve this by just making it slightly smaller, but they've apparently fully committed to a font that is, in my opinion, too large and widely spaced.

I feel like they also missed an opportunity with their logo. I've seen people say that it's a stylised 'F' to represent the company's first name, Flugfélag. I've heard someone else say that it reminds them of a stylised aurora, and I agree with them. I think there was a lot of room to play with both of these, and that it's a shape that's simple enough and dynamic enough to lend itself well to livery design, and that they could have created something so much better had they made more use of it - especially with the jellybean colours.

The final thing I want to point out is the tail. It's very blatant that the 2020s equivalent of the detached tail is the slightly-integrated tail, which loops down and just prevents the tail from being detached while still leaving the majority of the fuselage blank white without really adding much visual interest or presenting much in the way of creativity.

SAS and WestJet are two other airlines from those I've covered which do this. Now, they could both be a lot worse - WestJet has a nice wordmark and I've already talked about why SAS does a lot that's more interesting than the tail - but I can't deny that I dislike this trend. It fixes the ugliness of Detached Tail Syndrome but without adding much. It is the bare minimum. It is an upgrade from bad to nothing. And I think it's worth noting that both of these airlines, and indeed the majority of airlines with slightly-integrated tails, used to have detached tails. The Lufthansa clone of the 2020s is the Delta clone of the 2010s.

But I think Icelandair's new livery requires comparison to one 2020s livery more than any other - our old 'friend', Lufthansa.

The reason I point out Lufthansa is that unlike SAS and WestJet it does not feature a curve, but a straight line downwards. It also features more than one colour on the tail itself, sort of - I mean, it has the contrasting white stripe.

I don't think I particularly need to linger on why I like Icelandair's livery so much better than I like Lufthansa's. But I will point out one aspect in particular. The descriptions of the inspiration behind Lufthansa's livery focus on how sleek and modern it is. It occasionally mentions nebulous 'German values' (a phrase which in context refers to Europe's obsession with the most hideous sans-serif fonts on the face of the planet and soul-sucking minimalist white design but which sort of makes me shudder as a disabled bisexual Jew, a set of traits seemingly min-maxxed for being a target of...well, you know) but beyond that is wholly and almost gleefully corporate, scoffing in the face of the fact that flag carriers are almost by design intended to be unprofitable, to provide air transport to residents of their country and to serve as propaganda.

Air France lost heaps of money on Concorde, Alitalia went fourteen years without turning a profit, and do you think carriers like Rwandair or Air Niugini, which just don't have the demand to operate planes filled to capacity, are able to make money? Of course not, but they operate anyway because people need to get places and it's a statement for a government, especially one without the means of a massive European power with centuries of stolen resources at its disposal or an ultrawealthy Gulf state, to put their names on a plane and say that this is a service they are providing to the people they are, on paper, meant to provide for.

This is not a feature unique to airlines - just think about the way high-speed rail in China and Japan are inherently tied to their national identities, as something these countries have built as a service to their people and as something which makes them better places to live. Think about the Space Race, which was a dick-measuring contest more than it was for science. The US government is notorious for its unwillingness to fund science projects but if it means sticking it to the reds it's worth a couple billion to put a man on the moon.

Any sort of project which invents or builds by necessity becomes a symbol of national power. Sometimes these things are useful, like high-speed rail, and sometimes they advance science, like reaching the moon, but, like...did Ferrari World need to exist, or is the UAE willing to spend a bunch of money to say "look how awesome we are, we have the fastest roller-coaster in the world"? Did the USSR need the Tu-144? Of course not - luxury air transport wasn't a thing, they couldn't charge a premium, and there wasn't anywhere safe to release a sonic boom over, and it was rushed out in a state that couldn't really be considered airworthy just to serve for less than a year while diverting resources from actually useful aerospace projects. The Tu-144 set back Soviet aerospace engineering by decades but it was worth it for the chance to say they built the first supersonic airliner, which will remain technically true forever. Countries are chomping at the bit to displace people and abuse labourers and waste money and resources to build stadiums that will lie derelict for the rest of time just to get to say they hosted the Olympics.

These things are worth losing money for. To say 'we are willing to lose money to give our people transport and to have our own airline with our own flag on it'. Flag carriers do not need to be profitable. If they happen to turn a profit that's a good thing for the country but it's not meant to be the point. That the US has never had a flag carrier feels like a very pointed statement to me - no handouts, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and build your own damn airline. While many large airlines elsewhere have their own founders with their own marks on history and large personalities, none of them have the cultural capital that Juan Trippe or Howard Hughes do. Icelandair's equivalent of Juan Trippe is the aurora.

I cannot imagine a carrier which reflects its national identity less than Lufthansa does. Perhaps they want to forget that they are a flag carrier and by this nature propaganda. After all, despite being largely a different entity, they bear the name of a flag carrier founded by the Third Reich. They had an easy out of this. They could have stuck with their initial name, Luftag. They could even have taken the name and branding of Interflug, the East German flag carrier, but better to be founded by the actual Third Reich than by the Communists, from their perspective. It's probably better to lean as far away from what they were made to be as possible. And from their point of view to be as corporate as possible is actually probably a reflection of what there is to love about Germany, given that this is their background. I find that incredibly sad. If I were German, this would make me furious. There is so much more to Germany than anything Lufthansa has ever been. It is insulting not just to my eyes but to the idea that it is meant to be part of German identity.

Meanwhile, Icelandair's inspiration is Iceland: the natural features which make their country worth visiting. They are aware of this - they actually used the Hekla Aurora livery to promote the fact that they offered free week-long stopovers in Iceland. Their website explicitly lays, interspersed with images of aurora over snowy mountainous landscapes which seem to stretch on forever, that this is what Iceland has to offer.

And since we spend so much time in the sky, we drew inspiration from what we see in front of us, and what we see in our country from above. [...] By extending our color palette, we have a chance to bring the vibrant Icelandic spirit to the world, and to show the world the diversity of our people: The Icelandic spirit is available to anyone and everyone who wants to share in it.

At the end of the day, flag carriers are a form of propaganda. That word normally has a very nasty connotation, but it doesn't have to be things like war crime coverups and attempts to quell rebellion. In this case, it can be an encouragement for Icelandic people to be proud of something about their country as well as an attempt to drum up tourism. Is it still a calculated attempt to sell you something? Sure. But it's an attempt to sell something Icelandic people are proud of, because they live somewhere with beautiful features that don't exist anywhere else. I really want to visit Iceland, and have for years, for the exact reasons outlined in Icelandair's material about their new livery.

And does this livery actually overtly communicate these things? No, not really. I think it's something you can see when you have it explained to you but wouldn't notice at a glance. But the fact that this was considered at all, much like condor's justification for their flying striped nightmares, keeps me from feeling the same sort of disgust I do for liveries like Lufthansa's.

So, Icelandair could do a lot better. But they're doing a lot better than they ever have before. And they have succeeded, fundamentally, at being Icelandair.

I leave them with a final grade of C.

It could be better. Far better. But they're at least using the right equation to get the wrong answer. If they ever get the courage to design something which doesn't follow the dominant trends in whatever the decade's particular flavour of Eurowhite is as if it's copied from a template, I think Icelandair could come up with something really great, and I hope I live long enough to see it.

And, as a final note on their commitment to their national identity, I will be discussing their three non-crossover special liveries: Þingvellir, Vatnajökull, and this blog's first twice-requested livery, Hekla Aurora. But they will get their own post, because this one is already preposterously long, so get ready to see a lot more Iceland very very soon.

Founded just a month after Pan Am and slightly before Iberia, VARIG (Viação Aérea Rio-Grandense, Rio Grande Airlines) was Brazil's first airline, its largest, and its main bridge to the rest of the world. In short, its flag carrier.

Well, technically, VASP existed too. I feel like people forget about VASP. Viação Aérea São Paulo (São Paulo Airlines), known better as VASP, was founded in 1933 by the state of São Paulo.

They flew this awesome-looking plane, the General Aircraft Monospar.

Since São Paulo is nowhere near the ocean, they used only landplanes, which was pretty unusual for the time. Early on this meant they were using dirt airstrips and 'airstrips', presumably just some grass that had airplanes landed on it until it got all smushed down. Eventually an airport was built to accommodate them, though.

São Paulo–Congonhas Airport (CGH/SBSP) is Brazil's second-busiest airport. It is known for its gorgeous terminal building and being one of the most dangerous airports in the world due to crowding and runways which become unnervingly slippery with even the slightest rain, which contributed directly to it being the site of Brazil's deadliest air disaster. It now has a very low cap on operations and no longer serves international destinations, but that might be VASP's single biggest contribution to history - an airport that caused a mass casualty event after VASP had already stopped flying. In its defense, landing at Congonhas was still probably nominally safer than putting a 737 down in an empty field, and tore up the landing gear less.

VASP was pretty dominant domestically for most of its history (while VARIG was essentially the only international airline), until it entered an incredible death spiral. The decline began in the 80s, in a way I would not describe as an incredible death spiral. That portion was initiated when VASP was privatized, attempted to expand into international destinations, gave up on that within a decade, stopped flying altogether and existed only to provide maintenance for other airlines, and then went bankrupt in 2008.

I prefer its livery to VARIG's, I think. I like that they didn't promptly shift the wordmark all the way forward like a lot of airlines did, and I like their shade of blue, but I sort of miss the old blue stripes. I mean, jetBlue could try that on for a tail? Still, always quite simple. It has one or two things I'd call 'features' in every iteration, but it never goes above a C- for me.

So, yeah. I would feel like I was omitting something if I didn't at least mention it, given it was a nationalized carrier and a huge chunk of Brazilian aviation history. I just feel like everyone forgot VASP the moment they went out of business, and that almost makes me sad.

Oh, well! There's other airlines.

Like VARIG! I feel like VARIG's older tramline blue livery was somehow pretty iconic despite being deeply, deeply generic. It does the layered, multicolor cheatline thing Lufthansa did but with blue-on-blue, which I actually quite like, and indeed this does feel a bit like a monocolor Lufthansa of the time period. I'm unsure if I actually think it's iconic because I'd be able to pick its old livery out of an identity parade or just because it was massive, but I'm going to just give it a C, I think, which would probably be higher if I were alive in the time period, but I don't believe I was. Let me know if you know anything I don't on the subject.

Their modern livery (designed in 1996 by the prolific Landor Associates) was also pretty alright. I like that weird little inexplicable divot, feels like it keeps me on my toes - not an airline I can rely on straight lines with! Nice legible wordmark, gold contrasting symbol (though I think they could have done something on the main body with it), it's all nice, it's all cromulent, C airline. This was designed at a point where full white fuselage wasn't done to death the way it is now, or I'd be harsher, but it feels a bit like beating up a corpse, given the rest of this post.

VARIG was Brazil's only real international airline for literal decades. It existed until 2005, other airlines gradually cropping up to chip away at its monopoly, until it finally went under and was restructured into two companies. One, the judicial successor known colloquially as "old VARIG", became the quickly-defunct FLEX Linhas Aéreas, which lasted all of another five years; the brand, meanwhile, was given to "new VARIG", which was purchased by GOL Linhas Aéreas Inteligentes.

GOL haven't been using the VARIG brand, which I generally think is the better move when it comes to acquiring old trademarks; better to build something new than attempt to resurrect something dead. Besides, they have their own brand, using the unusual color scheme of grey and orange and with a very memorable and simple logo (though it does look a bit like it says GOOL).

Judging by the reactions of a couple Brazilians I know in person who I told about this airline, the name is a love letter to Brazilian culture. Flag carrier material? Well, let's pause. How do they look? Are these planes a country can be proud of?

I like the loops a lot. While I prefer the scribbly feeling of the old GOL wordmark (the first two planes pictured) I think the new livery (immediately above) is an improvement in every other way, namely a somewhat clever solution to the Detached Tail Syndrome problem. I like how the wordmark is centered on the fuselage, and the fact that there are loop details on the winglets as well.

And, honestly, people underrate how hard it is to make a design like this look good consistently from different angles, but I think this does. I like it.

Do I wish there was more orange and grey and less white? Yes, but do I think it uses what little color it is very well and is more than the sum of its parts? Also yes. This could definitely improve a lot but it's very well thought out - just think even more outside the box and you'll get there.

B-. I like this, even though orange is my least favorite color and doesn't feel like it should go with grey at all. Good job, GOL.

Even though new VARIG wasn't the same company, surely it was part of VARIG, so this would make GOL its successor? That does make sense, hypothetically, but isn't how it shook out. For one, GOL is a low-cost carrier, which flag carriers usually aren't, particularly because LCCs tend to fly shorter point-to-point routes. (In 2019 GOL was Brazil's largest domestic airline with nearly 40% of the market share, and its third largest international airline, with nearly...four percent.)

The second, and I think potentially more damaging event, one which kept it in this mostly-domestic state, was a codeshare agreement with Portuguese flag carrier TAP Air Portugal falling through. TAP is a major international airline which flies basically everywhere within A330 range of Lisbon and which I constantly see as a codeshare option on flights to places that are definitely not actually in Portugal. GOL is the sort of airline I'd call...nominally international, in that it does fly to other countries, but those countries aren't particularly distant. They fly to other destinations in South America, a few in the Caribbean, and also Florida. It would be tricky to manage anything else given their all-737 fleet; they seem to have owned and operated 767s for just long enough to realize that this 'being a flag carrier' thing wasn't going to work out for them. TAP? They fly to South Africa, Venezuela, Norway, Guinea, Macau, Montreal - basically everywhere, including eleven destinations in Brazil. GOL flies to 17 countries in total. This was followed up with a failed attempt to join oneworld which also fell through for some reason or another, after which GOL said 'well, that's fine, we didn't want to be part of an alliance anyway' and then just went back to minding their own business domestically and making heaps of money, while the last vestiges of even new VARIG became thoroughly extinct to the point that I didn't know GOL technically had the trademark until maybe a month ago.

TAP did codeshare with a Brazilian carrier, though, one of the other three largest in the country.

If you feel something ominous building up, sense a certain presence...

No. Stop smirking, David. You won't be involved in TAP until 2015. At this point in the David Neeleman timeline he was still at jetBlue. Wait, does this make TAP jetBlue's step-sister?

To be totally honest I think by force of branding alone Azul Linhas Aéreas Brasileiras should get to be the flag carrier because clearly they want it and nobody else does, but they have the same issues GOL does and given David seems to have moved on I can't imagine that changing anytime soon. B+ for the Brazilian flag livery, by the way, that looks awesome.

No, this post is not going to become about David Neeleman, it's going to become about TAM Linhas Aéreas.

TAM originally stood for Táxi Aéreo Marília. The airline was later named TAM – Transportes Aéreos Regionais, and operated a subsidiary called Brasil Central Airlines. When restrictions on destinations for domestic carriers were lifted in the 90s this subsidiary rebranded to Transportes Aéreos Meridionais. You may notice that this means there are two TAMs, owned by the same holding company (only distinguishable by their differing IATA codes, KK and JJ - they even had the same livery).

They solved this issue by just becoming one carrier, TAM Transportes Aéreos (with the code JJ). They tried to buy VASP, didn't manage to buy VASP, and then sort of became the flag carrier anyway.

I hate TAM's livery because I like it but also hate it. They did the Lufthansa straight-tail back when that was a major innovation over Detached Tail Syndrome, I like the way the trim on the tail goes all the way over the top of the rudder and widens as it slopes down, I like the little bird on their wordmark a lot, and I love the red and white with just a hint of blue. This color scheme is just fantastic. My only criticism is that they stopped and forgot to do anything with the rest of the plane.

I mean, like, it looks okay, right? This looks fine?

Hmm, okay, flattering angle, still looks decent-

NO NO NO PUT IT BACK WHITE TUBE WHITE TUBE WHITE TUBE-

This livery looks so phenomenally back-heavy despite the huge wordmark. This is an A321. This isn't even a long-looking plane by any stretch of the imagination. I'm going to say it outright: this is why you paint your engine cowlings.

C, but the concept is good!

There's a lot to work with if you just commit to the bit! Given the timeline we're working with, TAM would actually probably be overhauling their livery sometime around now...you know, if they still existed.

TAM got the codeshare deal with TAP. TAM joined Star Alliance. After VARIG went under and GOL dropped the bag TAM became Brazil's de facto flag carrier. They were full-service, flew to Europe and North America, and they had the Brazilian flag on their planes, which were registered in Brazil. They became the largest airline in Brazil. Then the largest in Latin America.

Average state of Congonhas pre-2015, assumedly back when it was still allowed to land international flights.

They were also rated runner-up for least safe airline in the world by the Jet Airliner Crash Data Evaluation Centre in 2013.

...what a note to go out on, huh?

For a few years now, something has been building, far from the prying eyes of those watching the liveries of the planes taxiing by them. Soon the parasite inside TAM will burst out, and the largest country in South America will no longer have an airline of its own.

Something very big is about to happen. Something which casts a shadow over all of Latin American civil aviation.