Is It a Rebrand or a Refresh?
- AmberLee Fuller - Live Out Loud Branding
- Aug 29
- 3 min read

Y’all keep using these words, but I don’t think you actually know what they mean.
The internet has been up in arms about Cracker Barrel’s logo update like it was a constitutional crisis. So let’s take a deep breath, put down the biscuits, and talk about what actually qualifies as a rebrand—and what’s just a glow-up.
Before we dive in, let’s get something straight: a brand is not a logo. It’s not your color palette, your font choices, or your tagline. Your brand is the heartbeat of your business. It’s your identity, your reputation, your message, your vibe. It’s the way people feel when they interact with you—on your website, at your storefront, in your DMs, and yes, even at your Instagrammable book launch brunch.
What is a Rebrand, Really? (Spoiler: It’s Not Just a New Logo)
A rebrand is a full-scale transformation. It’s a change in core identity—not just what you look like, but who you are. It often involves shifts in voice, mission, target audience, internal culture, product offerings, and yes, visuals—but the visuals are the result, not the catalyst.
From an archetype perspective (which, if you’ve been here for a minute, you know is my jam), a rebrand is like realizing you’re no longer The Innocent—you’ve evolved into The Creator or The Rebel or The Sage. Your values, your message, your purpose? They’ve changed. And now the way you communicate with the world has to evolve too.
Take Old Spice, for example. It went from "your grandpa’s aftershave" to “the hilarious, absurdist body wash for confident men.” That wasn’t a logo update. That was a radical shift in tone, archetype, audience, and cultural relevance. They didn’t just modernize the bottle—they reintroduced themselves entirely.
Or look at Burberry, which went from dusty British heritage brand to sleek, relevant, luxury fashion house. That wasn’t a refresh. That was a rebirth.
A rebrand is big. It’s risky. It’s deep work.
Refresh? Wait… What’s the Difference?
A refresh is just that—a fresh coat of paint. It’s an update. It’s trimming your bangs and throwing on a statement jacket. The bones stay the same. The core values, mission, and messaging? Still intact. But the look gets cleaned up to better reflect where the brand is right now.
Let’s use a pop culture example that even your cousin Karen on Facebook can understand: Taylor Swift.
Taylor has been the girl-next-door brand since day one. That’s her core archetype. But every album? It’s a refresh. A new aesthetic. Folklore gave us woods and cottagecore; Reputation was black lipstick and vengeance. Fonts changed. Color palettes shifted. Imagery evolved. But at the root, it was still Taylor. Still heartbreak, growth, and storytelling in sparkly boots.
That’s a refresh.
And that’s what Cracker Barrel did.
Cracker Barrel Isn’t Leading the Woke Parade—They’re Just Late to the Party
Let’s be clear: Cracker Barrel didn’t rebrand. They updated their logo. They swapped out an overly detailed, hard-to-scale visual for something cleaner, flatter, and more functional in a digital world.
They didn’t abandon their values. They didn’t change their voice. They didn’t shift who they serve.
And if you think this move is some radical leftist conspiracy, let me introduce you to a few other brands that have updated their logos in the past decade:
Hobby Lobby
Petco
Pringles
Burger King
Pepsi
Google
YSL (Saint Laurent)
Balenciaga
Warner Bros.
Discovery Channel
See? All across the spectrum. Some conservative-leaning, some neutral, some progressive. Hyper-minimalism isn’t political—it’s practical. It’s about screen-readability, responsive design, and modern aesthetic standards.
While yes, I believe everything is political—because identity, equity, and power are political—sometimes? A font is just a damn font.
Cracker Barrel hasn’t changed their core values. The menu is still a love letter to cholesterol. Their employees are still grossly underpaid. And the country store? It still looks like the community hall of an Appalachian evangelical church.
Live, Laugh, Love. White Jesus. Faux-vintage tin signs. All still intact.
And honestly, y’all—as someone who grew up in the Deep South, sweet tea and those front porch rocking chairs on Uncle Jack’s birthday or Granny and Pop’s anniversary? Those are core memories. They’re stitched into my DNA. That doesn’t change because the company modernized their logo to something that can actually be embroidered on a uniform without turning into a pixelated mess.
This wasn’t a personal attack on your childhood, your faith, or your political confusion.
It was just a refresh.
Next time someone screams “they’re abandoning tradition!” because a brand uses a sans serif font, maybe remind them that tradition isn’t in the typography. It’s in the experience.
And if you want help figuring out whether your brand needs a refresh or a rebrand? You know where to find me.
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