The Great Kiwi Pool Rebrand
Somewhere along the line, our public swimming pools got interesting. Not flash. Not luxury. Interesting. Over the past year, a quiet wave of rebrands has swept through community aquatic centres from Invercargill to Whangārei, and they have stopped apologising for being municipal. They are leaning in.
I fell down this rabbit hole after visiting the newly renamed Tidal Commons in a mid-sized North Island town. It used to be called something forgettable with the word "leisure" wedged in the middle. Now it has lane names instead of numbers. “Long Haul”. “Gentle Drift”. “Show Off”. The toddler pool is “The Puddle”. The dive well is “Commitment”. None of this is ironic. It is deeply considered. The wall copy talks about bravery, about Tuesday night regulars, about the particular pride of a 25 metre badge. You can feel the strategy. This is not a pool. It is a civic arena.
What’s clever is how design is being used to change behaviour. Bookings are up for the 6am slots because “First Light Club” sounds like something you join, not endure. Teen attendance has spiked since one centre reframed its strict no-bombing policy into a posted “Splash Charter”, written in plain, slightly cheeky language that treats young people like contributors, not problems. There are hand-painted record boards celebrating the slowest improver of the month alongside the fastest. It turns out that when you market participation instead of performance, people show up.
We talk a lot in this industry about purpose. Meanwhile, our local pools are out there practising it in togs and jandals. They have figured out that branding is not a logo slapped on a sign. It is the naming of lanes. It is the tone of a rule. It is whether the front desk calls you a member or just asks for your ten dollars. In 2026, the most unexpectedly sharp marketing work in the country might be happening next to a faint whiff of chlorine. And honestly, good on them.
I fell down this rabbit hole after visiting the newly renamed Tidal Commons in a mid-sized North Island town. It used to be called something forgettable with the word "leisure" wedged in the middle. Now it has lane names instead of numbers. “Long Haul”. “Gentle Drift”. “Show Off”. The toddler pool is “The Puddle”. The dive well is “Commitment”. None of this is ironic. It is deeply considered. The wall copy talks about bravery, about Tuesday night regulars, about the particular pride of a 25 metre badge. You can feel the strategy. This is not a pool. It is a civic arena.
What’s clever is how design is being used to change behaviour. Bookings are up for the 6am slots because “First Light Club” sounds like something you join, not endure. Teen attendance has spiked since one centre reframed its strict no-bombing policy into a posted “Splash Charter”, written in plain, slightly cheeky language that treats young people like contributors, not problems. There are hand-painted record boards celebrating the slowest improver of the month alongside the fastest. It turns out that when you market participation instead of performance, people show up.
We talk a lot in this industry about purpose. Meanwhile, our local pools are out there practising it in togs and jandals. They have figured out that branding is not a logo slapped on a sign. It is the naming of lanes. It is the tone of a rule. It is whether the front desk calls you a member or just asks for your ten dollars. In 2026, the most unexpectedly sharp marketing work in the country might be happening next to a faint whiff of chlorine. And honestly, good on them.