The design of anti-design.

 This article brought to you by (brand name). 

Or maybe by No Name™. That's what you're seeing there in the yellow: a brand whose whole identity is based on having no brand name. You won't find any Eggo, they only make "original waffles". No Charmin either, just "bathroom tissue". 

Make no mistake, this campaign of anti-design isn't concerned with actually destroying brand image (they'll happily sell you all the bright yellow merchandise you can carry), they're more so trying to convince you that not having a design somehow puts them on the moral high ground. That, by spending a single cent on marketing or packaging design, all the other companies have duped you and you'd really be a fool not to buy all this plain yellow goodness. 

It is, of course, just another way to market a brand. 

To stray from consumer goods and into other areas of anti-design, this is a problem that I've often had with some works of minimalist architecture. I've got nothing but respect for Mies, but "less is more" is just not true a lot of the time. Not everyone wants to spend their life in a simple steel-and-glass box in much the same way that most people wouldn't enjoy plain boiled noodles for "their elegant simplicity and tasteful absence of sauce or seasoning".

For example, Philip Johnson's "Glass House" (apparently branded using No Name's method) is far too smug for my liking. I imagine the first construction meeting went a little something like this:

Contractor: "I don't think you've quite finished, so far you've designed an elaborate window."

Johnson (clothed in grayscale): "No, you complete barbarian, you absolute ignoramus. It's supposed to look like that, like I haven't tried in any way. You're so painfully gauche."

Much like the yellow packaging, minimalist architecture tries to claim moral superiority. It claims something to the effect of "you don't like it, it's just because you're brainwashed by the excess of consumerism and don't understand the elegance of it". Simplicity can be charming, but there's a limit. 

At some point, people pined for the simplicity because they were surrounded by the opposite-- historic buildings full of detail and flavor. Though it pains me, I can understand it: Ribeye is great, but nobody wants it three meals a day. Now that the anti-design motifs of all-glass and simple material texture have become prevalent, people are once again craving richness of design.