Inspiration is a notoriously fickle muse, flitting about with whimsical unpredictability. Yet, sometimes it chooses the most mundane settings to strike gold. For Topps senior designer Phil Imbriano, a routine subway journey offered just such a lightning bolt of creativity. Picture him, mind there but not quite engaged, as he rumbled through the city that never sleeps on the New York City subway, when his eyes caught an arresting combination of red and silver in the corner of the train car—a badge whose sleekness seemed to demand attention.
A quick photo later, that small badge became an anchor for imaginings, and by the time Imbriano reached his desk at Topps, his creativity was in full swing, translating this urban tapestry into sketches. Those quick sketches were the seeds that would bloom into the 2025 Topps Series 1 baseball cards, a design that senior vice president of product, Clay Luraschi, would endorse through a fiercely competitive in-house process that evaluated over 20 design ideas.
“I love drawing inspiration from everyday things,” Imbriano shared, painting a picture of a lifestyle steeped in observation, a photographer of the mundane who saw potential masterpieces in everyday oddities like subway fixtures or street signs. He’s a classic artist in that way, following his creative compass from random stops on his daily route to the hallowed halls of baseball card history. Who knew that the seeds of the cards launching today would be planted alongside the screech of subway brakes and the mutterings of midnight commuters?
The 2025 design channels a striking visual elegance by featuring bold lines that sweep up the left side and across the top of the card. To the seasoned collector, it offers a nostalgic nod, reminiscent in style to the 1982 Topps set. Here’s where the twist of fate reveals itself: this homage wasn’t planned, but the subconscious move links the retro with the renegade, modernizing nostalgia without losing its soul.
“I initially imagined channeling the woodgrain aesthetic of the 1962 and 1987 sets,” explained Imbriano. “The ’82 connection was a happy little surprise!” This happy accident creates a bridge across decades, echoing beloved designs of yore with a precision twist that color-coordinates these lines to the teams they represent.
The design selection wasn’t a simple affair, either. It was culled from a fierce pool of ideas, each more enticing than the last. Beating out 20 submissions in a rigorous selection process speaks volumes about the magnetic pull of Imbriano’s momentary commuter brainstorm. Surprisingly, past unselected elements don’t disappear forever but are often resurrected in later sets, proving that no artistic exploration is ever wasted.
From moment of inspiration to finished product, about ten different versions were scrapped before landing the final base design. There’s a deliberation to the madness, full of feedback loops and iterative refinements. “People don’t realize how much is happening behind the curtain before they ever grip a card tight in hand,” explained Imbriano.
Once these digital designs reached a conclusive stage, Topps shifted focus from digital drafts to tangible prototypes. This phase, according to Luraschi, represents a critical juncture where the physicality of an idea in print determines its viability. “Simulating the experience of opening a pack,” as Luraschi affectionately describes it, injects reality into theoretical designs. It’s immersive, contentious, and thoroughly exciting—bringing excitement akin to draft day trades in the Topps office, in their joyous attempt to balance heritage with novelty.
Beyond the base set lay a trove of complementary tales. Series 1 struts about confidently with themed subsets like “Future Stars” and the gloriously nostalgic “Call to the Hall,” celebrating Hall of Fame inductees. “Signature Tunes” pairs players with the artists behind their walk-up songs, ensuring authenticity with each swing of the bat.
For the Dodgers’ devoted followers, Topps serves up a supplemental surprise with base-card variations capturing jubilation intimately, including Freddie Freeman’s characterful signature move, “the Freddie Dance.” And then the cherry on this meticulously designed cake: a 35th-anniversary tribute to the feisty 1990 Topps set characterized by its lively designs, a testament to the staying power of good aesthetics.
Imbriano considers each card as a standalone spectacle. “I approach designing cards like I would a movie poster,” he notes, reveling in the lone action of each card becoming a centerpiece within a bustling collection. For collectors and colleagues alike, the card must scream its era, capture its zeitgeist, and make each onlooker pause—a tall order which this batch of vivid cards seems to deliver on.
“I think Phil’s design is incredible,” Luraschi chimed, “Fifty years from now, people should be able to look at a card and instantly gauge its era. This design timelessly captures that intention.” Considering the balance struck between creative impulse and intricate planning, who’s to say the occasional subway ride might not become an employee’s unofficial creative retreat in the future?
