Osborne Pike

Welcome to Issue 7, liberally sprinkled with stories of honest, natural ingredients, how one word makes all the difference, mixing metaphors, and standing out by disappearing. Serve hot.

Big brands are discovering ways to take on the ‘I made this in my shed this morning’ story of artisan production. In the UK brand leader Müller (from Germany) and new arrival Nom (from Austria) are both emphasising their Shropshire location, and here in France Danone is reminding its customers that milk comes from farmers, not factories.

The assumption behind this brand story is that the farmers operate human‐scale and humane farms, which is presumably perfectly true in France. In the UK the prospect of ‘super‐dairy’ farms arriving from the USA makes me wonder who will want to be associated with that story?

‘La Fermière’ is a small scale producer (not a real farmer) from the Aubagne region close to Marseilles. That’s enough information for me to love these products already, but for the rather fussier French public the website waxes lyrical about the special ingredients and ‘unspoiled by progress’ production techniques.

The key brand equity that proves this story true is the real terracotta pot used for most products. But for me there’s a second level of evidence that seals the deal ‐ the multitude of shapes, colours and graphic design elements that ensure no ‘system’ is discernible. This level of disorganisation can be designed, but it’s much harder than making it logical. A redesign is in progress ‐ let’s hope they don’t tidy it up too much.

Trays. 30mm of troublesome barrier to your pack getting the attention it deserves, or a great opportunity to get even more? Two ways to get attention here: write ‘Attention’ in big letters on the tray; and put a big friendly brand symbol on the inside, so the empty tray keeps working hard.

We could do a whole blog on the delightfully wacky Michel & Augustin brand, whose strapline ‘les troublions du goût’ promises that normal rules do not apply. Take a look at some of their recipes here.

If English eccentricity works for Tyrrell’s in England, imagine how much easier a sell it is in Europe. These packs help by really bigging up the company’s vintage postcard collection.

Another ‘stuck in the past, and proud of it’ story, but it’s one that England does particularly well.

Sad to admit it but I first noticed the typography, which I hereby award the ‘best use of drop shadow’ prize this month. Quite why those people are so intrigued by that feather I will leave to your imagination. The brand? That’s on the other side of the box, so I don’t expect they do ‘competitors’.

Whilst competitors like Doritos have been getting lots of attention doing really cool stuff like co‐creation of new flavours and even ads, Pringles continues to quietly march on, growing 11% last year to reach number 35 in the UK’s biggest brands chart. Flavour innovation was a big part of this success, including new ‘Xtreme’ flavours aimed at younger consumers with more adventurous tastes (‘exploding cheese and chilli’, anyone?)

The packs go for Xtreme standout and present a rather mixed message that looks to me like a chartered accountant on ecstasy. But maybe that’s actually cooler than the lovely designer outfit created here.

This clever little assymetric tray allows the triangular form that denotes a speciality cheese to stand up and stand out. The pack itself mimics a cheeseboard and could actually be used that way on the table. But without a (graphic) story to tell me more about this brand, only packaging geeks might even notice.

What does white code for on a pack? Purity? Elegance? Lightness? Naturalness? Economy? All of the above of course, depending on context.

Here in tissueland Kleenex has long understood that the brand should be prominent on the shelf (to remind consumers of quality), but be invisible in the home (so the pack can blend in with my tasteful decor). Once the rules are written the subtlety stakes can be raised, like this elegant, shaped, unprinted but embossed tissue box from Private Label. Maybe The White Company should get some in?

Sainbury’s Private Label wines look resplendent in their matt black and gold labels, elegant typography, and a small but perfectly formed button to provide varietal coding. But the real story here is summed up in a single word: House. This transforms a good design into the special selection of an unseen sommelier.

“I bought the Sainsbury’s House wine” has a far better ring to it than “I got the own label, hope you don’t mind…”