The Carousel of Desire: How Branding Became More Important Than Taste
Have Advertisers found a way to take us back to that place we so desperately ache to go again? I believe they have.
My first real obsession with anything was when I was 12 years old. The year was 1992, and all I wanted was to be Like Mike. I was just getting into basketball then and it wasn’t until I saw Michael Jordan’s “Be Like Mike” commercial that a fixation on jumping through the air towards the hoop came to be. I had to have me a pair of Nike’s and no cost could sway me from this desire. The commercial captures the idea that even as a young kid, you could somehow be like him. To hold the ball and think you were him in a small tiny way, with your buddies all around you, would become a narrative of mine and many young adolescent kids alike. To own a pair of his signature shoes meant that in some small way you could somehow feel how he feels when he takes off. That you could somehow jump as high as he does or do the spins and the moves he pulled off on the court. These were the images I visualized each and every time I stepped on the court to play against my best friend, Harry. We’d duel it out — just to Be Like Mike.
Desire is something that draws us in and captivates each of us when we choose what we wear, who we admire and how we want to be perceived. Advertisers have found a way to cling to our deepest wants and make us feel as if what they’re selling us is something we must have. Memories, like the one Don Draper illustrates in this excellent clip from Mad Men, are the secret foundations of who we are. You don’t drink Grey Goose because you’ve studied it in the lab and found that it truly is the world’s greatest Vodka.
No.
You drink it because it makes you feel a certain way. It reminds you that you’re worth it and that spending just a bit more on your Vodka shows you care about what you drink. Putting that tall shiny bottle on the table so everyone can see you drink it is another reason you buy it, and capturing this feeling is what you desire the most. It’s a memory of an idea, and it’s why Grey Goose is the world’s best selling Premium Vodka. They’ve (advertisers) found a way to put luxury on the tip of your tongue (literally) and made you feel that if you’ve got the money, then you deserve to drink this premium product.
But at what cost? What impact does this form of excellent advertising have upon our perceptions of taste? And, if it does have any, does it really matter?
As an adult, I no longer crave the sensation of trying to be Like Mike. I’ve grown up realizing that to feel like him is to understand that I’ll never be him. Nike had me as a kid, but I now wear Adidas. I made the switch roughly 15 years ago, mostly because I found a pair of Adidas running shoes I enjoyed, so I’ve stayed with them ever since. Advertising didn’t sway me on this one; comfort did. I found Nike’s to be too tight on the sides of my feet, so I looked elsewhere. With that, I soon abandoned the brand, and I haven’t returned. Comfort came before a feeling, and looking back on this decision I now understand that what I did was a rare thing.
We associate who we are with feelings all the time. Self worth, how others make us feel and how we want to be portrayed are all psychological traits that stem from a feeling of want and desire. McDonald’s built their empire on the idea that kids will love eating Happy Meals. As a child you see their commercials with Ronald McDonald and his crew and see all the fun they’re having, and yes, you want to feel this way too. Eating a Happy Meal will do this for you. So you beg Mom and Dad to take you. And for a second, after you take that first bite, you feel what it was like to watch that commercial once more. This sensation washes over you. And it will come back again and again every time you return. This first memory never leaves you, and it is ultimately what drives most of us to stick with certain brands.
Bombay Sapphire Gin isn’t popular because it’s the worlds greatest Gin. No, they’re popular because they tapped into the market of what was new and unknown. Back in 1987, a big blue bottle was new and it stood out very easily when put up against other brands. Hendricks did the same with their launch of a cucumber — and rose-infused gin. To make or re-create the same product over and over again is to not create memories. It’s why Grey Goose is still king, as they were the first to see what was being done and offer an alternative — a premium Vodka. Taste doesn’t matter and it never will. *Plus it’s Vodka, so it’s not like you’re tasting anything anyways.
In an essay he wrote for The New Yorker back in 2004, Malcolm Gladwell argues that the conundrum of taste comes from the idea that we don’t know yet what we want. In his piece, “The Ketchup Conundrum”, he talks about how up until the 1970’s, French’s yellow mustard was all that Americans wanted when it came to mustard. It was the standard. It was all they knew. That is until Grey Poupon arrived and showed them that there were other flavours one could love when it came to the type of mustard they might choose. Grey Poupon was grainy and tart, while French’s was yellow and slightly metallic. With choice came options, and those options led to the growth of Grey Poupon and the mustard industry. Nowadays you walk into any grocery store and you’ll find all kinds of brands of mustard. All different and all looking to find a way to create a memory as a catalyst for desire. Once they have you, they’ll have you. And this is where savvy branding comes in.
In the case of Grey Poupon, I think that their signature 1980’s ad of an old man asking for some Grey Poupon in his Rolls Royce alongside of the road is sheer genius. Much in the same way Grey Goose inculcated in us the idea that it was a Premium Vodka, Grey Poupon put in our heads that it too was premium. And with that, sales of Grey Poupon, again, quickly rose. As sociologist Howard Moskowitz states in Gladwell’s piece, “The mind,” as Moskowitz is fond of saying, “knows not what the tongue wants.”
- Side note: This Wayne’s World parody of Grey Poupon is way better.
Taste is arbitrary. Feelings and memories are more important.
As Don continues his speech in the scene above, the feeling of family and memory rush over everyone in the room; even he is moved by what he is saying. The carousel by Kodak will be that gateway for every family looking to feel what these men do in this scene — Love. To remember your wife and your kids and the way they make you feel is to desire life. Nike wanted me to feel what it would be like to be Michael Jordan. Grey Goose wants you to feel like a million bucks when you sip their premium vodka and Grey Poupon wants you to feel that French’s isn’t good enough for you, and that you deserve the Rolls Royce of mustards. Advertising trains us to fall in love with a product and in a way it’s hard not to sometimes. In a world where things can mess with you all the time, knowing that when you buy your mustard or vodka you can always count on the sensation a certain brand has given you in the past is a comforting feeling.
Advertisers know this and it’s only time we accept that ultimately taste doesn’t always matter. Feelings do.
Round and round and back home again we return, to a place where we know we are loved. The time machine of our lives, where we ache to go again.
It’s the carousel of desire, and it’s why branding has become more important than taste.
