Advertising in the forest

While "eco" has now made a dubious career from an "it" word to a "shit" word, today everything that can't run fast enough is "organic". First and foremost, of course, fruit and vegetables, but also meat, gas, wall paint, toilet paper, bread and even clothing. The manufacturer promises that organic clothes decompose by themselves when they are no longer needed. Fortunately. Imagine if they decomposed when they were still needed. I can imagine some very unpleasant situations. Especially when I think about who typically wears such organic clothing. But that's not the point here today.

Cheerful brand guessing

Resourceful marketers have even created biodiesel, although there can hardly be anything more absurd than heavy fuel oil and organic hand in hand. True to the motto: the truth is what consumers are prepared to believe in. However, our times are obviously not as organic as the "organicized" range of goods makes it seem. For anyone strolling along the streets and through the woods imagines themselves in the middle of the garbage heap of a throwaway society: paper, boxes and bottles everywhere. The rubbish isn't pretty, but it does have one good thing: on long walks through the woods with our son, I can play "recognize paper" as soon as the person I'm talking to has fallen asleep. Very entertaining! There in the bushes, the faded yellow packet with the barely recognizable "-ne" on the back: clearly a Parisienne packet. Even a passionate non-smoker can see that. A little further on is a PET bottle with embossed vertical stripes, a slim waist and a red cap. Although the label has long since disintegrated (presumably in the acid rain), this disposable bottle is clearly a Coke bottle. And at the front, under the tree trunk, an elongated, white and black paper. What might that have been? Oh, how nice, a children's bar.

On the mossy wall a little further on is my next riddle: an empty cup, transparent, with a plastic dome like a porthole and a green figure with a double fish tail on its belly. Do you know who produced this disposable product? That's right, Starbucks. And what is that? Another PET bottle, but without a face and without a name. Too bad. The green and white can right next to it fared better. It may be crushed and a little rusty, but it is and remains a Heineken can. Even from a distance.

Finally, a red plastic bag with plain white lettering hanging out of the bin (correctly disposed of, after all) reminds me that I need to restock my wardrobe. The best place is Esprit. 

Brand management posthumously

My little trash reading leads me to the following, admittedly somewhat daring thesis: A brand is only successful when products are still recognized by passers-by as belonging to exactly the same brand and no other, even after decades under stinging nettles. Only those who still advertise posthumously are the true masters of being remembered.

Perhaps you could start a small test series in the forest to test my thesis. Long-term and sustainable, of course. That wouldn't really be organic. And certainly not organic. But it would be exciting.