Smells Like Brand Clutter

The argument against brand proliferation really hit home after a recent family trip to the mall.

“Guess what we got?” my husband asked. He took the lid off a small plastic can and squished the goop inside. It made a distinctive sound that set the kids giggling.

“You bought Gas Putty!” I exclaimed. We had been hunting for it since Christmas, when the last can got rancid and we threw it away. Our six-year-old loves the stuff.

“Nope,” he said.

“Someone gave you Gas Putty?”

“Nope.”

“You got a free sample of Gas Putty?”

“Nope. It isn’t Gas Putty.”

I must interject here, with no small measure of embarrassment: In my house, we know from Gas Putty. The sound, the can, the neon glow: This was definitely Gas Putty.

Then he showed me the label. I gasped.

It was Fart Sludge.

I was not mortified that such a thing exists. I was only slightly mortified by its brass-tacks name. I was stupified that there could be two brands of this bizarre product.

Of the millions and millions of SKUs on retail shelves today, at least two are cans of faux flatulence.

I never thought much about brand clutter before the Food Marketing Institute issued a 1993 study that told manufacturers and retailers to pursue “true product variety” – fewer package sizes, flavors, flankers. Retailers were supposed to audit each category and trim slow-moving items. (Manufacturers were supposed to play along, and thus category management suddenly became all the rage as marketers justified their own hangers-on.) In short, FMI told grocers they could cut SKUs and still please shoppers. Made sense.

Since then, there have been clues that FMI was right – and that marketers didn’t really listen. The six flavors of Cheerios (pitched, ironically enough, as “The One and Only O”). The 150 types of Pokemon, corraled loosely together with the hard-sell tagline “Gotta catch `em all!” (And 100 more due this year.)

But the Gas Putty Incident makes it loud – excuse me – and clear: There are too many brands in the world. There is no difference between Gas Putty and its less delicately (though more accurately) named neighbor. Same size, same packaging, same price point, same ripping tone. Granted, Gas Putty and Sludge don’t sell in the same stores – we’d have to have another Million Mom March if the state of retail were that bad. (Anyone who wants to argue that there are two target audiences served via different retail channels, e-mail me. I dare you.)

They’re not even that widely distributed. We’ve asked for Gas Putty by name and gotten strange stares. My husband got a lot of practice describing the stuff to sales clerks. “It’s like Play-Doh, only softer, and you push on it and it goes [rude mouth noise here].”

“Oh,” one clerk finally said that fateful day. “That stuff. It’s not called Gas Putty. It’s, um, well – here, let me show you.”

Now, imagine your consumer is hunting for your product by feel, not by name. “It’s a vegetable-fruit juice blend.” “It’s a pre-packaged lunch with juice and dessert.” If the clerk could just as easily point them to your competitor, uh oh.

Here’s what I got from that trip to the mall: We need fewer brands, and better branding. If your product is going to make a lot of noise, make sure consumers remember its name.

And name it well. At least you can say “Gas Putty” in print.