Packaging Is the New Merch Table (And It's Selling Out Fast)
Last weekend, I got a bar of chocolate that looked like a record sleeve. Not a metaphorical one. The thing was textured like vinyl, came with a mini booklet, and cracked just right when you broke it. I didn’t even check the cacao percentage. Didn’t care. Whoever designed that pack had more of my trust than a five-star review ever could.
Packaging, the overlooked wing of design, has quietly slipped into the spotlight. Once an obligatory label job, now it's built like artefacts. Take the rise of keepable packaging—ceramic skincare containers, coffee bags that double as art prints, boxes you can't throw out out of guilt. Designers aren’t just making things look good. They're building objects with cultural weight. If a box makes it onto a shelf-turned-insta-backdrop, that's influence.
It's seeped into behaviour too. At garage sales I’ve watched people buy defunct tech because the box was cool. What's weirder? That I get it. Consumers don’t just judge packaging anymore. They flirt with it, buy it, and sometimes never even open the thing inside. Design agencies have noticed. Brands now build identities from the unboxing experience out—not the product in.
We used to keep concert tickets, now we collect oat milk cartons. I’m fine with that. If design keeps making the mundane feel extraordinary, then your pantry's about to get emotional. And probably more photogenic.
Packaging, the overlooked wing of design, has quietly slipped into the spotlight. Once an obligatory label job, now it's built like artefacts. Take the rise of keepable packaging—ceramic skincare containers, coffee bags that double as art prints, boxes you can't throw out out of guilt. Designers aren’t just making things look good. They're building objects with cultural weight. If a box makes it onto a shelf-turned-insta-backdrop, that's influence.
It's seeped into behaviour too. At garage sales I’ve watched people buy defunct tech because the box was cool. What's weirder? That I get it. Consumers don’t just judge packaging anymore. They flirt with it, buy it, and sometimes never even open the thing inside. Design agencies have noticed. Brands now build identities from the unboxing experience out—not the product in.
We used to keep concert tickets, now we collect oat milk cartons. I’m fine with that. If design keeps making the mundane feel extraordinary, then your pantry's about to get emotional. And probably more photogenic.