The Absurd Genius of Limited-Edition Chip Flavours in Brand Collabs
There's a packet of Vegemite and Raspberry Ripple chips sitting on my kitchen bench right now. I haven’t opened them. I might never open them. But I hunted them down like an archaeologist seeking relics of an extinct species. And that, weirdly, is the point.
Consumer goods brands, particularly snack food ones, are quietly mastering something most marketers fumble with: tension. Not storytelling, not loyalty drives, but pure, focused tension. That electric little panic that hits when you think, "Wait, if I don’t buy this now, I might never get it." It’s the same feeling that drives queuers at Supreme drops or early morning Glastonbury ticket refreshers. Only instead of shoes or music, it’s deep-fried tangents of madness. Chips that taste like cocktails. Ice cream that channels roast lamb.
Better still, these fast-and-weird launches aren't afraid of being disliked. In fact, they thrive on being divisive. A backflip from the usual ad brief that asks for universal appeal. Each limited edition dares to be weird in public, and that leaves a mark. Whether consumers mock it, love it, or accidentally feed it to their dog, they remember it. Attention is currency, and these snack brands trade in it better than most banks.
So marketers, take note. Sometimes, chasing the strange idea—then leaning into the ridiculous—is more effective than romanticising your brand’s long-standing legacy. No one wants authenticity in a chip. They want to be surprised. And possibly a bit disgusted. That’s brilliant marketing. That’s unforgettable.
Consumer goods brands, particularly snack food ones, are quietly mastering something most marketers fumble with: tension. Not storytelling, not loyalty drives, but pure, focused tension. That electric little panic that hits when you think, "Wait, if I don’t buy this now, I might never get it." It’s the same feeling that drives queuers at Supreme drops or early morning Glastonbury ticket refreshers. Only instead of shoes or music, it’s deep-fried tangents of madness. Chips that taste like cocktails. Ice cream that channels roast lamb.
Better still, these fast-and-weird launches aren't afraid of being disliked. In fact, they thrive on being divisive. A backflip from the usual ad brief that asks for universal appeal. Each limited edition dares to be weird in public, and that leaves a mark. Whether consumers mock it, love it, or accidentally feed it to their dog, they remember it. Attention is currency, and these snack brands trade in it better than most banks.
So marketers, take note. Sometimes, chasing the strange idea—then leaning into the ridiculous—is more effective than romanticising your brand’s long-standing legacy. No one wants authenticity in a chip. They want to be surprised. And possibly a bit disgusted. That’s brilliant marketing. That’s unforgettable.