Let Them Have Cake-Filled Keyboards: The Rise of Sugar-Coded Marketing
Last week, I was sent a press kit that contained a slice of lemon cake. Not a metaphorical one. A literal, spongey, artisan-baked triangle of citrus soaked sugar, chilling next to a sticker that said: "Your software just got zesty." I didn’t eat it, but I did stare at it for about nine minutes.
This is not an isolated case of snack-happy branding. There’s a growing design trend where marketers are baking feelings—nostalgic, homemade, messy feelings—into clean digital offerings. And I am completely here for it. Finally, a bit of irrational joy wedged into our inbox torrents. The idea is simple. If your product is boring (and most are), wrap it in a taste you can’t ignore. Literally. We're seeing gummies shaped like cloud infrastructure, butter-wrapped notebooks, and one mid-sized Christchurch-based design studio who now mails out edible business cards. I bit into one. It tasted like ambition and coconut.
There's real strategy under the sugar dust. Memory, as every semi-washed-out branding consultant knows, is multisensory. Taste latches on longer. Smell imprints. So it makes perfect sense that brands are skipping the polished brand book and diving headfirst into your pantry. This is marketing with calories. Design that leaves crumbs. And, maybe, a temporary oil slick on your MacBook.
The risk? Obvious. Gimmick overload. But the best versions do something deeper—they connect with you before you even open the box. In a world where brands scream for attention with neon minimalism and recycled typewriters, I'd rather be whispered to by cake. Wouldn't you?
This is not an isolated case of snack-happy branding. There’s a growing design trend where marketers are baking feelings—nostalgic, homemade, messy feelings—into clean digital offerings. And I am completely here for it. Finally, a bit of irrational joy wedged into our inbox torrents. The idea is simple. If your product is boring (and most are), wrap it in a taste you can’t ignore. Literally. We're seeing gummies shaped like cloud infrastructure, butter-wrapped notebooks, and one mid-sized Christchurch-based design studio who now mails out edible business cards. I bit into one. It tasted like ambition and coconut.
There's real strategy under the sugar dust. Memory, as every semi-washed-out branding consultant knows, is multisensory. Taste latches on longer. Smell imprints. So it makes perfect sense that brands are skipping the polished brand book and diving headfirst into your pantry. This is marketing with calories. Design that leaves crumbs. And, maybe, a temporary oil slick on your MacBook.
The risk? Obvious. Gimmick overload. But the best versions do something deeper—they connect with you before you even open the box. In a world where brands scream for attention with neon minimalism and recycled typewriters, I'd rather be whispered to by cake. Wouldn't you?