box vox

Super PAC Packaging

As we enjoy a new, hyperbolic political season, generously funded by large amounts of Super Political Action Committee money, I thought it might be a good time to take a look at some earlier types of Super Pac.

Not surprisingly, the name was previously associated with packaging.

SuperPac, Inc., whose logo appears at top, offers “A Tradition of Excellence in Flexographic Printing.”

SuperPAC™ (logo: above center) is a trademark of Thomasville Furniture:

Thomasville’s promise to provide our customers with the best overall kitchen, bath, and other room solutions initiated our development of SuperPAC, our patent pending packaging technique.

And SuperPac is also the name of a British company that makes a car stereo accessory. (Logo by Frankman Design)

Superpac is the new way to hold your detachable car stereo front. Designed to replace the dull black plastic case supplied with most car stereos, the Superpac offers you a stylish way to protect your cherished face-off style car stereo.

Mastey de Paris carries a SuperPac “Intensive Reconstructor Conditioner for Stressed, Damaged Hair” (above, right)

Superpac reconstructs damaged hair, rebuilding and reinforcing the hair’s protein chains. Superpac enables hair to retain its elasticity and structural integrity with newfound bounce and resilience.

Mastey de Paris

There was also a Timberland Super Pac boot. (via: Gwar Izm)

Nowadays, a candidate whose political campaign benefits from Super PAC money is not supposed to “coordinate directly” with his or her Super PAC benefactor. In practice, however, a candidate’s Super PAC is often run by a close ally—a Super PAC man.  (e.g., Jon Stewart is Steven Colbert’s “Super PAC man”)

Not to be confused with an earlier “Super Pac-Man.”

Top & center: Commodore 64 “Super Pac-Man” packaging from Moby Games; bottom photo: a General Mills Pac-Man cereal with “Super Pac-Man Marshmallows” from Jason Liebig’s flickr Photostream

Now, if we were willing to be more liberal about the spelling of the term—accepting say “PAK” as a reasonable variant (as in Political Action Kommittee?)—then there’s even more to think about.

(More, after the fold...)

Ron English: Popaganda Shopdropping

Ron English is the artist who created the zipper/banana album cover mash-up that we wrote about last January.

More recently he’s been doing some cereal box package design (i.e.: art) which he’s been shopdropping into supermarkets. These “popaganda” food repacks are subversive in the same dumb sort of way that Wacky Packages were: creating momentary consumer confusion and adding a satiric, negative spin to trademarked food brands.

Some commentators have taken the cereal series as nutritional agitprop in opposition of childhood obesity. I’m not sure that English’s agenda is so politically correct, but I could be wrong.

The fun part of shopdropping, however, is when consumers puzzle over the aberrant branding messages and, in some cases, blithely purchase them.

Part of the reason I prefer not think that English’s messaging is sincerely literal is the “Sugar Diabetic Bear” below, which in my (diabetic) view is amusing, but not entirly accurate. Yes, Type 2 diabetes can be brought on by obesity, but what about Type 1 diabetes? Eating sugar certainly didn’t cause my diabetes. (See: Diabetes Myths)

(One more thing about Ron English and diabetes, after the fold...)

Bottles with Embroidered Shirt Labels

Another example of cross-category, clothing-related package design: Eau de Lacoste “Poloshirt in a Fragrance” bottles with their alligator shirt embem. Note the fabric texture on the sides of the bottle. (See also: Package as Clothing)

My earliest memory of an embroidered alligator emblem was when my mother in the late 1950s or early 1960s created some counterfeit Lacoste shirts for my grandfather, my father, me & my little brother. This was motivated more by the alligator than the brand status, I think, since we lived in south Florida, not so far from the Everglades. (See also: Crocodile Boxes—Alligator Bags)

Still, my mother must have been aware that the Lacaoste alligator emblem was a self-proclaimed “status symbol.”

René Lacoste founded La Chemise Lacoste in 1933 with André Gillier, the owner and president of the largest French knitwear manufacturing firm at the time. They began to produce the revolutionary tennis shirt Lacoste had designed and worn on the tennis courts with the crocodile logo embroidered on the chest. Although the company claims this as the first example of a brand name appearing on the outside of an article of clothing, the “Jantzen girl” logo appeared on the outside of Jantzen Knitting Mills’ swimsuits as early as 1921. In addition to tennis shirts, Lacoste produced shirts for golf and sailing. In 1951, the company began to expand as it branched from “tennis white” and introduced color shirts. In 1952, the shirts were exported to the United States and advertised as “the status symbol of the competent sportsman,” influencing the clothing choices of the upper-class. Lacoste was sold at Brooks Brothers until the late 1960’s. It is still one of the most popular brands in the United States, sporting the “preppy wardrobe”.

from Wikipedia’s entry on history of Lacoste

Invariably, when packaging serves as a metaphor for clothing, a consumer naturally tends to anthopomorphize and even identify with the product contained.

(The advertising, after the fold...)

Coca Cola’s Dripping Negative Space

On left: “liquidated” Coca Cola logo by Zevs; center: a recently discontinued Coke can; on right: Zoo’s package design for Rubén Álvarez yogurt.

The first time I saw the seasonal Coca Cola can above was from a distance of about 3 yards (2.75 m). I was in the back of the supermarket by the meat cases when I noticed some cans with what appeared to be dripping white frosting (or melting glacial ice?) on display in a Coca Cola end cap.

I left my shopping cart where it was and crossed over for a closer look. Not drips at all, but just the negative space behind some polar bears on a silver ridge.

Maybe I’m predisposed to seeing dripping graphics everywhere, but, even if this optical illusion is unintentional, a dripping white package does seem in keeping with Coca Cola’s frosty, cold gestalt. And, to my eyes, the white ink comes to the foreground and the silver metal of the can is the more natural background.

None of this matters much in the face of another negative controversy. The package design was intended to be part of Coke’s “cause marketing” effort to protect the polar bear, but this message is being overshadowed by the problem of diabetic consumer confusion.

“I purchased three six-packs because I thought they were diet,” Gail O’Donnell of Danvers, Massachusetts, told ABC News.

“I drank one and wondered why it tasted so good. I didn’t look at the can. … I am a diabetic and can only drink diet sodas. They need to make it so it is not confused.”

Coke and Diet Coke Cans Should Be Polar Opposites, Buyers Say

Coca Cola has therefore discontinued production of the white can, switching back to last year’s red version. So diabetics (like me) won’t get confused and drink regular, caloric Coke by mistake, screwing up their blood sugar.

Come to think of it, the red can looks a little like dripping blood.

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Entenmann’s Boxcar

Photos above and below by Rich Melvin

Licenced Entenmann’s/Lionel O gauge operating boxcar comes in an  Entenmann’s-style see-through pastry box:

“It is not often that a railroad club car¹ gives you a craving for sweets, but that is what happened when I saw the 2010 Lionel operating car from the Railroad Museum of Long Island (RMLI) in its authentic-looking white and blue Entenmann’s baked goods box...

This innovative box design was the brainchild of Bob Mintz, chief design engineer of the RMLI.”

Ed Boyle, How Sweet It Is
O Gauge Railroading, June-July 2011

(Another photo and a footnoted digression, after the fold...)

Nike & Newport (Swoosh and Spinnaker)

The similarity of Nike’s and Newport’s logo has been well noted. Not a problem between the two companies when shoes and cigarettes are clearly separate industries. But when they get mashed up together, as with Ari Foreman’s 2008 “Ari Menthol” shoes, and are packaged in an oversized flip-top cigarette shoe box...

The Newport symbol, first used in 1969, is called their “spinnaker” logo. Think: sailboats, wind, respiration. (See also: square-rigged sail logo of Banks Beer)

The Nike symbol (their “swoosh” logo) was designed in 1971 by Carolyn Davidson. Think: curvy checkmark, fluid motion, sports.

Another example of a Nike/Newport mash up are a 2009 series of “Nike Newports” by Danny J. Gibson:

I was wondering: has anyone ever mashed it up the other way round—as Nike Cigarettes?

(Asked and answered, after the fold...)

Medicinal Marijuana Package Design Makeover

Bay Area Green Cross Dispensary, Inc. has recently rebranded their “medical cannabis” product line with a new registered trademark and a new packaging design...

“in response to revised labeling and packaging guidelines issued by the San Francisco Department of Public Health (DPH). The new labels are designed to better inform users that the product is medicine, not food, and to make the product unattractive/unappealing to children.

I’m not sure I agree that the new branding is strictly medicinal. The “freshly baked” tagline puts this logo somewhere between the baked goods section of a supermarket and stoner-culture comedy films like “Half-Baked.”

Also in the same press release is this:

“Our new packaging complies with the new regulations, enhances safety, and integrates the flare and style that The Green Cross is known for.”

In this context, I can’t quite decide whether the use of “flare” (rather than “flair”) is an inadvertent malapropism or an oblique reference to “lighting up. Although it could also refer to a “flare up” of glaucoma or some other medical condition requiring the use of Incredimeds brand medical cannabis.

More information here: Medical Cannabis Edibles —(but no mention the package designer).

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Homophonic Consumer Confusion: Oxol Doll ≠ Oxydol

On left: a bottle of “Oxol” cleaner from a 1929 ad appearing in The Kingston Daily Freeman; on right: an Oxydol box for sale on eBay for $17.90

In the previous post we compared Oxydol’s early package design to Opal’s stunningly similar packaging. Same basic design, but different product categories — so no trademark infringement there.

Oxydol and Oxol, on the other hand, were both cleaning products. Their package design was not confusingly similar, but the manufacturers of these two products were nonetheless pitted against each other in the landmark trademark infringement case of PROCTER & GAMBLE CO. v. J. L. PRESCOTT CO.

In testimony about an ongoing Oxol radio promotion, Procter & Gamble set out to prove that Oxol had deliberately chosen a “doll” as a free product premium, in order for its “Oxol doll” to be mistaken for “Oxydol” and “sought to profit by the confusion that would result.”

“When you buy a bottle of Oxol, take the label off and send it to the Oxol trio in care of this Station, or address your letter to the J. L. Prescott Company, Passaic, New Jersey. ... In return, they will send you the gaily colored "Oxol" rag doll that children love. ... And don’t forget to send in an Oxol label for one of those little Oxol Rag Dolls.” The substance of this broadcast was repeated many times. Upon several occasions radio announcers referred directly to the “Oxol doll”. Instructions for completing the “Oxol doll” were sent to all who requested the doll from the Prescott Company.

It is obvious that when the tongue pronounces the words “Oxol doll”, or when the mind operates to put these two words together, a connection in thought between Procter & Gamble’s product and Prescott’s product is inescapable. Such a connection must have occurred to the Prescott Company. Why then was such advertising made use of? The answer is obvious. Ground for mistake in the public mind as to Oxydol and Oxol was well laid and the resulting confusion may not be described as a coincidence.

Confusion as to which company was offering the doll in return for the label immediately came to pass and this was admitted by one of Prescott’s officers. Many housewives sent Oxydol labels to Procter & Gamble and demanded the Oxol doll. An examination of the letters in evidence seems to indicate that the persons writing them were ordinary members of the purchasing public. One housewife wrote, “Am sending the clip off of the Oxydol box. Would you please send us one of your rag dolls...”. Another wrote, “Enclosed is a clipping from Oxydol. Kindly send me a rag doll, as promised over Radio.”

PROCTER & GAMBLE CO. v. J. L. PRESCOTT CO., 1931
via: Leagle.com

Assuming that the correct product label was sent, what the Oxol customer ultimately received via return mail was this:

Above: the “Oxol Doll” and the envelope that it came in (via: eBay)

Looks more like a paper doll than the “rag doll” they advertised, but “truth in advertising” is perhaps not so stringent when it comes to free promotional items.

(See also: Packaging and Consumer Confusion)

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Beautiful Breath: Package Design & Trade Dress Drag

On left: Rigaud’s 1915 Un Air Embaumé packaging; on right: Marcel Duchamp’s 1921 Eau de Voilette bottle

“Duchamp created this “perfume readymade” from an empty bottle of a Rigaud perfume called Un Air Embaumé (Scented  Air) that had been designed by Julien Viard, a sculptor who was known for creating perfume bottles with figural stoppers.”

Victoria Rose Pass
Strange Glamour:
Fashion and Surrealism in the Years between the World Wars

The advertisement above (from eBay) shows Viard’s original bottle design. (A sculptural detail on the side of the Un Air Embaumé bottle is shown on right.)

“Julien-Henri Viard, an award winning French sculptor, worked for his father, Clovis, from 1900 until the father’s death in 1927. Julien continued to run the glass workshop until 1938 when it merged with glass producer Depinoix. Julien is best known for his elegant perfume bottles with many examples surviving until today in collections world-wide.”

Selling Things Webstore

_______________________________

“... the versatility of Julien Viard is such that it is difficult to fit all his work with a single type... a huge variety of containers, with exquisite patina and perfect finishes.”

Museu del Perfum

“Belle Haleine: Eau de Voilette (Beautiful Breath: Veil Water) is the amusing title Marcel Duchamp gave to a work of art that he made — with the assistance of Man Ray — in the spring of 1921. At first glance, it appears to be little more than an ordinary perfume bottle, although readers of French might confuse it with a mouth wash, which, if consumed, would give them, as the label indicates, belle haleine (beautiful breath). We now know that in order to produce this work, Duchamp appropriated an actual bottle of perfume issued by the Rigaud Company of Paris in 1915 for Un air embaumé, the name given to the most popular and best-selling fragrance the perfumery had produced in its sixty-five year history. Advertisements for this product feature a scantily clad female model holding a bottle of the perfume below her nostrils, the essence of the liquid rendered visible as an undulating, ribbon-like shape floating through the air. The model is shown taking a deep breath, her eyes closed and head tilted slightly back, as if to suggest that the scent possess the qualities of an aphrodisiac, rendering powerless all who inhale its intoxicating vapors. It may have been precisely these qualities that attracted Duchamp to this particular brand of perfume, for he wished to draw attention to the woman whose features are depicted on the bottle, his newly introduced female alter-ego: Rose Sélavy.”

Francis M. Naumann
Christie’s, November 2008

Left: Julien Viard; center: Duchamp in drag (Rose Sélavy); right: Francesco Vezzoli, also in drag

(More about Francesco Vezzoli, after the fold...)

On the “Stree” Where I Live (Pornographic Branding)

In a way, this one’s a follow up to Karen Abel’s PBR flowers. Like her, I found some discarded packaging in an empty planter. Unlike her, I’m not thinking of making these into flowers.

Unusual to see such a sexually explicit illustration on a retail package. If this were a trend, what would we call it? Pornographic branding? Pornographic graphic design? (See also: Packaging Junk)

At first I thought it was a condom package—a common enough form of litter in our neighborhood.

Printed on a fancy holographic foil stock... Muti-national flag icons lined up in a row, but all the text was in Japanese so I couldn’t read what it said. I searched for the UPC number in Google and learned that it’s a Japanese patent-medicine sex-pill called “Stree Overlord” (sometimes misspelled as “Street Overload”) Not a condom package, after all.

It turns out that this product is one of many mysterious “herbal” products sold at the deli on our corner, even though there’s evidence online of the FDA intercepting imports of Stree Overlord because “Required label or labeling appears to not be in English” and because “The article appears to be a new drug without an approved new drug application.”

But those aren’t the only regulations that Mayo Kaisha Pharmacy Export Ltd. is flouting. They are also trampling trademark law. The two characters on the box are Chun-Li and Ryu from the Capcom video game known as “Street Fighter.”

Interestingly, Stree Overlord’s own trademark is also being infringed upon. Their web site has one page complaining:

“It has come to our attention that Stree Overlord has become so popular that many have decided to duplicated and copy from us to try and take away what we have worked so hard for.”

(There are now counterfeit versions of the product being manufactured in China.)

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design
 

Uncapped Landfill Jar #2

This eight sided jar has embossed letters on each panel which (if you start with the upper case “B”) spell out the brand “Barbasol.” Guessing that (prior to containing sand and seaweed) this jar must have once held shaving cream, I checked their website’s history section which confirms:

Over the years, Barbasol has been sold in a variety of packaging types and sizes. The Giant Jar was originally sold for 75¢.

As the photo on right shows, this jar originally came in a red, white and blue folding carton. That box apparently did not make it to Dead Horse Bay’s “bottle beach.” Nor did the jar’s cap. There are, however, a surviving examples to be found online...

(More Barbasol jar photos, after the fold...)

Shredded Wheat Documents: Cereal as Intellectual Property

Patented in 1895 by Henry Perky, Shredded Wheat was initially denounced as tasteless by John Kellogg: like “eating a whisk broom.”

As Perky found success in manufacturing the cereal, however, Kellogg did offer to buy him out, but for too low a price.

Perky died in 1908 and the “Shredded Wheat Company” continued as exclusive manufacturers of the biscuits until Perky’s utility patents expired in 1912...

At this point Kellogg’s began to manufacture their own version of Shredded Wheat and a series of litigations began, culminating in the landmark “Kellogg Co. v. National Biscuit Co.”

The Shredded Wheat Company was acquired by the National Biscuit Company in 1930, and two years later Nabisco brought yet another suit, which six years later would reach the Supreme Court ...

The Court’s analysis.. compared the size, form and color of the cereal cartons in which each company sold its biscuits, and noted the use (and size and prominence) of a house mark by Kellogg to differentiate its product. Indeed, the Court went so far as to assess the post-sale market such as restaurants, in which (because the carton was not present) the size and appearance of the competing biscuits themselves were crucial. Kellogg’s biscuit was only two thirds of the size of Nabisco’s biscuit, and slightly different in appearance...

...the Kellogg Court found both the term SHREDDED WHEAT and the pillow shape of the biscuits to be generic...

The Story of Kellogg Co. v. National Biscuit Co.: Breakfast with Brandeis

(For more about John Kellogg, see: Bobby Grossman’s Corn Flakes, Die Originalen)

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Maker’s Mark Trademark

And speaking of bottles and drips...

Maker’s Mark is sold in squarish bottles which are sealed with red wax... Samuels’ wife, Marjorie “Margie” Samuels, gave the whisky its name, drew its label, and thought up the wax dipping that gives the bottle its distinctive look. It was introduced to the market in 1959.

Wikipedia entry on Maker’s Mark

Introduced in 1959 — trademarked in 1985 (below), in 2003 Maker’s Mark (above, left) sued Cuervo for violation of trademark due to Reserva tequila’s similar dripping red wax seal (above, right).

This lawsuit dragged on for seven years, but Maker’s Mark ultimately prevailed. (See: Maker’s Mark Trademark Wax Seal Is Affirmed)

How it is done:

(More about Maker’s Mark, after the fold...)

Marlboro Beer

In the early 1970s, after buying Miller Brewing Company, Philip Morris experimented with extending its Marlboro Cigarettes brand to cover beer, as well...

Tobacco giant Philip Morris had just acquired full ownership of Miller Brewing during the previous year. The company had big plans for Miller, hoping to apply the same advertising strategies to the beer industry that it had used to propel Marlboro cigarettes to the top position within the tobacco industry. (The company even test-marketed “Marlboro Beer” but ultimately shelved it.)

BeerHistory.com

Ever since reading about that, I've been looking for photos of the test-marketed “Marlboro Beer” packaging and this weekend they turned up. The three bottle photos above are from a listing on Craig’s List: Marlboro Beer - $1000 (Lake of the Ozarks)

The 1970 trademark filing, I found on Trade.Mar.cz, proving (I think) that this is the real deal and not some Photoshop sleight of hand (like this or this).

This idea of Marlboro making a cross-branded beer goes to my earlier thread about products that combine or conflate smoking and drinking.

(The full trademark filing and how Marlboro might have cross marketed both products, after the fold...)

Brandnomer

Photo Illustration by Jason Fulford and Tamara Shopsin for Cooking with Dexter

Just learned a new word: brandnomer. (brand name + misnomer = brandnomer)

The concept isn’t new to me. I’ve just been calling it by its generic name: “genericized trademark.”

It’s a dilemma for manufacturers. Good to have your product be so successful that its trade name is the first word that comes to mind. Bad when the court decides that your product’s name has become a colloquial term and can now be used to describe all products in your category—including your competitors!

When this bad thing happens they have a word for that, as well: genericide. In his column on Sunday, about homemade gelatin desserts, Pete Wells seemed to be bending over backwards to avoid committing genericide. (Hence: the crossed out Jello-O logos in the beautiful photo-illustration, above.)

We do keep at least one kind of powder in the cabinets: Knox brand gelatin. This permits us to make what I would call Jell-O, if Kraft Foods would let me get away with it... If I were English, I could call the wiggly desserts I make with this powder “jelly,” but in my country, jelly goes on toast. I am stuck with calling them “gelatin,” which sounds as appetizing as a Band-Aid.

Pete Wells, Cooking With Dexter: Wiggle Room
NY Times Magazine, Sunday, July 25, 2010

Which is a funny thing to say, since Band-Aid is, apparently, an appealing enough sounding name that—(like Jell-O)—it has had to shore up its defenses to avoid becoming a colloquial term. Cited on Wikipedia as an example of how to avoid genericide, Band-Aid revised their jingle to emphasize the brand specificity of their name. (Changing the lyrics from “I am stuck on Band-Aids, ’cause Band-Aid’s stuck on me” to “I am stuck on Band-Aid brand, ’cause Band-Aid’s stuck on me.”)

Meanwhile, I would agree with Wells, that “gelatin” sounds as appealing as an adhesive bandage.

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Trademark-Infringing Dope Bags

And as long as we’re talking about injectables and pharmaceutical packaging... 

From Dequincey Jynxie: trademark-infringing dope bags. Not that there’s much danger of consumers confusing one of these heroin packets for a cup of Starbucks or a Prada bag.

Not that every one of these is a borrowed trademark —“Top Shelf” is more or a generic irony. “No Stamp” seems more conceptual—a vaguely “anti-branded” heroin with a self-contradicting paradox a la “Ceci n'est pas une pipe.”

Not that every single one of these is a heroin packet. The lower right wrapper is for 40mg Methadone wafers, which have their own packaging issues.

(See also: Packaging Junk and Tom Fruin)

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Typecube™ — 3 more types

I’m done with the Rubik’s Cube thread for now. Honest. The thing is, it led me to some related loose ends—loose ends that I now feel compelled to tie up...

One of last week’s typographically-hacked Rubik’s cubes was Scott Kellum’s “TypeCube”—(inset, on right). Search online for that brand name, however, and you will find at least three other “Typecubes.” Not a huge trademark infringement case, since these are small DIY graphic-designer projects. Still—all but one of the designers has seriously considered selling their Typecubes and, for potential products, there may be some confusing similarity.

1. At top is Manuel Kiem’s 2007 Typecube. Not a Rubik’s cube exactly, but a twistable, modular font-stamping device, similar to Jas Bhachu’s more recent “Font Generator” which we also featured last week. Kiem offers a free font based on his Typecube device. (Scott Kellum also offers a free font based on his Typecube device.)

2. Center photo shows Regina Rebele’s 2008 Type-Cube. Her project is made of paper and is definitely not a Rubik’s Cube. (Although it does appear to be a “Magic Folding Cube”) Also: even though her Type-Cube is nicely packaged, hers is the one that does not seem to be for sale as a product.

3. Lower photo shows Chris Clarke’s 2008 Typecube. Her project consists of a cube-shaped box containing 64 small wooden blocks, which can be used to form modular letters or patterns. A more recent version of this idea may be seen on another graphic designer’s web site: jori-design’s “One Hundred Cubes One Alphabet” — modular typography via small, cube-shaped blocks.

I am not trying to cause any trouble or stir up litigation here. I’m just saying... if a typographically-inclined loved-one wants a “TypeCube” next Christmas—you just need to be sure you know: “which type?”

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Campbell’s Spray Paint Cans

On left: “Campbell’s Graffiti Soup” by Rene Gagnon; on right: Mr. Brainwash’s “Tomato Spray.” Two different artists with a financial stake in the same concept. Both silkscreen prints. Both sold-out editions of 100.

To the extent that graffiti (and art, in general) has certain competitive goals in common with product branding—(getting the name out there, claiming territory, defending reputation)—it should come as no big surprise that graffiti artists would think of referencing consumer packaged goods.

While it’s nice to think that parallel ideas might signify some broader cultural shift, in situations where there is a potential for "consumer confusion"—as with consumer brands—this can be considered trademark infringement. 

Massachusetts-based Rene Gagnon and Los-Angeles-based Frenchman, Thierry Guetta (aka "Mr. Brainwash") are both graffiti-style artists, whose works have frequently alluded to Andy Warhol’s work. Among their many Warhol-based concepts, they each have done many, many artworks using this Campbells-Soup/Spray-Paint-Can idea. Naturally there has been controversy about who’s ripping off whom. (See: Bansky Forum) For the record, it appears that Rene Gagnon got there first in 2006.

Sure, “great minds think alike” and maybe the controversy has helped both artists garner more attention —(and therefore sell more art). But confusing, it certainly is.

“Multiplied Tomato Spray” by Mr. Brainwash (via: Dregs)

Rene Gagnon’s poster, above, confronts his competitor directly by ironically claiming “The Original” as his product benefit. (Layout is based on the same Campbell’s Soup “Can Bag” promotion that we featured: here) 

(More, after the fold...)

Packaging and Consumer Confusion

Top photo by Joan Marcus from 9 to 5 The Musical site (Megan Hilty as Doralee, Allison Janney as Violet—holding the boxes—and Stephanie J. Block as Judy); lower photo from Tiny Details dollhouse miniatures site (See also: Dollhouse Packaging)

This weekend I happened to catch some of 9 to 5—(that movie from 1980 starring Dolly Parton, Lilly Tomlin and Jane Fonda)—on TV. A significant plot point hinges on the issue of consumer confusion between two fictional packaged goods. Violet (played by Lily Tomlin in the movie) inadvertently purchases “Rid O Rat” rat poison, mistaking it for “Skinny n Sweet” artificial sweetener. She puts some in her boss’s coffee before realizing her error, and complications ensue.

Conclusion? While trademark law is generally more concerned with similarly packaged products in the same product category—(unfair competition and all)—clearly, there are also pitfalls to cross-category consumer confusion. (See also: Medicine Cabinet Candy)

Hence, the popular 9 to 5 catch phrase: “It looks just like Skinny ’n Sweet… except for the little skull and crossbones on the label.”

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design

Soup & Cigarettes: Separated at Birth?

 

Jeff Goran’s “A Lighter or a Spoon” conflates Campbell’s Soup with Marlboro Cigarettes

Jeff Goran’s packaging mash-up has already appeared in blogs aplenty... but I like it too!

I like how, in swapping the trade dress of these two products from two non-competing categories, he creates a momentary confusion. Although not the same sort of “confusion in the mind of the consumer” that motivated Philip Morris when they took King Mountain Cigarette Company to court earlier this year:

Philip Morris claims that the appearance of King Mountain’s packaging is a close copy or imitation of its Marlboro packaging such that consumers are both actually and likely to be confused, that Philip Morris’s Marlboro trademark is infringed and diluted, and alleges that its reputation is tarnished. King Mountain, on the other hand, argues that its packaging depicts Mt. Adams—known as “Pahto” in the Yakama Nation—a mountain of spiritual and cultural significance to the Yakama Tribe and that any resemblance to Philip Morris’s packaging is inadvertent and incidental. King Mountain applied to register its package design but the USPTO refused registration, citing two of Philip Morris’s registrations.

 

via Seattle Trademark Lawyer

Regarding Campbell’s and Marlboro, there’s little likelihood of any confusion (under ordinary circumstances) because they are sold in different, non-competing product categories. But they are similar...

Perhaps the most successful package redesign of all time was that done for Marlboro cigarettes in 1955 by the designer Frank Gianninoto. The Marlboro cigarette had existed previously in a white pack covered with weak graphic elements and a lot of copy. It was associated with women, at a time when buyers of filter cigarettes were most likely to be women. But filters were beginning to catch on with men too, and the redesign was prompted by the desire of Philip Morris, the tobacco company, to have a filter cigarette that would appeal to all. Gianninoto’s simplification was, in fact, very like the Campbell’s soup can— red on top, white on the bottom, with a coat of arms that like Campbell’s gold medal, tends to disappear. The white meets the red as an arrow pointing upward, a very simple graphic device visible on even the snowiest television set.

Marlboro Country Was Once No Man’s Land
By Thomas Hine, NY Times, Sunday, April 16, 1995

Interestingly, it was Gianninoto’s firm, Gianninoto Associates, that in 1999 altered the iconic Campbell’s packaging that Marlboro’s packaging most resembled. (See: After 102 Years, Campbell Alters Soup Labels)

 

Another thing that I like about Goran’s picture is how the two packaging shapes (can and box) work together like fraternal twins. (Sort of like this can-shaped product packaged in a box.)

Randy Ludacer
Beach Packaging Design