Brushing up on branding.

1 min read

Last summer in France, I fell prey to an unexpected addiction: Marvis toothpaste.

(Disclaimer: this isn’t sponsored. In fact, Marvis doesn’t even know I exist).

Back to the point. Seduced by its decadent packaging and absurdly charming flavour range, I strutted out of a pharmacy clutching the Mint Jasmine variant. And while in the UK I’m the sort of person who stalks the Boots ‘3-for-2 aisle’, in France I cheerfully handed over €11 for a single tube of fancy paste.

That evening, I could not wait to get back to my hotel room to brush my teeth. This is wildly out of character, given that, in my hierarchy of chores, brushing and flossing sits somewhere between ironing shirts and filing taxes. If ChatGPT offered a tooth-brushing add-on, I’d subscribe with no hesitation.

Now, I am a marketer, and I know I paid triple the going rate for what is essentially toothpaste. Colgate would have achieved identical results in dental hygiene. But Marvis? Marvis sold me the ritual, not just fluoride and foam. I bought the brand, its story, the packaging, and the unusual flavour. A dash of joy was injected into an otherwise dull, three-minute ritual.

So, are humans willing to pay for frivolity? Yes.
Is Marvis toothpaste frivolous? Absolutely.
Thus, humans will gladly pay for it.

The lesson? Never underestimate consumers' willingness to pay for thoughtfully crafted experiences, even in the most unexpected categories.