Look at this picture:

It came in a box my mother sent from Japan. It’s a box of cookies, if it’s not apparent. The first thing about this thing you notice is the packaging—and there’s so much of it! I counted, there were four layers of it, not counting the retail store’s paper bag (neatly folded and sealed at the top with a piece of tape) and the produce box in which the whole thing, and a couple of other dainty things from the land of dainty, was mailed.
So, what is it? To find out: You open the bag (cut along a line printed with a little symbol of scissors); a thin, subtly-printed plastic layer snag around the outer box; then the boxes, one for each flavor, tied together in the outer cardboard brace. You slide the boxes out, carefully—these boxes have legs! Now standing side by side, they are open on the top, revealing, yes, one more layer of packaging. Each of these sakura(”cherry blossom” in Japanese) cookies comes individually wrapped, with a notch on one side for you to gently tear (I kid you not, there’s an instruction piece of paper telling you how).
Each piece is designed with consistent colors, illustrations and type, pulling you in deeper into the visceral appeal of the product. Say what you may about over packaging and its wasteful nature, this is an experience.
In contrast, here’s another picture:
I picked this up from a local grocery store. Still in its import section, though, as I am a bit of a snob when it comes to my sweets. I was looking for something substantial. Specifically, I was thinking of buttery shortbread biscuits, but the promise of chocolate chips (Belgian, no less) distracted me.
What do you do? You just open the box and tear at it, right? Nothing sexy or roundabout about it, really.
So, why am I raving on about packaging?
I have been turned on to it because of our current project, of course. We are working with a group of successful business people to come up with an invitation to a highly-exclusive event.
As I look at these packages and other examples on the streets and in the books, I am reminded that every step counts in creating an experience. In creating a memorable event, every detail, like what kind of envelope the invitation comes in, who delivers it, to the last detail of the event itself, like the silverware and the clothes the catering staff wear, has to come together. Our group is very collaborative and enthusiastic, and I am very excited to see where we can go with this project. We will post the resulted designs here soon.
So, about the cookies: how do they fare, as total packages? Turns out, the Walkers cookies are terrible. Dry, brittle and no flavor discernible other than sugar. I was disappointed especially because of the packaging, which promised something from Scotland, or Belgium (that should’ve been a clue. It’s never a good idea to trust someone who doesn’t know who s/he is). It made me feel like I just went to a kennel and picked up the wrong dog.
Do you care what those sakura cookies taste like? Not necessarily if you are annoyed with all that effort, but say you are intrigued—it’s good. Well, depending on who’s talking; they taste exactly like the package they come in; dainty, subtle, light, airy, and tiny. It’s like eating air bubbles, or, if you are like me, a piece of gold leaf, exquisite and ethereal.

A, what a wonderful post. Just goes to show how much a good product needs good packaging.
Now I’m dying for a cookie.
Come on by for a sample sometime - while supplies last!
Thanks Mara.