I love ripples of celery Packaging on food, or indeed anything, sometimes leaves the imagination wondering exactly what was going on in the minds of the designers at the drawing board. Below, with the pictures, are two such examples. No, not the usual "Warning: may contain nuts" on a packet of cashews, but something much more exotic.

Celery.

Celery? Now, I know some people have these funny food allergies/intolerances/fads (I myself have joined those legions of the gastrically challenged, having become intolerant of lactose over the past couple of years. I smash up milk floats whenever I see them.) and it's actually really useful for the odd ingredient that gives the gut gip to be listed, but who on earth is allergic to celery? It's like the most benign food you could think of. Yeah, ok, you might not like it, but it's not gonna jump off your plate and clout you 'round the head or anything. Oh well, at least the anti-celery lobby can steer clear of a certain brand of soup.

Now onto a pet peeve of mine: really awful slogans. Sainsbury's seems to be becoming a prime offender, everything it makes is slapped with stupid clichés enticing you to succumb to buying the product. Dried prunes: "going fruity about fruit". Great, they took so much time with that one didn't they? (Also notice they're going for the "let's not use capital letters and seem more humanist" routine with ardour). Picture no. 2 I was quite surprised by. I've grown to expect the random sloganisation of Sainsbury's products, but the tagline "I love ripples of butter"? Puh-lease.

"Oooh, look at those Sainsbury's scones Doris, I can just see them rippling with lush, hot, dribbling butter. They'll go a treat for after me sardines. "

I don't think so. It's a bit sexual in a way too, the slight angling of the words "ripples of" as if it's a bit cheeky, a bit you know. God knows exactly what they're trying to do, I mean, if you're going to buy scones, the tagline's not making that much difference, is it? They're not bad scones though, it has to be said.

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Listening to: The Walkmen with fervour. The Rat is such an amazing tune, if you've not heard it, you do need to expose your ears to its greatness.

Posted: 19-11-05 19:01 :: Permalink: http://ben.corale.co.uk/archive/v1/211.html

Comments Use the form at the bottom to post your comments. Here is the feedback:

Richard writes Further suggestions for product taglines:
Duracel: Let Us Turn You On
DVDs: Slip Me In And Play Me (With A Remote)
and of course Potatoes: Shove Us Up Your Arse Commented: 20-11-05 17:08

Richard writes Furthermore, look at what I found on wiki for Celery:

'Caution

* Bergapten in the seeds could increase photosensitivity, so do not apply the essential oil externally in bright sunshine.
* Avoid the oil and large doses of the seeds during pregnancy: they can act as a uterine stimulant.
* Do not buy seeds intended for cultivation, because they are often treated with fungicides.'

So you see, there is a great need to add warnings to the cans. If you shove them in your eyes, they could cause blindness. Commented: 20-11-05 17:11

The blog author writes Gosh. So some unaware non-label-reading lady up the duff could eat the soup and pop! out comes baby, as well as the whole poking of celery in eyes. I never knew such vegetables could be so dangerous.


I wonder if my sister-in-law ate celery before giving birth to my second niece. She gave birth when standing to get out of the bath, and baby simply went whoosh, sploshing into the bath water. Talk about a water birth, and what a story she'll have when Grown Up. Commented: 20-11-05 18:11

Richard writes Good timing too. If she was getting out of the bath, a few more seconds and it's not 'whoosh', it's 'CRACK'.

Mmm. Crack.

How did it happen anyway - my (limited, granted) experience tells me that babies take a bit of effort to deliver? Commented: 20-11-05 22:49

The blog author writes Good timing indeed. It really did happen like that: my sis-in-law felt the contractions start, so decided to have a quick bath before going to hospital. Upon standing to leave the bath, completely unexpetedly, Sophia (as she was to be called, as opposed to the more apt Soapy) plopped out into the bath water. Instant birth craziness.


[There was a slight complication in that the placenta was completely torn from the uterus wall of sis-in-law, rather than detaching naturally, but no long term problems caused.] Commented: 20-11-05 23:03