It’s not easy for me to admit this, as I am not really known as the “emotional type,” but I need to get something off my chest…McDonald’s made me cry.
Allow me to explain:
It was a Saturday afternoon and my daughter and I were out running through my ever-growing list of errands when I realized that it was getting to be lunch time. I was too far from home to head there to satiate the persnickety cravings of a three-year-old, so I thought we should grab a quick bite on the road and the first thing that caught my eye was the “golden arches.”
Here’s the thing: I have never actually taken my daughter to McDonald’s before. There, I said it. I’m a vegetarian for crying out loud and I generally just don’t eat this kind of fast food. Hell, if I’m really honest, I didn’t really think I was a fast food kind of mom. I mean we buy organic and love Whole Foods, could I really take my daughter to McDonald’s? These thoughts rattled through my exhausted brain as I found my blinker turning on and my car cruising—as if being controlled by someone else—into the McDonald’s parking lot. With one click of the car seat buckle, I grabbed my daughter’s happy little hand and off we went.
Once inside, without a thought, I ordered my little lady a hamburger Happy Meal. The exact meal my mom had ordered for me close to 1 bazillion times before when I was a child. I got myself a milkshake (because, why wouldn’t I?) and we proceeded to a little corner table by the window. As my daughter tore into her bag with excitement and discovered not only French fries and a hamburger, but a toy surprise, she was absolutely GIDDY! She looked at me with such earnest three-year-old eyes and said, “I like this place momma, a LOT.”
That did it. Here come the waterworks. The feeling of nostalgia hit me like a tidal wave and I started to tear up like this was some sort of milestone moment in my daughter’s young life. I remember thinking, “What the hell is wrong with you lady, get it together!” But I couldn’t help but remember all the “special” meals I had at McDonald’s as a kid. All the affection I had for the brand that lay latent for 20 some odd years was back … with a vengeance.
Once I got myself together and my daughter happily gnawed on her tiny bag of fries, I started thinking about it. Why did I react this way? I guess it was a mixture of nostalgia, and a deep brand connection that caught me completely off guard. As a recovering member of the ad agency game, I couldn’t help but think if agencies could figure out how to harness this kind of connection with consumers it would be like uncovering the Holy freaking Grail. But it’s a tough nut to crack and it seems like there are really only a few iconic brands that will ever have permission to live on this kind of hallowed ground.
So what do you think, what brands do you find yourself most strongly connected to? But WAIT, before you answer, I would challenge you to skip the first few answers that come to mind and REALLY think about it. The answers might surprise you as much as McDonald’s surprised me.
Moxie. I’m a Mainer and nothing makes me more nostalgic or emotional than a bright orange can of this..um…unusual drink. I’m not a soda drinker, but Moxie knocks me out. (Okay, I’m starting to mist up.) I’ve even got an old Moxie ad (featuring Sox great Ted Williams) in my kitchen.
Great post for the Sally Field moment, the reasons why you reacted that way and the implications. I think that kind of latent brand connection is often just waiting to be tapped but we tend to let our rational side get in the way of the message.
Although i don’t have any brands that I connect with that really surprise me, I feel a similar generational connection to both Friendly’s and Snyders of Hanover Pretzels. Friendly’s because of all the quick weeknight meals with my mom and siblings that always ended with a little sundae – and the way it makes my kids feel when we go now; Snyders because I used to sit and watch Mets games with my dad and munch a big noisy, crunchy box of Sourdough Hard pretzels and now I sit with my son and a bag to watch Sox games.
Thanks for sharing your brand “moment.”
My heart flutters just thinking about Reese’s peanut butter cups. When I eat them, I actually get teary-eyed because they bring me to such a happy place. Furthermore, I eat them so sparingly due to their nutritionless benefits that upon immediate tongue contact, the sensation is euphoric.
I immediately feel as if I’m in a safe place of the purest happiness and unconditional love and warmth. I actually own a Reese’s pillow – who wouldn’t want to let their head retire on the laurel of such sweetness?
Mallomars. I’m not sure if they’re available everywhere or if they are just a NYC-area treat, but they are made by Nabisco and come in a lovely bright yellow box–a tasty marshmallow dollop on a graham cracker bottom, covered in dark chocolate. They are also only available in the fall and winter because the chocolate shell melts in the summer heat. My grandmother kept them in the refrigerator at her house in Brooklyn and would stock up on them for my grandfather, who ate them all the time. He passed away a few weeks ago and my sister told me that, a week or two after the funeral, she went to visit Nana and ate the last Mallomar in honor of Poppi. Whenever I see a Mallomar, I will always think of him.
Jen – I totally get this. Actually, very recently I myself had a good, if unexpected, cry over a mug of Cream of Wheat. Growing up, I spent a lot of time living with my grandparents, and my Papa always made us homemade Cream of Wheat for breakfast. He told us it was a wholesome breakfast, and that it would “stick to our ribs” (this sounded silly to me at the time). Papa passed away almost two years ago, but whenever I make myself this breakfast I think about him and all of the moments we shared in his kitchen. Since realizing this unbreakable connection with my youth, I’ve saved a special spot for Cream of Wheat in my heart, in my desk drawer, and my cabinets at home.
What’s interesting is that I feel like a lot of these ties and memories are evoked by food products. It makes me wonder if there’s something special about nutrition – especially as a child – and your parents or grandparents as the ones who are providing these options for you. Perhaps we unconsciously tie these brands/products with the notion that, “if Mom chose it for me, it must be good.” (Since we all know our parents want the best for us!)
It seems like I have tapped into something unexpected, but I love it!
My emotional connection was really less about McDonald’s and more about the strong memories that food and meals can evoke. These stories of food love are great and you all write with such passion I don’t know if I should cry or eat!
Food definitely does it for me too but it’s more the home cooked stuff that brings me back rather than a specific brand. Specifics scents however can always stir up some great memories. I know a lot of people feel this way about their mother’s perfumes or some cleaning products but for me it’s sunscreen. Coppertone is absolutely my most nostalgic brand. It reminds me of being poolside during the summer at my grandmother’s house. The smell alone brings back vivd memories of me and my floaties in a little ruffled bathing suit with my proud Grammie looking on as I show her for the 23rd time how “I am a big girl and can jump in the deep end”!
Recently I found an off-season source for this nostalgic scent. Yankee Candle makes a scent called Sun & Sand…it’s a close second to the original scent. Part of me wonders if this was an intentional move on Yankee Candle’s part. It is my official scent of summer at home and I’ll admit that every now and again during the winter I light a votive or two just to breathe in some sweet summer memories.
Jen, I really enjoyed your post. This probably sounds odd but it’s generic brands that evoke a reaction in me. Not necessarily pure joy or nostalgia, like some of the examples in this thread, but something a bit more complex… a weird blend of nostalgia, comfort, happiness and even some melancholy. I hated generics as a kid (think coke that never quite tasted like Coke) but for me they also spark memories of a simpler and maybe humbler time…