My Weird Friends Around the Brand Campfire

I can recognise Ronald McDonald, the Green Giant, the Michelin Man and Colonel Sanders in a moment. I do not have a photographic memory. These characters have simply occupied a surprising amount of space in it.

They are more than identifying marks to me. They carry a bundle of feelings and associations: a childhood meal, a reassuring shape, a familiar voice or a promise about what a product is meant to do. Sometimes they even become shorthand in ordinary conversation. A bulky jacket can make someone feel like the Michelin Man without a tyre being anywhere in sight.

That is what fascinates me about brand characters. A repeated visual cue can become part of someone’s personal vocabulary. The company creates it, but the audience keeps giving it meanings the company does not fully control.

Those meanings can change. A character associated with happy memories may become more complicated as our views, tastes or experiences develop. Familiarity is powerful, but it is not immunity from disappointment.

Does every brand need a mascot? I do not think so. The useful question is whether a character can express something distinctive and carry it consistently across the experience. A decorative face without a clear role may add noise rather than connection.

I would therefore judge an icon by the experience around it. Does the service reinforce the promise? Do customers’ stories fit the character’s intended role? Recognition is only the beginning; what people feel when they recognise it is the more interesting question.

The best-known icons can feel like a group of strange old friends around a campfire. We recognise them instantly, tell stories about them and sometimes decide that one of them is no longer invited to dinner.