It’s as if Nike invented a new condiment.
Raise your hand if you associate mayonnaise with footwear. Anybody? Me neither. But on Monday, a PR pitch landed in my inbox: “Hellmann’s Canada steps into the world of sneakers with shoes made with food waste.”
Big Mayo may be employing psychics and precogs. Because I read that subject line and thought … a mayonnaise brand is getting into footwear? The second sentence in the press release read my mind and answered: “That’s right, Canada’s #1 mayonnaise brand has stepped into the shoe world, launching a new limited-edition sneaker.”
What’s next? Will Grey Poupon get into pantaloons?
The new shoes, 1352: Refreshed Sneakers, are not named for the year 1352. Or there’d be a Byzantine Civil War insignia. The name comes from $1,352 — which is what “the average Canadian household wastes in food each year.”
That seems high. Then again, with inflation, you could probably get close to it with two discarded cartons of eggs, a mouldy cheddar and one expired shrimp ring. As Harsh Pant, a senior brand manager, noted: “Hellmann’s has a long-standing history of taking the necessary steps to address, raise awareness and reduce food waste.”
As an aside, isn’t Harsh Pant a cool name in a story about mayo shoes? It’s as if there was a company that weaponized flowers and the VP of marketing was Breezy Petunia.
So, first, kudos to Hellmann’s for raising awareness about food waste. And a tip of my wasabi cap to Hellmann’s for supporting Second Harvest and vowing to make a $25,000 donation. This is a noble mission. This is a company trying to do right by the community.
But I don’t know anyone who will spend $1,352 on mayo shoes.
I get the symbolic message. But the price-point logic is not shelf stable. You can buy three pairs of Donald Trump’s tacky gold high-tops for the same amount of money and he’s a con man? Can’t there be an inexpensive version, like a 1352: Refreshed Sneakers Lite?
My wife is an environmentalist. Sometimes she walks by the living room and turns off the light as I’m sitting on the couch and reading. You should see her sort recycling. It’s like watching Oppenheimer carefully tinker with the atomic bomb. Even still, if I told her I dropped $1,352 on sneakers made out of corn, mushrooms, apples and grapes, she’d pelt me with rotten tomatoes. And then strap banana peels to my feet.
Hellmann’s is hawking limited-edition kicks to remind us about how much food we waste. Good. But shoes don’t cost that much — especially ones that resemble a jar of mayonnaise. I bought white runners so I could sashay around France this summer.
I forked out less than 60 bucks to Under Armour. But if there’s a natural disaster neither the 1352: Refreshed Sneakers or Under Armour can be eaten.
Anyone who can drop a grand-plus on footwear is probably not someone who thinks twice about waste. The rich don’t ask for doggy bags at restaurants. They don’t do leftovers.
Many moons ago, I attended a pre-wedding party for a friend. The host was a lovely woman who lived in a glam mansion in Rosedale. The event was catered. There was more food than at a Mandarin. At the end of the night, the host started cleaning up and casually dumped trays of untouched appetizers into the garburator. I was gobsmacked.
Hellmann’s Canada is right to challenge Canadians to “rethink their consumption.” I’m just not sure conspicuous sneaker consumption achieves this corporate goal. I once read the average Canadian spends $2,000 a year on gas. While this is not great for the environment, not much would be gained if Esso started selling $2,000 hoodies.
Instead of hawking sneakers that cost more than Air Jordans, Hellmann’s should team up with other food companies and invest in sector R&D on waste reduction. I’d start with expiration dates. How accurate are these calendar red flags? Instead of abiding by the date stamped on a carton of half-and-half, shouldn’t I keep pouring it into my morning coffee until it smells like an unwashed Kardashian armpit or is given to instant curdling?
In parts of the world where food insecurity is rampant, there are no expiration dates. You eat whatever you are lucky enough to get. Meanwhile, in Canada, we chuck out perfectly fine pantry items as soon as they hit the best before dates?
It’s nuts. In 100 years, if an archeologist dug up an unopened tin of Spam and ate it for lunch, he’d suffer no health consequences except sudden drowsiness.
Do we need to cut down on food waste? Absolutely.
But to this end, pricey sneakers seem like jogging on the spot.
