These are all ideas you might come up with if you and your best friend were asked to run a marketing campaign after a few too many drinks.
If you heard 10 years ago that something called Liquid Death was worth $700 million, chances are it was rebranded under one of Michelle Obama's initiatives to promote healthy eating and honest food labels. You'd think it would be Four Loko. And if you made a bet on whether a drink with that name would be successful, and the loser had to drink whatever it was in 10 years, you'd probably take me on that.
The good news for you is that you'll be drinking water today.
This beverage brand's unlikely success is thanks to one man's vision of what is and isn't a gimmick, and his team's ability to capitalize on what appeals to young people.
That man is Mike Cesario, a designer and head of marketing. In 2017, Cessario decided that water, the core element of all life, needed an edgy rebrand. That rebrand included the name Liquid Death, a clever nod to their slogan “Death to Plastic” (or (conveniently) related.
Cessario took issue with Liquid Death being called a “gimmick.” Because to him, at the end of the day, everything about Liquid Death is a gimmick. “Red Bull is a gimmick. It's all soda. It's the same thing that's been around forever, but they created this brand around action sports,” Cessario told Eater.
That irreverence for convention is integral to every part of Liquid Death's brand. In 2020, when hate comments about branding and marketing started pouring in, they posted some of the best and angriest comments like “Fire Your Marketing Guy,” “Dumbest Name Ever For Water,” and “Dumbest Name Ever For Water.” It was completed as a rock album called “Greatest Hates,'' which includes songs from . “This shit is pure evil.” And in 2023, he branched out into making other drinks, making lemonade and iced tea drinks and calling it the “Armless Palmer,” a nod to the classic Arnold his Palmer. I named it. But when the late golfer's estate threatened to sue, they dutifully changed the drink's name to Dead Billionaire.
And as outrageous as this all is, “Greatest Hates” and “Dead Billionaire” are perfect examples of why Liquid Death resonates so strongly. These are all ideas you might come up with if you and your best friend were asked to run a marketing campaign after a few too many drinks. Plus, we know we're being sold to, but we feel like we're not.
Millennials and G-Zers are already a broadly targeted sales demographic, making them experts at discerning sales strategies and advertising campaigns. These generations are accustomed to dysfunction, whether in the economy, government, or personal life. So we inherently become skeptical of anything that tries to tell us what it is. We don't want you to tell us anything. All you have to do is do it and we'll watch over you. If we feel the vibe, we participate. The same goes for the politicians we vote for, the brands we wear, the shows we watch, and the friends we keep. The more you talk about what's good, the more we feel there's evil lurking beneath the surface.
But then along came companies like Liquid Death, companies that marketed their vibe rather than their product. This isn't to say that Liquid Death is the water of the future or that the majority of Millennials and even his Gen Z think it's cool. Sure, I know there are a lot of people who think that's lame. Rather, Liquid Death proves that what sells in today's world is individuality.
While some may see Cessario as a shameless capitalist who priced out the basic needs of human life for a $700 million profit, many of us see his honest actions as a shameless capitalist. I can respect you. And in an age where every brand begs and pleads with us for allegiance, trying to prove why they're better, maybe the fact that Liquid Death doesn't even want to try is what made me think of it in the first place. Maybe they can trust the brand.
