Colour: The Language of Crisps

Cheese and Onion: Blue or Green?

Take a quick meander through any supermarket or corner shop, and you’re bound to encounter the crisp aisle. Rows upon rows of packets all compete for the shopper’s attention, and nothing is as effective at grabbing attention than colour. The crisp aisle is perhaps more aptly described as a polychromatic utopia for the junk food aficionado — from scarlet to maroon, aqua to ultramarine, emerald to dark green, you can find almost any colour of crisp packet. Of course, the same is arguably true for any commercialised food; the chocolate and sweet aisle is equally as varicoloured. Yet, when it comes to crisps, colour is especially important, and even disputed — the polychromatic utopia is no stranger to the battles of public opinion.

In 2016, a YouGov survey found that 44 per cent of people associated the cheese and onion flavour with a green packet. Yet, curiously, Walkers, the leading UK crisp brand, uses blue, though only 30 per cent agreed with such a colouration. The exact reasoning behind this has already been covered by Chris Spargo in a humorous YouTube video that I highly recommend. In short, before Walkers dominated the crisp market, Golden Wonder was the prime choice for anyone craving crisps. However, through industrial strikes, factory fires, and increasing competition, the latter gradually faded in popularity. They did not fade into partial obscurity without leaving their mark, however, for they used green packets to signify cheese and onion, and blue for salt and vinegar. Thus, these two colour associations have been ingrained into British consumer consciousness, leading to many (falsely) claiming that Walkers switched their own colours around.

One can see why many associate green with cheese and onion rather than salt and vinegar. Green is much more of an earthy, agricultural colour that one would associate with the humble onion. Blue, on the other hand, is evocative of the sea, and therefore sea salt. Even so, there’s a certain sense of sourness that green evokes, perhaps linked somehow to our associations of envy with the colour, or else simply due to the taste of limes. Though people online may continue to insist that Walkers changed their packaging, there doesn’t seem to be much reason for why they’d do this. It appears much more likely that Walkers is simply banking on these alternative associations of green, or perhaps they used the colour to distinguish themselves from Golden Wonder.

But what about other colours? Red is almost universally representative of ready salted. As a basic primary colour, it seems fitting to apply to the most basic flavour. Furthermore, red proves to be an intensive colour, grabbing attention. Red is so intensive, in fact, that it has subsumed vast swathes of the food industry, as seen with Coca-Cola, McDonalds, and KFC. The crisp aisle gives no respite from the tsunami of red that cascades across our food advertisement. Sometimes, colours simply match their respective flavours. Prawn flavours, for instance, are marked by pink packets. Yellow often (but not always) reflects cheese. 

Does this even matter? Charles Spence, experimental psychologist at the University of Oxford, has done much work on how colours influence our tastes. He has stated that “subjects will taste the colour of the crisp packet, not the crisp itself”. The vivid pinkness of prawn cocktail packets, for instance, enhances our experience of flavour. Additionally, the fierceness with which consumers debate which flavour should be which colour is a testament to how our culture can enthral us. Things as simple as packet colours can be powerful psychological enchantments, much more influential than the packet’s writing. The mere crisp packet has forged an alternative history in the minds of many, contrary to the apparent truth. The mere crisp packet has changed how we perceive and taste. The mere crisp packet bends us to its will. 

Illustration by Sandra Palazuelos Garcia