Jägermeister The marketing of Jägermeister is the stuff of legend. It has transformed an unknown, vaguely medicinal drink with an uncertain and slightly sinister past into a best-seller – synonymous with music, youth, sport and hedonism. The late marketing genius Sidney Frank is the man to take most credit for this. His techniques are widely studied, but he started with a simple premise. He simply described it as ‘the best drink in the world’.
Like Danny DeVito, Jägermeister demonstrates that popularity need not depend on either stature or beauty. Its packaging is a car-crash of an oldschool Gothic logo-type atop a blaze of bright orange on a scrum-hooker bottle, but it oozes authenticity and power. Perhaps Jägermeister is so kitsch it’s cool? Among more sophisticated peers it is certainly something of an iconoclast, but its butch name and packaging bestow it with a character the logic of group discussion would never predict. Logic be damned. Brands accrue meaning from use, not the other way around. Younger drinkers will frequently make traditional brands contemporary by bending them to their cause. The now ubiquitous Jägerbomb could be put down to a lucky bounce – like cider over ice. The idea was adopted and disseminated by cutting-edge consumers and bartenders. 12
We should, however, recognise that the initially unappealing package was imbued with charisma by the innovative marketing of wily distributors Sidney Frank Importing. Godfather to many a premium drink, including Grey Goose, they fuelled Jägermeister’s export growth by first introducing it to US drinkers with a squad of shapely ambassadors in the on-trade. Jägermeister’s now triumphant place near the top of the global spirits sector is testimony to how distinctive design, if given the time to wear in, provides enduring gain. AK