A sachet economy
Published Nov 26, 2022 12:05 am
MEDIUM RARE
Jullie Y. Daza
A colleague used to call it a “pay day economy” because no one pulled out bills from their wallet until the day after the 15th and 30th of the month to pay for rent, food, utilities and other obligations. They couldn’t plan on going on a movie date or to the supermarket ‘til after pay day.
Now it’s a sachet economy. Based on what a Publicus consumer survey revealed and your own observations and those of Marites and Co., no commerce, no trading, no buy-and-sell can happen in our society without those tiny sachets that contain the most essential mass-consumer goods needed daily by all genders.
According to the survey, more Filipinos now buy from a sari-sari store. Without scientific data to go by, it’s easy to guess why. The little store next door or farther down the street is within walking distance, ergo no need to spend money for fuel or fare. The little store shields the buyer from impulse buying; sticking to a short shopping list is easier to do than resisting temptation. The lonely “tindera” behind the wire screen –yes, it makes her look like she’s in a cage, but that’s to protect her from holdups and pilferers – she’s usually a friendly type, once you’ve become a “suki” (regular customer).
The sari-sari economy runs on small change. For low-income earners, one stick of cigarette, imported (Marlboro, for example), costs P9, an amount easier to pay than the P165 for 20 sticks, one pack. Construction workers, security guards, and family drivers choose to buy their deodorant in a sachet (P10), the same way their wives prefer to buy shampoo in a sachet (P8) “because there’s enough to squeeze out for three applications, a real bargain.”
Other stuff that comes in sachets: Tide, Surf, or Champion (P17); Colgate (P13); Kopiko (P17, twin pack); Downy (P8); Milo (P8); Off (P14); Nescafe (P17). It’s so cute that the tinderas refer to the products by their brand names – the power of advertising! Only the matches (P5 a box) escaped their brand consciousness.
On the downside, where does a sachet economy leave us but a reputation as the world’s top plastic polluter? Convenient for Juan and Juana, yes – how about their children and grandchildren, the planet?
Jullie Y. Daza
A colleague used to call it a “pay day economy” because no one pulled out bills from their wallet until the day after the 15th and 30th of the month to pay for rent, food, utilities and other obligations. They couldn’t plan on going on a movie date or to the supermarket ‘til after pay day.
Now it’s a sachet economy. Based on what a Publicus consumer survey revealed and your own observations and those of Marites and Co., no commerce, no trading, no buy-and-sell can happen in our society without those tiny sachets that contain the most essential mass-consumer goods needed daily by all genders.
According to the survey, more Filipinos now buy from a sari-sari store. Without scientific data to go by, it’s easy to guess why. The little store next door or farther down the street is within walking distance, ergo no need to spend money for fuel or fare. The little store shields the buyer from impulse buying; sticking to a short shopping list is easier to do than resisting temptation. The lonely “tindera” behind the wire screen –yes, it makes her look like she’s in a cage, but that’s to protect her from holdups and pilferers – she’s usually a friendly type, once you’ve become a “suki” (regular customer).
The sari-sari economy runs on small change. For low-income earners, one stick of cigarette, imported (Marlboro, for example), costs P9, an amount easier to pay than the P165 for 20 sticks, one pack. Construction workers, security guards, and family drivers choose to buy their deodorant in a sachet (P10), the same way their wives prefer to buy shampoo in a sachet (P8) “because there’s enough to squeeze out for three applications, a real bargain.”
Other stuff that comes in sachets: Tide, Surf, or Champion (P17); Colgate (P13); Kopiko (P17, twin pack); Downy (P8); Milo (P8); Off (P14); Nescafe (P17). It’s so cute that the tinderas refer to the products by their brand names – the power of advertising! Only the matches (P5 a box) escaped their brand consciousness.
On the downside, where does a sachet economy leave us but a reputation as the world’s top plastic polluter? Convenient for Juan and Juana, yes – how about their children and grandchildren, the planet?