Recently, the PepsiCo CEO needled feminists into squawking indignation at the horror of the snack being marketed differently for women than for men.
In an interview with Freakonomics Radio, Indra Nooyi suggested that a low-crunch, less-dusty and a more purse-friendly size of the popular corn chip could be handy for women.
How demeaning! How patronising! More importantly, what would it do to the sisterhood if there was an alternative to women noisily shovelling corn chips into their mouths like warthogs slavering at the annual picnic.
The backlash triggered an immediate response from PepsiCo, calming the fiery frenzy with assurances that Doritos would not be producing the female-friendly product.
“We already have Doritos for women – they’re called Doritos,” the spokesperson added helpfully.
But let’s remove the gender/equality/ideological/hysteria for just one moment and consider this from a business perspective. From Nooyi’s perspective. Let’s face it, she’s not consistently ranked among the World’s 100 Most Powerful Women for her ability to scoff down corn chips with the boys.
What if Nooyi was onto something? What if, stay with me, there was a gap in the market for women who love Doritos but don’t buy them because they’re too loud and messy to eat?
What if Nooyi was on to something? What if, stay with me, there was a gap in the market for women who love Doritos but don’t buy them because they’re too loud and messy to eat?
What if a female CEO shooting between meetings wants to chow down on her favourite snack discreetly in the back of the car. A snack which has all the flavours she craved but doesn’t leave sticky orange dust on her fingers, nor her clothes, and the pack fits neatly into her handbag, rather than requiring its own portmanteau?
What if… your driver suffers from misophonia, sound-rage associated with eating or chewing?
Okay, that’s maybe taking it a bit too far, but you get my drift.
Maybe there is a need to satisfy the hankering for more delicate Doritos by some devotees.
Where’s the problem?
I admit I’m not one to devour Doritos very delicately.
I’ve been known, particularly after a few wines, to hoe into the snack as voraciously as a Labrador wolfing a stolen sausage at a barbie.
I eat Doritos like no-one is watching. And it’s great. Very satisfying.
But then I don’t wear designer suits and sit in luxury cars like Nooyi and her female friends and colleagues do.
I’m a more wipe-my-sticky-fingers-on-my-jeans kind of girl.
They’re not. There are times when more delicacy is required. It’s as simple as that.
Is it a female thing? Probably. Is it something I worry will undermine our quest for equality? Nup.
Pass ’em around, I say. We’ll even share them with the blokes.
