Is Your Brand Spicy?
This isn’t about chili oil. It’s about branding that bites back.
This morning, I ordered shakshuka for breakfast, assuming it’d be mild and mellow. Instead, it’s slowly burning the outline of my lips like a delayed reaction from a bad idea. And honestly, I don’t know if I loved it or regretted it.
I’m not especially a fan of spicy. But every time I get a dish like this (usually by accident/either I miss the chili icon or overestimate my menu-reading skills), I’m reminded that spice is a very specific sensation.
It’s not just flavour, it’s tension.
It’s something that persists.
It says: pay attention.
In hospitality, spice isn’t just about chili oil or pepper flakes. It’s an attitude. A sharp edge. It’s the kind of thing that starts a conversation or shuts one down. The bold choice that isn’t for everyone. And that’s exactly the point.
So here’s the real question:
Is your brand spicy?
I know what you’re thinking: I’m not a Mexican restaurant. I don’t sell chili sauce. There’s nothing red-hot in my branding, and flame graphics? Hard pass. That’s the easy definition of spicy. But it’s not what I’m talking about today. I’m talking about branding with presence. Bite. Something that doesn’t play it safe. Maybe it polarizes. Maybe it speaks louder than expected. But it never blends in.
In hospitality, “spicy” shows up in all kinds of ways: The unexpected playlist in a quiet dining room. A bold uniform choice. A no-substitutions policy on the menu. A design moment that dares to offend your great-aunt.
In branding? It’s a font that raises an eyebrow. A tagline with tension. A photograph that’s just a little too daring. A name that isn’t polite. & more.
It’s the part of your concept that makes people feel something even if they don’t know why.
Here are a few “spicy brands” I love (zero hot sauce involved).
Motel Mexicola
You don’t walk into Motel Mexicola, you get swallowed whole. Neon lights, table-dancing waiters, and tequila before you’re seated. It’s chaotic, theatrical, and unforgettable hospitality with zero restraint.
Liquid Death
It’s water, but it looks like it belongs on a heavy metal album cover. Tallboy cans. Gothic lettering. A mission to “murder your thirst.” It’s aggressive, ridiculous, and genius. Where most water brands whisper about purity, Liquid Death screams personality. You don’t forget it, even if you never crack a can.
Omsom
Bold Asian flavors in packaging that shouts. The box looks like a riot of neon and nostalgia, all caps, zero chill. No muted tones, no cultural dilution, just spice, pride, and unapologetic presence.
Hotel Amour
It’s a hotel, but make it NSFW. Erotic photography, suggestive furniture, and a Supérieure Room designed for mischief. Hotel Amour doesn’t whisper romance, it stares you down and dares you to flirt back.
Public Hotel
Luxury for all; but with an edge. A glowing red escalator, brutalist architecture, and copy that cuts like a knife. Even the key cards say: “We’re not for everyone. Just the right ones.”
Mary’s Newtown
Graffiti bathrooms. Loud punk music. Burgers that don’t apologise. The signage reads “No dickheads,” and their Instagram says, “Fuck coffee.” It’s the kind of brand that couldn’t care less if your mum approves and that’s exactly why it works. (look at their insta handle!)
No Normal Coffee
Coffee in a toothpaste tube, yes, seriously. The design is stark, minimal, and anti-aesthetic on purpose. It’s branding that flips the “coffee ritual” into a dare.
Figlio Bastardo
The name means “Bastard Son” and the branding wears it proudly. Think Catholic kitsch, altar-boy sketches, and packaging that feels half punk zine, half old-school deli. It’s irreverent, layered, and impossible to ignore.
Engine Gin
Looks like motor oil, drinks like top-shelf gin. The can design is loud, mechanical, and weirdly collectible, chrome typography meets racing stripes. It’s branding that shifts gin from dainty to dangerous.
These brands make you feel something.
That’s the burn. That’s the point.
So next time you’re building a concept, ask yourself:
– Where does the brand take a risk and mean it?
– What’s the detail that divides the room and makes it memorable?
– What’s the tension point that leaves a lasting impression?
Just like spice, you don’t need a lot.
But you need enough for someone to remember it.
Bon Appetit, À bientôt!
Mary