Why is sugarfina so expensive

Umika Kumar

Professor Lydia Hearn

English Writing 2

8 July 2016

Guilt-Free Femininity For Sale

It is impossible to buy femininity or bottle the essence of womanhood. Or is it? Since the

dawn of marketing, salespeople have sold items not with the physical product that sits on the

shelf of a store, but for the intangible ideal behind it. Cars are not just vehicles that move us from

point A to point B, but expressions of individuality and affluence. Perfumes are not just scents,

but stand for effusiveness, submissive action, bold sexuality, or a combination of those aspects.

No longer can we buy a product and be done with it—we must consider what this product is

saying about who we are. Food, though previously unaffiliated with this value judgement craze,

is quickly becoming another means through which we define ourselves. Candy is a perfect

example. Considering mainstream sweets, the candies’ packaging itself can be seen as garish and

bumbling; these products crinkle clamorously when opened and this very sound can be

reminiscent of uncouth masses encroaching on a public space. Candy bars or candies in general

are, thus, surreptitious treats; the consumer of these desserts seems to be just as offputting as the

item itself, particularly in a world that values thin, perfect women. But imagine if candy were to

be feminine, refined even—imagine if there were a candy experience for the modern woman.

Imagine if there were a haven of delicate candies made from the finest ingredients, with servers

waiting on customers hand and foot. A former Barbie executive well-versed in modern symbols

of femininity found the perfect gap in the market, and thus started Sugarfina luxury candy

boutiques. Sugarfina stores take candy from a clandestine pleasure to a refined, intrinsically

feminine experience for women of distinction.

Sugarfina locations deliberately attract wealthier women, thus upholding the idea that

Sugarfina is for women of distinction and attracting women of all classes to shop there despite

the cost. For example, their San José store sits in the middle of Santana Row, an upscale outdoor

shopping area. There is no overt restriction as to who can visit Santana Row, but because of how

expensive it tends to be, the concentration of wealthy individuals is much higher. The location

predetermines the clientele. However, if a middle-class woman were to shop there, she would be

in the presence of many wealthier women, with no way for an outsider to determine the

difference. This middle-class woman is now associated with the upper-class women—her status

is elevated and she belongs in this world. The atmosphere that is created by the upper-class

shoppers adds to the appeal of Sugarfina, and with no added cost to the company itself! This

subtle branding ploy leaves customers with the idea that they, too, can be as classy and refined as

the upper class if they choose to shop at Sugarfina. However, the location is the smallest of

points that helps contribute to the appeal of Sugarfina as a whole.

The Sugarfina storefront exudes elegance, which reinforces the idea that it is a store for

refined women. Elegance is generally a signifier associated with wealth and good breeding. Loud

colors and garishness, such as those displayed in ordinary candy, tend to be associated with the

lower- or middle-class. Sugarfina makes a deliberate use of muted colors and organized display

to prove its elegance. Its candy is packaged in clear squares, so the shelves are visually pleasing

in their clean-cut lines and bursts of color. Its wares are displayed in a meticulously organized

manner, with soft blue-colored placards featuring detailed descriptions of each item. Nothing is

even a hair out of place. This perfection is reminiscent of a Pottery Barn catalog at all times, and

in stark contrast to the haggard interior of a post-sale Ikea or Walmart. The designers even play

off of other iconic brands to increase their own brand’s legitimacy. Its brand color, for example,

is strikingly similar to Tiffany and Co.’s “Tiffany blue.” Tiffany and Co. is an iconic jewelry

brand, notorious for exorbitant prices and permeating popular culture. The use of a color so

similar is another message to imply wealth and legacy—for women of distinction are not just

rich, they are sophisticated, harmonious, ideal. Even its candy features muted colors: bubbly

pinks, sage greens, and peach sherbert orange. None of its colors would ever be found in an

M&M package (or vice versa). But Sugarfina does not only employ organization and color

schemes as tactics: it manages other aspects of brand image as well.

Sugarfina uses deliberate details and eloquent language to further emphasize its refined

image. These vocabulary choices permeate the establishment from the writing on the wall to

their salespeople, or “candy ambassadors.” When you enter the store, the large Sugarfina logo

greets you, hanging unassumingly on the wall behind the counter. The font of the word Sugarfina

itself is a version of Garamond, a font that looks old-fashioned yet delicate. The word Sugarfina,

written in white, sits on a soft blue colored and ornate shape, with intricate work on the edges.

Aside from this, all the signs on the walls are pasted directly on with gold foil, as if painted

directly onto the wall. One sign details how to create your own “candy bento box.” Another

phrase is simply, “Hello, sugar!” This bright and cheerful phrase sits squarely in the upper-class

world of the 1930s, something only a waitress at a quaint diner would exclaim in the modern

age. The font of these signs is different than the Sugarfina logo: it is a sans rather than a sans

serif, and its rounded edges look both modern and youthful. The deliberate use of both

subcategories of font is interesting, because each implies something completely different to the

customer. But together, the legacy and historical elements of the Sugarfina logo and the youthful

fun of the signs on the wall create an ideal for the modern woman: she is sophisticated and

grounded in her past, yet light and free to bound towards her future. All of this works to promote

the ideal of the Sugarfina woman.

Sugarfina shifts the experience of enjoying candy from clandestine to jubilant, from a

questionable desire to perfectly allowed. In opposition to candy being connected with shame,

Sugarfina builds itself up as prideful and jubilant. When a patron enters the store, they are made

to feel as welcome, honored guests. They are greeted at the front by one of the two button-down-

clad “candy ambassadors” with a smile and the sample of the day, served with miniature tongs

into a miniature napkin. Nothing about the experience is forbidden or secretive, nor is it loud and

overwhelming. The salespeople are ambassadors—the very job of an ambassador is to represent

its organization to the public. All of its elements of elegance come together to tell the consumer:

“there is no shame in Sugarfina; this is a lovely, happy place.” The use of the color white from

floor to ceiling inside the store further implies its purity or cleanliness. Especially in an age

where the dominant rhetoric surrounding food lauds “eating clean,” the color white serves its

purpose in spades. The customer feels as if he or she is entering a pure and clean zone, thus

subliminally reducing the stress that would normally be induced through eating candy, an

“impure and unclean” food. If there were any doubt about the contents of the sweets, however,

any customer can be assured that only the finest ingredients are used. Their candies range from

Peach Bellini gummies to 24K gold champagne marshmallows and their champagne bears are

made with Dom Pérignon (an incredibly expensive champagne from France). The placard next to

the baby champagne bears explains that these pink and soft yellow gummy bears are flavored

with rosé and brut champagne, respectively. These details elevate the brand.

Sugarfina uses deliberate language, visual elements like organization and color, and

location to craft the image of refined perfection. All of these components serve as the antithesis

to places like Baskin Robbins and brand names like M&M or Butterfinger; Sugarfina is subtle

and soft where its mainstream competitors are loud. In branding itself as refined, Sugarfina strips

from candy the guilt that is normally associated with indulgence. At $8.50 for a box containing

3.9 ounces of candy, this brand utilizes all branding elements to perfection. Sugarfina easily

creates a haven for femininity and an experience of the upper-class. It plays into our distinct

yearning to be rich, young, and beautiful as well as our need to belong with a group. Sugarfina

sells the idea that all women who eat Sugarfina fit into a group—women of distinction—and

strips this particular group of the guilt associated with sweet indulgences.