a color story: flower seed packaging

minimal seed packaging aesthetics impressions

My brother-in-law brought a box of seeds. He mentioned that he had a variety of tomatoes, not of the heirloom varieties. But, they weren't your average local grocery store tomatoes. To be honest, I wouldn't know. Tomato, tomatoe. Tomato, tomatoe. They were all the same to me.

 

I, too, collected seeds of the flower varieties. From hostas to zinnias, I stored mine in small spice jars and had my collection going. I started this good practice just the previous fall. But, I started with purchasing flower seeds - we all have to start from somewhere.

I had vegetable seeds but never planted them; they didn't meet my aesthetic needs. On the contrary, my brother-in-laws seeds only consisted of vegetables. I understood that he enjoyed growing things that he could eat. I assumed the return on investment with tomato seeds yielded the most for his plant growing experience. 

 

Anyways, he opened the box and my eyes met aesthetic compliance with the tomato seeds packaging. Who knew "report card" envelope brown could look so good under the context of seeds? ( Let's face it; nobody enjoyed revealing their report cards to their parents)

 

My plant seeds journey started from a fundamental financial problem - purchasing expensive nursery plants. One could easily spend over $100 in a short visit. My "hack" was growing my desired plants starting from seed. At my local Dollar Tree, I saw a variety of flower seeds at the price point of "4 for $1.25". When I discovered that the seeds worked and it wasn't a sham, I recalled purchasing 200 packets. The return of aesthetic investment was pretty high for such a low barrier of entry item. One packet could grow to 100 flowers - only if you watered on a schedule and grew them under seed starting soil.  Looking back, the catch was the soil; those would always add up your costs. 

 

My initial reasoning for suspecting a possible "sham" with the dollar tree flower seeds was the packaging. The background was in a light green/teal hue with an "outdated" picture of the flower - something eerie and uncredited vibe came with the packaging aesthetics. The packaging, however, underdelivered on the final results with the blooming flowers. One shouldn't judge a book by its cover - an old cliché that came long with humble pie. 

 

Then, I invested into McKenzie Seeds which were almost 10 times the dollar tree variety price. On average the packets costed $2.99 but in return, they also sold uncommon ornamental flowers. I tried growing the ornamental bunnytail grass but I germinated the seeds too early. They grew too quickly and got too "leggy". I believed it was a mistake on my part. Like the dollar tree packaging, McKenzie used a tacky color as the background and the ideal plant photo. McKenzie used a warm pink for their ornamental plants and another color for their flower series. I planted a variety of hollyhocks outside in deep cubed trays - hoping for better luck on this batch. 

 

The minimal brown packet felt honest. 

 

So when I saw the tomato seeds in a simple brown envelop with some black design prints, it felt refreshing. In a weird way, I knew what kind of person would want to grow the seeds. An entry level grower wouldn't bother - the high price points just for seeds would be too much of a entry to barrier. I assumed that the price wasn't cheap - premium was screaming all over this packet. Organic certified, locally sourced, a specific type of tomato, custom handmade typography designs and the detailed growing  instructions that completely filled the packet's back alluded to a sophisticated crowd of plant growers.

 

But, the best design attribute on the packet was the absence of the final picture/product. With the minimal design choice, the packet already underdelivered its promise. As an "experienced seed grower", I was hooked. The minimal brown packet felt honest.  I had the urge to plant them. I wanted to know what the "blah blah blah" tomato looked like or the "blah blah blah" peppers resulted in. 

 

The minimal aesthetics to the seed packaging alluded to my imaginary senses.

 

I felt like the person who designed the seed packets was a grower themselves and not an over-managed, paper-pushing corporation.  The seed harvester probably went through the entire seed to plant process themselves - soil, seed, fertilize, water,  germinate, water, bloom. At least for me, the best part of the process was in the anticipation of witnessing life appear out of the brown soil.  The focus on the brown envelope highlighted the special feeling of growing a plant from seed. Even though I never tested their product yet, I felt like I was in good hands. 

 

I planned for my next gardening session. I found premium potting mix in my bathroom cabinet. Yeah, my bathroom cabinet under the sink had premium potting mix. Bougie must meet with bougie - premium soil for premium seeds. The minimal aesthetics to the seed packaging alluded to my imaginary senses.