Honestly, I’m not very brand loyal.
I’m loyal to my wallet.
If the off-brand version saves money and doesn’t taste like cardboard, regret, or a science experiment gone wrong, I’m usually fine with it. Generic drinks? Sure. Off-brand coffee? Absolutely. Bargain TVs? Bring it on. If the picture moves and the people’s faces don’t look like melted crayons, I’m good.
A lot of brand loyalty feels like permission to spend crap-tons of money on something only slightly better. Not always, of course. There are exceptions.
Cars, for instance. I can’t imagine buying a bargain car. I like my Honda, and I’ve enjoyed it enough that when I eventually trade this one in, I’ll probably stick with Honda. That’s not so much brand loyalty as it is not wanting my vehicle to make mysterious noises and leave me praying in the emergency lane.
Coke is another exception.
If I’m at a soda fountain and they have both Coke and Pepsi, it will always be Coke. More specifically, Coke Zero. I don’t need the sugar, but I do need civilization. Honestly, if Pepsi is the only option, I start weighing whether I’m actually thirsty enough to compromise my principles.
But shoes? I’ve bought Walmart’s house brand.
TVs? Walmart bargain specials.
Cheese? Frozen vegetables? Crackers? Paper towels? Cereal? Unless the generic version is actively plotting against me, I’m probably choosing it.
I’m not saying brands don’t matter. Some brands earn loyalty by being consistently good. But a lot of the time, I’m not looking for status. I’m looking for decent quality, reasonable price, and the sweet feeling of knowing I didn’t pay extra just because the box had a fancier logo.
So my favorite brand?
Whatever works, costs less, and doesn’t make me regret my life choices.
Except Pepsi.
There are limits.
Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.
