So the Peeled Snacks team (and our delightful coterie) made a substantial splash at this week's New York Fancy Food Show.  I've gone a bit into what that gustatory mess was all about in other blog entries, but I've yet to unveil the "why" behind the Peeled Snacks splash.

Well sure, it could be that our splash was caused by just how darn good our snacks happen to be.  Oh, and it could be that everybody at the show turned their heads thanks to our snazzy packaging (in 2006, you too can use the word "snazzy").  And of course it could be Oprah's face, beaming out from posters festooned around our exhibit booth- after all, EVERYbody loves Oprah.

But none of those splashy things made as much of an impression as the silly, sexy T-shirts that we wore.  Our team wandered around the show wearing fitted  baseball T-shirts that said "Peel Me."  The back shows our hip little demonstration of the "Peel, Mix, & Enjoy" method of eating Peeled Snacks, and it sure looks good.

But "Peel Me"?  Heads turned everywhere we went.  It's a simple innuendo, really, and could easily be dismissed as propaganda from the powerful Idaho Potato lobby.  But when smeared across one of our intern's chests, or festooned upon our most excellently sexy president (I can say that because I married her), it becomes a dangerous guerilla marketing weapon of head turning, giggle-inducing shock and awe.

Some reactions: when walking through midtown Manhattan, one wearer passed a gentlemen who made a distinct "Peeling" gesture in her direction, accompanied by a sort of whipping sound...

While hanging out at our booth, another wearer was approached by a fellow conventioneer who inquired, "well where do you want me to start peeling?"

During a particularly busy rush, a woman approached me and asked, "Is what's underneath edible?"

Of course those are particularly gratuitous examples.  Most people just blushed, or asked what the heck the "Peel Me" was all about.  One way or another, those shirts made many a ripple, and our booth was hounded by inquirers lured out by six powerful, naughty letters.

Poem for the day:

I just need to say

I left my peeler at home.

May I use my teeth?

Do what the shirt says

And you'll wind up arrested.

Where's the fun in that?!?! 

-en