Welcome to Brand Burnout’s "In the Hot Seat." In the series, I'll spotlight a product, business, concept, or in this case, a television show I love and share tangible branding lessons you can implement in your own business—no matter your size.
I, like many Millenials who came before me, was raised on cartoons. My humor and strangeness were built by Nickelodeon. My current Saturday morning routine was shaped by the Saturday morning cartoons of yesteryear. Some of these cartoons were age-appropriate, think Rocket Power, Fairly Odd Parents, and Catdog. Others were less so—The Simpsons, Futurama, and, my personal favorite, Beavis and Butthead.
What can I say? I have two older sisters and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't keep me from cramping their style and watching MTV with them after school.
And, I don't want to be one of those people, but I want to make it clear that I've been talking about Beavis and Butthead before Saturday Night Live and Ryan Gosling made it cool again. But, I'll admit, this sketch inspired me to write this article since Beavis and Butthead has entered the mainstream zeitgeist once more.
As a brand strategist, I'm always making connections between seemingly innocuous things. And, with that same spirit, I'm sharing my favorite branding lessons from Beavis and Butthead, past and present!
Know You're Not for Everyone
I would bet that some people didn't make it this far in the story because they are absolutely disgusted by Beavis and Butthead.
Some of you are probably here because you're curious about how I'm going to connect our beloved heroes to branding.
And the rest of you are here because you, like me, can't help but conjure images of a red sofa when you hear someone raspily chuckle to fill space in a conversation.
All of this is by design. When Mike Judge created Beavis and Butthead, he knew he wanted to create something that some people just wouldn't get and wouldn't like. In a New York Times interview, he shared,
When the show started, MTV was so about youth and hipness, and I was already pushing 30, living in the suburbs, had a kid. I was not a hip person at all, and I remember thinking, I’m just not going to try to make these characters hip.
Beavis and Butthead wasn't for everyone. And guess what?
Neither are you.
You're not building your brand for everyone—you're building it for people who get it, the people who want to support you, the people who want what you're selling. So don't stoop to hipness and trends—those things fade. Instead, build a brand that represents your business and what you stand for. Don't be afraid to lean into things that may make people uncomfortable, because these are the things that are going to attract the right people and repel the wrong ones.
I'm writing this story as a representation of this idea.
There's been controversy around Beavis and Butthead since it aired in 1993. Some people read the headline of this article and noped right out of here because of it. Others were curious enough to click through. And you, dear reader, are a big enough fan of Cornholio to hang with me.
You are my people and I am so glad you're here.
People Want to Know What You Think
If you've made it this far and you are still unfamiliar with the concept of Beavis and Butthead, let me explain.
*Cue LinkedIn Mansplain Voice*
The show captures the misadventures of two Texas teenagers. They shell out insults to one another like "butt munch" and chuckle at every innuendo you never knew existed. They live up to their names and are crude and pretty aimless. They're seemingly bored but feel the need to criticize what everyone else is doing. Though occasionally, when we're lucky, they touch on some serious topics and make some astute observations.
But, the highlight of the show is the seemingly most mundane part. The two buds watch television together (music videos in the early days and now YouTube videos and TikToks), commenting on the videos and the artists while sharing a little about themselves in the process.
My favorite story is the one below because honestly, my best friend and I have had the same conversation about cherries.
While watching, I find myself listening more to their thoughts than watching the videos themselves (that's all thanks to the production team, of course). But, even in the older episodes where the commentary was much more subdued, I find myself thinking "I wish they were talking more. I've already seen this video. I want to know what they think about it." I care about what they have to say. I'm invested in their stories, experiences, and opinions. And, even though the pair are oblivious assholes, I'm cheering for them.
I'm guessing you probably have opinions, too. I'm guessing (hoping?) you're not an oblivious asshole. And I'm guessing people want to hear your thoughts, just like we want to hear Butthead's favorite Mountain Dew flavor. Your opinions and thoughts are likely a little deeper than Beavis's, more empathetic than Butthead's, and people want to hear those.
Remember, people buy from people, not brands. Showcasing your opinions, hot takes, and stories will help you make more meaningful connections with your audience so they cheer you on, share your name, and buy your stuff.
It Won't be Perfect
I've been seeing a lot of buzz on LinkedIn about "The First Pancake." Call it the Baader–Meinhof phenomenon or call it virality, but I feel like everyone is talking about the fact that the first thing you do is not going to be the best thing you do.
The idea is simply this: your first pancake is ugly. Always. You've experienced it. I've experienced. You get it. But, let's narrow in with a specific example. One I'm calling "The First Butthead."
I watched Beavis and Butthead in the nineties. And then in 2022, my husband revealed to me that he'd never seen an episode of the show. I, in shock, turned on the new episodes to indulge him in my childhood and we became hooked—watching every new episode that was released and the new movie, Beavis and Butthead Do the Universe. When we ran out of new episodes, we went back to watch the old ones. We started with Season 1, Episode 2 which aired in 1993 (some episodes have been removed from streaming services due to music licenses and, I'm guessing, lack of relevance. Think: you can't do that on TV or anywhere else for that matter).
And oof—that episode was rough.
Granted, technology has changed animation and illustration, but despite that, the story was subpar and rushed. Mike Judge has openly criticized his early ideas and episodes. But, we all start somewhere.
This is also true for the Sonic reboot, where people were appalled by Sonic's initial appearance in the 2020 masterpiece (non-ironic, it's seriously great) Sonic the Movie.
The same is true for your brand.
The first rendition is not going to be the best. Your Minimum Viable Product is called minimum for a reason. Your brand should be a constant evolution of revisions and growth as you learn more about your audience, your industry changes, and technology and marketing needs shift. But, if Mike Judge hadn't created the first Butthead, we wouldn't have cinematic classics such as Beavis and Butthead Do America or Beavis and Butthead Do the Universe. King of the Hill and Daria would cease to exist. The first Butthead crawled so Daria could walk. Daria walked so Hank Hill could run. And the first pancake looked like garbage so the last pancake could look impeccable on top of the stack.
Make the first pancake. Make the first Butthead. Whatever you want to call it, just go build your brand.
My favorite moment was when Butthead was being yelled at by the gym teacher.
“Butthead! Why did you not try to save your friend?”
“Uhhh,” said Butthead, “I was dead.”