Stuck at a bus stop a few weeks ago, an empty, discarded 500ml bottle of Nestle Pure Life water caught my eye. With little else to do, I read the fine print on the label. Source: public water supply, Florida. Curses! That was my idea. You see, whenever I pay $3.50 for a small bottle of water a small part inside of me dies. A few years ago I had the genius idea to start a company selling bottled water with a low-budget label proudly proclaiming: ‘Tap Water’. Instead of beautiful, scantily clad girls frolicking in mountain streams, my TV ads would show a bloke in gumboots merrily filling the bottles from his garden hose. My primary target market, in case you hadn’t guessed, was tightwads like myself.
All that was before I learned that for the 15,000 tonnes of plastic bottles recycled each year, another 15,000 tonnes are landfilled. Needless to say I now feature in my own advertisements, diligently filling up bottles before leaving the house. Does it mean you’re getting old when you utter: ‘what is the world coming to?’ I asked this very question when considering the fact that someone had taken the trouble to fill the Nestle bottle from the tap in Florida, put it on a ship over here for one of us to drink, for it then to be landfilled or, with a bit of luck, find its way to the Visy plant, only to be baled up with its fellows and sent to China for processing. You can stick your Pure Life where the sun don’t shine. I ain’t buying it.