My Parody Art Series ‘no shame®’ Was Shut Down by Canada’s Largest Food Retailer.
no shame® was an art series parodying one of Canada’s most iconic brands, no name®. At first, a fun project leaning into the the look-a like name, with products to match—from sex toys to drugs—it grew into something that resonated on a deeper level, delving into discussions of self-image and core values. Shortly after launching the series, a letter landed in my inbox and the project was over just like that. Here’s the story how no name® made no shame® no more.
“no shame parody dildo printed on canvas and displayed at DEECE studio”
no name®
For the internationally unacquainted: in Canada, our grocery shelves are lined with products from a brand called “‘no name® (owned by Loblaws, Canada’s largest grocery and pharmacy retailer). Easily recognizable and absolutely iconic, the brand’s simple yellow background, lower-case Helvetica lettering, and minimal imagery (if any) make it stand out from everything else down the grocery aisle. I’d say it’s a pretty genius design — bold, unique, and positioned as the affordable alternative to the flashy, in-your-face brands a shelf over.
It’s been around for decades, hard to miss, and it’s become a uniquely Canadian symbol alongside the likes of Kraft Dinner, Canadian Tire money, and a cup of Tim Horton double-double coffee (two sugar, two milks). Simply put, It’s a Canadian value brand of products that takes up space within your fridge and pantries..
'“Inside the marketing brilliance of No Name”, February 2020
The Spark®
One day, had to have been late 2018-early 2019, I was walking down the aisle of the Great Canadian Superstore, with a bundle of banana’s in one hand and a can of no name pinto beans in the other and thought: “Wouldn’t it be funny if ‘no name’ sold some questionably inappropriate products — like, say, a dildo?”
As I played around with the idea, I imagined they could somehow set apart their typical roster of products from the ones you’d expect to find behind the counter — the kinds of things people might slip into a brown paper bag. You feel a little ashamed walking around in public with some alcohol, weed, or lingerie. But really, there would be no shame in it, folks just want a cheaper altern.…wait..
..no name..no shame..no shame®. Bingo.
“Scrutinizing the iconic yellow No Name packaging design - December 2019.”
Statistically speaking, it’s no stretch to think someone may have made this connection before... And I was right. A quick Google search pulled up other no shame branded items: a bumper sticker here, a patch there, even a few random prints. I also remember stumbling across photoshopped images of fake products like no name beer (coincidentally, just months later they actually released a no name beer as part of the infamous “buck-a-beer” promotion if anyone from Ontario remembers that debacle)
So I got to work, prototyping various ideas and figuring out how to lean into the parody while also giving the project a some depth. As the name suggests, it felt any product that would touch on the idea of shame was a good start — whether it be things we are ashamed of using or redirecting that shame toward other’s habits.
I’d imagine what kinds of products no name® might come up with as a profit-driven company competing in retail. Instead of no name® all-dressed chips competing with Ruffles at No Frills, it would be no shame® sex toys competing with brands like Fleshlight or LELO at the Stag Shop. Or maybe cheaper weed. Or more affordable birth control. And so on.
Then I began exploring more inventive takes on shame. One of my favourites being a bra for asymmetrical breasts, highlighting body image insecurities, or a pack of flats to rip open the morning after, to comfortably walk to your car with heels in hands (not much you can do about that sweaty club dress from the night before).
creating the first few no shame pieces
Process-wise, it always started with the question: “What is someone ashamed of?” From there, I’d try to build an image around that shame. After some concept sketches, I’d usually grab various products and packages off the shelf, hack and modify them into a mishmash of something usable, paint it yellow, and — most importantly — meticulously design, print, and label wrap the packaging, ready for photography. Any touch-ups were done in Photoshop, the less the better.
Aesthetically, I drew heavy inspiration from New York–based Australian artist CJ Hendry. Her approach — placing ordinary objects against a simple white background with subtle drop shadows — was the biggest influence in the presentation. Simplicity and realism were key, which is ultimately why I avoided 3D modelling the products. Our subconscious picks up on the uncanny look of computer generated objects, it’s too…perfect (especially up close). The blemishes, bends, and scratches that come with the real thing just can’t compare.
creating the labels: It’s all about that attention to detail.
As the weeks went by, I soft-launched some of these pieces on Instagram, but I was struggling to figure out the best medium to showcase the idea. Should I paint them? Do hyper-realistic drawings? Maybe even an augmented reality experience? Were photos enough?. what was the best way to differentiate between an art series that could lead to discussion on sensitive topics and confusing it with a real product (this would become problematic later on)
After a couple of posts, I felt like I hadn’t quite figured it out yet. So I pulled back and decided to wait for the right moment to try again.
Experimenting with different mediums and presentation styles.
But, as the ideas kept flowing out, one thought started to bug me:: “Am I allowed to do this?” Once this was out in the world, I started to wonder if it might cross into copyright infringement or trademark issues. After some digging into copyright and trademark laws, I came across this:
it looked like a pass to me!. If only I hadn’t been so selective and ignore some important caveats… but I’ll get into that soon. Ultimately, I felt I really had something cool here — it was just a matter of when and how to present the series.
Children from immigrant families getting bullied for their ‘smelly’ lunch. been there.
the launch®
Then the pandemic hit. I kept picking away at the project, and as the ideas kept flowing and the “products” were coming to life, I got more and more excited about its potential. It just scratched the right itch. it was funny and I felt it was quite clever. So with covid rent prices crashing, I took advantage of the times and moved into a new studio to take this project to the next level.
Move in day to the new ‘DEECE Studio’
I spent all my free time bringing this project to life — a playground for my creations. I was obsessed with the details. I tried to do as much of the work myself as possible, outsourcing only when it was more highly cost-effective or convenient (who would’ve guessed you can order custom condoms, skateboards, and even decks of cards?). Along the way, I picked up new skills: studio photography and lighting, packaging design, illustration, 3D modeling, 3D printing, sewing, framing, advertising… and on and on. I was having a blast.
A functional 3D printed hand for shame around prosthetics.
At least half of the pieces were a hodgepodge collogue of items Frankensteined together that I hoped would turn out well in post..
While the other half were fully fleshed out items that I built from scratch or custom ordered, requiring minimal retouching after photography.
Somewhere along the way, I felt ready to put this out into the world. I had a clear enough vision of how it could play out, and ultimately the medium I landed on was—well—social media. Whether it was a photograph, a video, an article, or a post, getting the idea out and starting a discussion was the most important thing. This way, I could clearly differentiate it between a shit-post and an art series (there’s a fine line mind you.. if any).
With about 10 finished pieces and another 25 fairly fleshed out, it was time to put this out there.
On April 1, 2021, we went live.
“My head was smoking with ideas”
“I supplement the core pieces with posts that take a deeper dive into each theme of shame, or present an alternate view of the artwork in a different environment.”
I also launched a website to showcase my work, and I even started posting some TikTok specific content under a mini series I called ‘tell me you’re Canadian without telling me you’re Canadian”. it was going better than I expected.
‘I got you a bra for Loonie and Toonie’
I felt like this was really resonating with people. Some folks were even confusing my pieces with actual no name® products, while others suggested I should collab with the brand itself — DEECE x no name®.
But then came the other comments: “What if they don’t like what you’re doing? Is this even allowed?” To which I shrugged it off: “It’s satire, it’s parody — don’t worry about it ;)”
in the meantime, no name® was leaning further into their own quirky marketing campaign, releasing branded merch like cooler bags, water bottles, and other lifestyle products.
More pieces, more posts — I was really getting into a flow. I’ve always been a huge fan of bringing works to life off the screen, and the objects themselves were really just crude prototypes since the focus was always on the finished composition and image. So turning these into large canvas prints felt like the next best step to bring these pieces into the real world. They had that quality you could walk up to in a gallery and scrutinize the details.
I was pretty deep into this and thought it’d be nice to recoup some costs. I started brainstorming ideas for merch but felt it needed to be more meaningful than your average drop-shipped crap. I got to work on a run of t-shirts, long sleeves, and socks — a signed edition of 100 each.
To really make it stand out, the packaging had to shine. Just like the no shame® pieces, I designed and assembled everything myself: a sweater in a box, a t-shirt in a can, socks in a cup. Each item was hand-assembled, pressed, embroidered, right down to the custom wash tag.
I figured this was a great way for people to support my work and actually own a physical piece of it too — whether they wore it or displayed it on a shelf.
I had another neat idea: flip the classic “Hello, my name is” sticky name tags you’d wear at an office party or during shadow day (at the new school you definitely regret leaving your friends for) into “Hello, my shame is.” Instead of scribbling your name, you’d write your shame and wear it proudly on your sleeve (or, in this case, somewhere vaguely visible on the front of your shirt).
I tabled the idea for a while since I couldn’t quite figure out how to make it fit as a stand alone product piece. That is, until, eventually I came up with the no shame® tags prints!, limited to 50, each one with its own unique crumple, fully framed and ready to hang.
By then, I had a bit of a support tier built out: starting with the most affordable pins, patches, and stickers, moving up to merch, then prints, and ultimately the giant stretched canvases with their corresponding digital 1 of 1 NFTs (yeah, yeah — it was the new hot thing at the time). no starving artist here🤞.
“Please write your shame on your shame tag”
But then one day, I received an email in my inbox..
the collapse®
In short, a legal rep at Loblaws, eloquently demanded I remove all no shame related content from my channels across all platform, for XYZ reason, or face some legal repercussions. initially, It was mainly aimed at the merch I was selling, but with some back and forth for clarification, really, it covered the whole project. a big ol’ cease and desist was under way. At first, it didn’t seem fair — I thought I was protected!
But after digging a little deeper, I realized I was drifting out of the grey area. the risks were clear:
Consumer confusion — people could mistake it for official no name® merch.
Tarnishment — the sexual/taboo imagery could be seen as damaging their brand image.
Commercial competition — it was just art, I was selling merch, and so were they.
“A re-enactment of how it felt receiving a cease and desist letter from a Loblaws Legal Representative. I’ve closed down my old email since then, so I couldn’t pull up the original.”
I panicked. Shit. I weighed the odds of what I could do. at first, I stuck to my guns with a bit of push back, but it started to escalating quite quickly. they were not messing around.. Maybe I could just take down the merch? Nope not enough, maybe consult a copyright Lawyer? the phone call went something like this: “Loblaws? well jeez… how much money ya got kid”.
So I freaked out and felt this may not be worth getting sued over. So… I complied. I removed my posts, set my website to private, and had one last hurrah on my Instagram Stories: showcasing what could have been. It was a great run, and I assured my followers that the next project was underway! (And to be honest, a big motivation in trying to reach the finish line on a project is so I can move on to the next, right? right??)
showing all the unfinished no shame pieces. Includes early mockups and concepts.
It really was a shame (heh) because I even began the ground work for a future exhibition, including a mix of interactive augmented reality elements, and a pretty clever photo-booth mind you. Dam..just and I painted the entrance of my studio too.
And that..was that. I did a big giveaway for the stickers, patches and pin as one last hurrah, shut down the studio, packed up, and took a break. had some major life changes, starting traveling the world, blah blah. I tried to start up some art projects without much success..but thats a few stories for another time.
Looking back, what would I have done differently? Definitely more planning — and preparing for the worst-case scenario in advance — would have helped. Parodying intellectual property can be a slippery slope, and it’s something you have to be willing to work hard to stand up against.
In the end, it was just a fun project, and at the time I told myself not to get too attached. I had to accept that it’s okay to let go and trust myself come up with something new. Once in a while I think about bringing the project back, but after a couple of years I’ve accepted that the chapter is closed, and I’m happy with where my life has taken me since.
Doing this write-up gives me a sense of closure — a reminder — that I made something pretty neat, something to be proud of — and that’s enough.
no shame archived instagram posts on instagram
Since then? Well, I’m no conspiracist, but every once in a while a follower would send me an article about some new merch or marketing angle no name® had rolled out — they’d swear it was directly inspired by the no shame® series. You’d be the judge of that.
Hopefully you enjoyed the journey, and for those who were hoping to see the art again, now you have a chance to take a glimpse of it on this little corner of the internet.
If you’d like to know what I've personally been up to or if you have any questions, just shoot me a message on Instagram. @denniscatana
Video montage compiling 133 movie clips where characters say “shame” for your viewing pleasure.
