But it was not the bar itself that stuck in my mind, it was the packaging. I found its wrapper so fascinating that I squirrelled it away in a box of trinkets, still in my possession today. Here it is:
Look at it. Just look at it. Gaze upon that phantasmagoria of clowns and monkey-men, and imagine the effect that it would have on the psyche of an innocent child. If you can't be bothered to zoom in, here are some highlights:
Mysteries within mysteries. The bar is German in origin, but yet bears the Anglophone name "Mr.Tom" (not to mention the English word "PEANUT" proudly emblazoned to the right of the wrapper). Unlikely to have been named in homage to the fiction of Michelle Magorian, the bar was possibly intended to carry the exotic feel of genuine Americana.
On only one occasion during my childhood did I ever find a place that sold Mr.Tom bars. Were it not for the fact that I held on to the wrapper, I may even have passed off the experience as merely a product of my fevered childhood imagination.
However, just this week I visited a local bar that sold Chomps, Milky Ways and… Mr.Toms, still bearing that familiar packaging. Without hesitation, I plonked down 50p.
As can be seen, the wrapper did not survive the past twenty years entirely intact, the imagery having been truncated to make way for nutritional information. It is also worth noting that, although the design is much the same, a side-by-side comparison will reveal a few adjustments - such as the baffling absence of the strongmen. Did somebody decide that musclebound men squeezed into leopard-print shorts were an inappropriate subject for a children's confection?
Long may you live, Mr.Tom. Long may your bizarre images be burned into the minds of impressionable children as they devour your peanutty goodness. If only more confectionary followed your approach to packaging...
