BRANDING

Tracking Schott The mind behind some of Gen Z's favorite brands wants consumers to embrace imperfection.

- YASMIN GAGNE

TWO MONTHS AFTER THE SUPREME COURT overturned Roe v. Wade, Julie Schott launched emergency contraception brand Julie. The timing was fortuitous. Though morning-after pills have been widely available since 1977, the renewed focus on reproductive rights put increased attention on products across the family planning spectrum.

Julie's electric-blue boxes are emblazoned with the brand's name in hot pink and are evocative of mid-'90s Sassy magazine covers. The brand has used that attention-alongside national distribution at more than 13,000 major retail locations-to make its levonorgestrel tablets popular, even fashionable to Gen Z. Just ask the 22,000 people at the Olivia Rodrigo concert on March 12 in St. Louis. They received free boxes of Julie from the singer, in partnership with the Missouri Abortion Fund.

Julie-which lacks the more clinical, furtive associations that come with brands like Plan B-had, remarkably, made the morning-after pill cool.

That's due in part to its marketing. The company's humorous ads-one of which features two women trying to prove their worthiness for the last box of Julie to each other by comparing their boyfriends' quirks ("my boyfriend is a DJ... in the metaverse")-went viral on TikTok last year, racking up more than 4 million views.

That Julie marketed the FDA-approved product in a way that removes the associated stigma and positions it instead as a medicine cabinet necessity for the average twentysomething is a feat of branding.

Making a commonplace product seem novel and cool is a specialty of cofounder Schott. Her first company, Starface, turned acne-care staple hydrocolloid pimple patches into Instagrammable star-shaped accessories.