Did you just get a toothbrush instead of corporate swag?

(Or Narcan, for that matter?)

Here’s why.

Designing for Dignity

During the Great Depression, families were so strapped for resources that women began sewing clothes from flour and feed sacks. At first, the sacks were plain muslin stamped with heavy logos. Kids ended up going to school wearing dresses with “Gold Medal Flour” printed across the front.

Then manufacturers noticed. And instead of turning hardship into free advertising, they did something radical: they started printing floral patterns. Some used paper labels or washable ink so the logos disappeared after one wash. A few even included sewing instructions on the fabric itself.

A small design choice. A huge difference in dignity.

Patterns of Care

For me, that story is more than history. It’s a metaphor for what business can be.

I became known as Lancaster’s Tooth Fairy the simplest way: I carried a bag of toothbrushes and refused to walk past a neighbor without offering one. That small impulse came from my years in dentistry, where I saw how preventive care could change outcomes—sometimes drastically enough to feel like you were literally mapping lives saved.

What started as a gesture grew into a rhythm: 148 toothbrushes a month, given with two rules—no questions asked, and always a fresh brush when we meet again. Over time, it became thousands of tiny moments of dignity that reshaped how I understand community care.

(Read the full Q&A here: Lancaster’s Tooth Fairy – A Q&A with Emily Hess, One United Lancaster)

Later, I expanded that impulse into the Lancaster Cares Map—a clickable resource that surfaces nearby housing, food, recovery, and health services. What started as a toothbrush in a pocket turned into a way to scale compassion through technology.

So when it came time to pick company swag, I didn’t want knickknacks stamped with my logo. I wanted something that carried the same values I’ve carried all along: dignity, care, and usefulness.

One morning, while refilling my toothbrush bag, it clicked: this is the swag. I’d been doing it for years. Now I hand out toothbrushes in pairs—one to keep, one to give away. And because care scales, I added Narcan. No logos, no gimmicks. Just tools that might make someone’s day safer—or even save a life.

That’s the kind of marketing I want to put into the world.

Why Toothbrushes and Narcan

🪥 Toothbrushes — Always in pairs: one to keep, one to give. Because care multiplies when it’s shared.

🚑 Narcan — Because sometimes the most impactful gift a business can give isn’t a pen or a tote bag, but a second chance at life.

No logos. No gimmicks. Just practical tools that hold dignity—and sometimes, save lives.

The Takeaway

When you walk away from Markit with a toothbrush or Narcan kit, it’s not quirky swag. It’s a thread connecting past to present: from flour sack dresses… to survival systems… to the way I build businesses today.

Because branding doesn’t have to mean stamping your name everywhere. It can mean being remembered for the care you showed, the lives you touched, and the systems you built to make things easier.

That’s what Markit stands for.