There is a particular corner of American culture that lingers deep in kitchen cabinets, most certainly my grandfather’s, in which the store brand has gone to die. Aluminum foil. Freezer bags. The list goes on. I have yet to convince my husband that any private-label brand has an equivalent to Charmin’s Ultra Soft 3-ply, quilted, scalloped-edge toilet paper, and he’s been unable to convince me that private-label painkillers are the exact same as name-brand ones. 

It’s all about perception when it comes to private labels. 

However, oddly enough, in the past few years, the generic option has become more coveted.