On Monday, I called a few of my local Dunkin’ locations to ask if they still had the free tote bags available with the purchase of a half or full dozen donuts. One location was very confused by the call, one didn’t answer, and one said that yes, they had just one in stock. I raced over, and to my relief, I secured the bag.
The free tote was a limited-time promotion. Locations only got 20 bags each. It’s not the first Dunkin’ merchandise promotion, and certainly not even the most exciting. A branded tote bag is one of those things that you accumulate in life — not necessarily something you seek out.
But there was just something about the Dunkin’ tote that called to me. As far as totes go, it’s handsome. It came in pink or orange straps against white, an L.L. Bean-influenced style. I felt something deep in my bones, my soul, that I had to have it.
What was it about this tote back that activated something in me? Stanning a brand is cringe (see: Disney adults), and I live in fear of being cringe. So what made this different for me?
I have a few ideas.
Dunkin’s merch strategy works on Gen Z
The marketing for Dunkin’ has leaned into viral moments and Gen Z appeal in the last few years. In 2020, Dunkin’ got TikTok star Charli D’Amelio to act as spokesperson and sold viral donut-scented candles. Its menu is full of sweet iced drinks that chase trendy flavors like matcha and ube. Dunkin’ recently jumped on the “dirty soda” trend, combining Pepsi and coffee milk. (I tried it, along with some of its other newest drinks, and found it fairly disgusting.)
Part of this push to Gen Z is with limited merch drops over the last few years (young people love a “drop”). This winter, Dunkin’ gave away a single pink mitten to keep your hand warm while holding an iced coffee, a playful nod to the Northeast tradition of consuming iced coffee even in winter. (While this may have once been a New England thing, the rise of iced beverages is nationwide, and since 2021, iced drinks have outsold hot ones at Starbucks, even in winter months.)
Earlier this spring, Dunkin’ gave away a pink wedding ring box (with purchase of 25 or more Munchkins) as part of its “I Dough” collaboration with Vera Wang. The collection, available online, was bridal-themed, including a white silk robe and pajama set with little cups of iced coffee on the sleeves.
A spokesperson for Dunkin’ told me the brand leans into the playful aspect of its personality and believes its fans appreciate being in on the joke.
New England runs on Dunkin’ merch
Regional pride is certainly a factor here. Dunkin’ started in the Boston suburbs in the 1950s, and now has more than 14,000 locations worldwide, but the Northeast US still has the highest concentration of stores. Although its headquarters are still in Massachusetts, Dunkin’ is owned by the conglomerate Inspire Brands, which also owns Buffalo Wild Wings, Jimmy John’s, and Arby’s. In May, Inspire Brands confidentially filed for an initial public offering.
I’m not immune to all this, having grown up in New England, where Munchkins and a Box O’ Joe were a simple part of the fabric of life. Even so, I didn’t really think of Dunkin’ as being so aligned with Boston and New England until the last decade or so, when there seemed to be a shift in the public consciousness about Dunkin’ being part of the Masshole identity. Whether this shift was organic or pushed by Dunkin’s own marketing, it’s hard to say.
In 2024, Dunkin’ sold limited editions of the “Dunkings” tracksuit worn by Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, and Tom Brady in a Super Bowl ad. The suits sold out in minutes. The Massachusetts governor wore the tracksuit to an event. Affleck and Damon, who have lived in Los Angeles for nearly their entire adult lives, appeared in more Super Bowl spots for the chain in 2025 and 2026.
Katie Notopoulos/Business Insider
The ironic love of Dunkin’: It’s kind of bad
There’s something about Dunkin’ that engenders love and a fandom unlike, say, Starbucks. People love Starbucks, sure. But they don’t typically wear Starbucks tracksuits or bucket hats. (Starbucks is the US’s No. 2 restaurant chain — behind McDonald’s — with more than $29 billion in consumer spending in 2025, which was up 2% from the previous year, according to a report from EMARKETER, Business Insider’s sister company. Dunkin’ is No. 5, with nearly $13.5 billion in spending, up 5% from the prior year.)
There’s also a layer of irony in the love of Dunkin’ that’s different from loving a “good” coffee shop.
Dunkin’ is, and I say this with great affection, kind of crummy. Dunkin’ does not aspire for that high-end coffee shop experience that Starbucks is going for. The interiors often leave a little to be desired, the food’s consistency is questionable, and the coffee is love-it-or-hate-it.
That lower pretension and lower price point are part of its appeal. I would go so far as to say that its humble reputation holds particular sway among its New England fan base, where there are deep cultural taboos against displays of flashiness or luxury. There are, of course, status symbols that denote New England class striations, but these are often subtle and hard for outsiders to parse. Something as overt as loudly announcing your love of expensive coffee (expensive coffee certainly exists there!) would violate local norms.
This is my first piece of Dunkin’ merch, even after decades of happy Munchkin consumption. My colleague Juliana Kaplan owns a Dunkin’-inspired T-shirt. A Dunkin’-loving friend who grew up in Massachusetts was given one of the pink “D” door handles from an actual Dunkin’ location as a housewarming gift when she bought an apartment in Queens. There’s just something whimsical and silly about Dunkin’ merch that people love.
I am already using my Dunkin’ bag (I like to think of it as a Dunkin’ Birkin, or what I call … a Dunkin) and have already received compliments on it.
A day later, totes are selling for $30 to $50 on eBay, and other limited Dunkin’ drops are selling for even more. I’ve seen the single mitten for $75 on Facebook Marketplace, and a hat that was given out at Fenway Park with the Red Sox’s “B” logo on an iced coffee is going for $75-plus.
But me? I’ll never sell.
