The name change
Saire May, then thirty-eight, got out his deed poll forms and officially became Saire Marmite. His reasoning, as reported at the time, was that he wanted to demonstrate proper devotion to the jar. He was, on his own account, getting through one a week, and his Marmite memorabilia collection had passed a hundred items.
His family thought he was a bit mad. Saire Marmite himself was very clear that this was a price he was happy to pay.
In defence of Saire
People do silly things in the name of brand loyalty all the time, and most of them are not interesting. Tattoos of corporate logos. Limited-edition trainers. Apple keynotes. The usual.
Saire Marmite’s choice is funnier than any of those because it is so committed. There is no half-measure in a deed poll name change. You can take the tattoo off if you regret it. You cannot un-deed-poll yourself without making a second trip to the deed-poll office, which most people do not do, because at that point you might as well lean into being a man called Marmite.
This is the kind of behaviour the Hate Party will, of course, point to as evidence of Marmite-related derangement syndrome. We in the Love Party prefer to think of it as Saire’s quiet, dignified contribution to British culture.
Whatever next?
Whether Mr Marmite is still Mr Marmite, all these years on, is a fair question and one to which I do not currently have an answer. If anyone bumps into him on the high street, do let us know.
Source: Chronicle Live, original interview circa late 2000s.
