Sometimes a brand does something so unexpected, so specific, and so deeply attuned to the cultural moment that it stops you in your scroll. This week, that brand was—wait for it—Domino’s. (Or, more accurately, their agency, The Newtons Laboratory.)
Yes, Domino’s. The pizza chain we’ve long associated with Friday nights in, college dorm cravings, and the occasional desperation dinner. But this time, Domino’s isn’t playing to the comforts of convenience. It’s inserting itself, with precision, into a very different scene: the chaotic, neon-soaked bacchanalia of a Mykonos holiday.
The new campaign—first brought to my attention via a LinkedIn post by creative director Jo Bird—features hyper-saturated portraits of sunburned tourists in mirrored sunglasses, their expressions caught mid-revelry. Reflected in their lenses? A Domino’s delivery driver, box in hand, making the drop. The tagline, in all-caps Helvetica, reads: DELIVERY ALL OVER MYKONOS.
It’s so simple. So weird. And so good.
Let’s start here: this is a campaign that understands how to tell a story without actually telling a story. There’s no clever setup, no exposition. Just an image that speaks in shorthand. A visual haiku for the overstimulated scroll. We don’t need context because the moment is already familiar—sun-drunk days, blurry nights, a gnawing hunger that strikes at the exact second you realize nothing’s open except Domino’s. The idea is universal, even if you’ve never stepped foot on a Greek island.
But what makes this campaign more than just smart art direction is how deeply it taps into the shifting mood of branding itself. We’re watching the era of polished perfection give way to something messier, funnier, and—crucially—more human. Where traditional advertising might have gone for sweeping drone shots of yachts and Santorini sunsets, Domino’s zoomed all the way in: sweat, freckles, sunburn, and all. It’s a rejection of aspiration in favor of absurdity.
And that, I think, is the point.
We’re living through what could best be described as “late capitalism, but make it memeable.” Attention is splintered. The world feels like it’s on fire—because, in many ways, it is. In that landscape, sincerity starts to feel a bit slippery. So brands are adapting not by offering stability or comfort, but by acknowledging the chaos—and participating in it. This is branding not as authority, but as co-conspirator.
We’re seeing it everywhere. Nutter Butter posting existential thirst traps. (Further proof that we’re all freaking out about it.) BRITA—yes, the water filter brand—recently released a video so drenched in irreverence, it left me wondering: are they selling me the dream of crystal-clear hydration, or a way to emotionally process my deeply unfulfilling situationship?And leave it to Amtrak to remind us that you don’t have to fly coach to suffer—because you could just… not. It’s not just Gen Z pandering. It’s something closer to cultural participation. The best brand strategy right now? Constant shitposting—with a point.
Domino’s isn’t trying to be highbrow. It’s not giving you values or virtue signaling or aspirational lifestyle. It’s giving you a weird, sweaty, deeply relatable truth: that even in the middle of your European dream vacation, the most sacred moment might just be the one where someone hands you a greasy cardboard box of comfort food.
What I love most is that this campaign doesn’t overreach. It knows what it is—and what it isn’t. The logo is barely visible. There’s no overt CTA. It trusts that if you’re intrigued, you’ll go looking. That kind of confidence is rare, and it works because the brand is no longer the main character. You are. The sweaty tourist, the late-night reveler, the person halfway between ecstatic and exhausted. Domino’s simply arrives, quietly and perfectly timed, to meet you there.
There’s also something undeniably local about the campaign—and not just geographically. It’s speaking to a specific state of mind. Mykonos isn’t just a place; it’s a proxy for escape, indulgence, and a very particular kind of modern hedonism. To drop a Domino’s delivery driver into that scene is to say: this brand is everywhere. And more importantly: you’re going to want it exactly when you least expect to.
So yes, this might be the beginning of a new creative direction for Domino’s. But more than that, it’s a masterclass in modern branding. It understands that cultural relevance isn’t built in boardrooms. It’s built in bathroom mirror selfies and group chats and niche meme accounts. It’s built by being willing to look a little silly, a little scrappy, and a little too close for comfort.
And it works.
Because if the world is going to burn, you might as well be sunburned, barefoot, and holding a slice of pizza when it happens.