Meet Our Pangolin: Why Medicus Caps Chose a Mascot With Scales

There is a new face on our order emails, our contact page and, from today, our blog. He has green scales, a navy cap with an M on it, and he has been answering to the working name "Pango" in the workshop. He is a pangolin, and this post is about why.

Why a mascot at all

Medicus Caps makes one thing, and we make it in Sheffield: reusable cotton scrub caps for people who spend their days in theatres, wards, clinics and surgeries. That is a serious product for serious work. But the people wearing them are not serious all day long, and neither are we. We wanted something on the emails and the packaging that felt like a person had sent it, not a system. A small character who could hand you your parcel, point at the wash label, and say thank you properly.

So we drew one. Twenty-five poses, one cap, and a lot of arguments about which animal.

The animals that didn't make it

We went through the usual suspects first, and most of them fell over quickly.

The owl is the default for anything medical or educational. Wise, calm, and on the wall of every third GP surgery in the country. That was the problem. We would have been the fifth owl in your inbox.

The fox is clever and very Sheffield, but a fox in a scrub cap looks like it is about to steal something from the drugs cupboard.

The hedgehog came close. British, gentle, curls up to protect itself. Then someone pointed out that we sell a soft thing you put on your head, and a hedgehog is the one animal you would never put on your head.

The bear is friendly but enormous, and it says teddy, not theatre.

Why the pangolin won

It is covered in overlapping layers. A pangolin is the only mammal with scales, and they overlap the way a well-made cap sits: snug, layered, protective, and nothing gets through. Every one of those scales is made of keratin, the same stuff as your own hair. It seemed a fair symbol for something built to protect what is underneath it.

It is gentle. Pangolins have no teeth. They eat ants, keep to themselves, and when something goes wrong they roll into a ball and wait for it to pass. If you have worked a night shift you will recognise the instinct.

It is quietly tough. Those scales are strong enough to see off a lion. A Medicus cap is not quite in that league, but it is made to go through hundreds of hot washes and come out the same shape it went in, and we liked the parallel.

Nobody else has one. We checked. There are owls, foxes, bears and a surprising number of cartoon stethoscopes. There are no pangolins in scrub caps. Now there is one.

It needs the attention. The pangolin is the most trafficked mammal in the world, and most people could not pick one out of a line-up. If a few thousand nurses, surgeons, vets and students end up knowing what a pangolin looks like because one keeps turning up on their parcels, that is a small good thing we are happy to have caused.

The green scales, and the cap

His scales are surgical green on purpose: the colour of theatre linen, and the colour most of our customers picture when they think of a scrub cap. The cap is our navy, with a gold M. He wears it the way you are supposed to: fully covering the hair, tied at the back, nothing showing above the ears.

He needs a proper name

"Pango" was the file name. It stuck in the workshop because nobody had a better idea, and we would rather the people who wear the caps chose the real one. Suggest a name below. In a few weeks we will shortlist the best and put them to a vote on this page, and whoever's name wins gets the credit, in writing, right here.

Two house rules. Keep it kind, and keep it short enough to embroider. Anything that would not pass a ward manager does not get past our filter either.

You will see more of him over the autumn: on the packaging, on the size guide, and pointing at the QR code on your cap's digital passport. If you have a pose you would like to see him in, tell us in the box above, or drop us a line on the contact page.