Absolutely! Slavery was the focus of some of the earliest, mass consumer action campaigns in modern history.
In 1791, Britain's Parliament had rejected a proposal for the abolition of the slave trade; realising that legislative action was not likely to produce tangible results anytime soon, some elements of the anti-slavery campaign realised that instead of trying to destroy the institution from the top, it could perhaps be weakened from the bottom first. Britain imported huge quantities of sugar from the Caribbean every year, almost all of it slave-grown; much of this sugar was for (largely middle-class) consumer user in making tea, cake and biscuit making, and sweetening foodstuffs. If the abolitionist campaign could not pursue the planters via parliamentary action, then perhaps they could assert indirect pressure on them by hurting the profits of the merchants trading in their goods.
Anti-slavery societies began to mass produce and distribute anti-slavery tracts that specifically targeted the sugar industry; in 1789, a former slave by the name of Olaudah Equiano had published an autobiography titled The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano; over night it had become a literary sensation, a work that offered both a personal narrative take on slavery as well as compelling intellectual and moral challenges to the institution. In the early 1790s there was a strong market for and public interest in not just for abolitionist literature but for radical, establishment-critical politics in general. Local anti-slavery societies tapped into this climate of increading radicalism and awareness of the evils of slavery to push their supporters to boycott sugar made in the British Caribbean; there were even canvassing campaigns not unlike those in modern British elections, with campaigners asking people in their homes or on the street to talk about sugar. It very quickly became a national phenomenon in which hundreds of thousands of people participated. In some localities where social reform support was strongest, sales of sugar dropped by a quarter to a third.
Most retailers of course continued to sell slave sugar products as before. Many, though, recognised that the boycott was also creating a new market, and others were sympathetic to its moral argument. Some establishments stopped selling sugar altogether, as the campaign also lobbied people to boycott stores that did - much more common, though, was for an establishment to put up a sign indicating that it purchased only sugar grown by 'free' labour in Britain's Asian colonies, instead of slaves in the Caribbean. This is rather like we have fair trade goods today - people participating in the boycott who still wanted sugar would go to a shop with a sign showing that they sold only sugar from the East Indies, or that they did not sell slave-made sugar. In this period, imports for sugar from regions of the Empire outside of the Caribbean absolutely exploded, though not enough to meaningfully dent the profits of Caribbean slavery. Markets also developed for commemorative goods celebrating the campaign; it was popular for participants to buy sugar pots or tea cups with anti-slavery quotes or designs on them, and some shops took to displaying their sugar in ornate anti-slavery pottery.
What is hugely significant about this campaign is that it was driven largely by people who could not vote; the anti-slavery associations responsible for turning the boycott into mass consumer action were overwhelmingly led and organised by middle class women nearly 130 years before the first British women could vote. It was likewise a mass campaign that brought in and depended upon the support of men and women from a wide range of backgrounds and walks of life, most of who likewise were not eligible to participate in elections; this was truly a mass campaign in which marginalised members of society were sincerely and rigorously exerting political pressure even as they were excluded from claims to political power. Many of the people involved also began to marginalised religious groups - Quakers, Methodists and other non-conformists especially.
There were, of course, limits to the campaign's success. It was never intended to succeed in providing a lasting alternative market for slave goods - it was a campaign intended to mobilise mass support, demonstrate the real power of the abolitionist movement even if parliamentary power was placed against it, and weaken any solidarity between the planter establishment and the merchant class. The boycott applied to sugar only as the iconic good of the plantation economy and the largest export of it: at the same time as consumers and merchants were boycotting sugar grown in Jamaica's lowland, they were buying coffee grown on the side of its mountains. Consumers continued to buy coffee, tobacco and cotton grown by slave labour en masse as before. Likewise, sugar grown in Britain's Asian possessions was not necessarily grown by free labour as you or I think of the term; that was an industry that still involved considerable exploitation and abuse of it workers. An analogy for today might be boycotting goods manufactured by trafficked people and replacing them with those made in legal sweat shops; better, but still far from ideal.
After 1794, the sugar boycott itself also went into decline as the British government became increasingly intolerant of anti-slavery agitation; France would abolish slavery that year (though only until 1802), at a time when Britain was at war with that country, and thus the anti-slavery campaign was persecuted as seditious and contrary to the national interest. Planter interests in Parliament had also responded sharply to the initial gains of the boycott movement; though only a few dozen MPs were intimately associated with the slave trade, they represented a profoundly influential bloc, and they successfully pushed for protectionist measures to keep the cost of Indian sugar imports well above those of slave sugar (in the long-run, this would prove a strategic mistake - after the abolition of slavery in the 1830s the imperial government, rather than easing taxation on eastern sugar, simply increased it on Caribbean goods). The boycott was revived in future years in the run-up to the abolish of the slave trade in 1807, and it had a major revival in the 1820s.
There was never a comparable mass campaign in the United States in the same way. Around the same time as the development of the first sugar boycott though, there did emerge a 'free produce' movement within some parts of the United States. The brainchild of radical Quakers who wanted a non-violent means of resisting slavery, the free produce movement was more about providing a sustainable, alternative market to slave produced goods. Free produce societies and their abolitionists advocates campaigned to provide alternative sources for goods like cotton and create a market for consumer goods that used only ingredients and components made by free labour. It was never a particularly successful endeavour, though; the national free produce movement only existed in an organised way for about a decade, struggled to attract mass support and often found it extremely difficult to distinguish goods made with slave labour input from those made purely by free labour. There were certainly individuals throughout the 19th century in the United States who tried to maintain commercial operations that had nothing to do with slave labour, but there was no organised mass consumer movement comparable to what happened in Britain.