If I could make one wish for a happy couple on their wedding day, it would be that they’ve found someone who will be as loyal to them as I am to my brands of toiletries.
I don’t think my brands of toiletries are the best; I wouldn’t even necessarily recommend them. I just keep buying them because they work and are what I’ve always known.
I’m not opposed to change, but I’m very cautious about falling into new routines. Nearly twenty years ago I was overwhelmed trying to figure out the difference between shaving cream and shaving gel, so I grew a beard and have kept it ever since.
Problem solved.
I’m okay with trying out new products every once in a while, but I’ll always revert to proven performance at the moment of purchase.
I’m fond of experimenting with a hotel’s toiletries because I know they were selected by professional purchasers. I enjoy exploring what the best bulk-rate products are according to the Marriott’s market research.
It’s such a rush to know you’re using the least objectionable shampoo offered at a reasonable price point; it reminds me of Al Gore.
The worst is when you’re visiting someone and end up in their shower only to discover they have no business being in a toiletry aisle.
I only needed one step into a vegan naturalist’s shower to know I made a mistake. Cleanliness is supposed to sting your eyes: that’s how you know when to stop the cycle of lather, rinse, and repeat.
My preferences are so deeply ingrained that I only give them second thought when the products I use change their packaging. I’m the reason you’ll often see redesigned products that include a temporary label saying “new look, same great product.”
That label is normally enough to get me on board for a test run, but it doesn’t do much to settle the anxiety I’ve just experienced from not instantly recognizing my product on the shelf.
I’m comforted by the familiar. I still have nightmarish flashbacks to a time several years ago when I stepped into a shower of a family I was visiting and realized I had accidentally left my products packed several rooms away.
I was still feeling the effects of a late-night celebration among in-laws when I groggily stepped into a shower in Imlay City, Michigan, which is in-itself a disorienting sentence to write.
Taking stock of my surroundings, I realized I was in a shower used exclusively by a teenage boy.
The feeling I had at that moment must be similar to what a recent divorcee feels when finding himself thrust back into the dating pool after decades of not paying attention to the world around him.
Suddenly all the soaps have gone bar-less and I have no frame of reference for what it means to loofa.
I was pretty sure I could get through with a decent showing, but everything was slightly slippier and made me tingle in surprising places. It was intriguing, sure, but I stumbled through the motions with no confidence of what went where or even how long to scrub for a satisfying performance.
The newfangled products have decided that actual instructions are too boring and decided instead to make wisecracks and ego-inflating boasts. While I don’t remember the exact style of teenage-marketed product I used that day, I found several similar examples at a trip to my local CVS.
First, there was Old Spice Swagger body wash, which is, “for the man who holds the complete works of Aristotle in one hand, and a delicious sandwich in the other. Swagger’s subtle scent transforms your skin to feel like a smooth and hydrated playing field where confidence scores the winning touchdown.”
An actual toiletry label someone was paid to write.
That description is amazing because it equally appeals to every character ever played by James Van Der Beek.
Then, there was Old Spice High Endurance Pure Sport Body Wash which, “doesn’t leave you feeling dry or rob you of your dignity.” I imagine whoever wrote that line knows quite a bit about being robbed of their dignity.
Somewhere around age eight, Mom switched me from Johnson’s Baby Shampoo to Pert Plus. Their marketing makes sense to me. 2 in 1: Shampoo plus conditioner. Why use Pert Plus? Because it saves time and cuts down on shower clutter.
No mythical stories about fighting bears. No swagger or needless additions. Just clean hair that is decently conditioned in an appropriate amount of time.
I feel good staying loyal to something as simple as that.
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