on climbing the great hill of products

some self-help for stupid people

Earlier this year, I realized I had (mostly) reached the end of “products.”¹ What I mean is, I knew the face wash I liked, the moisturizer I liked, the sunscreen I liked, the retinol I liked,² the hair products I liked, the shaving cream I liked, and so on. There wasn’t a reason to buy anything new ever again. I could just buy these products forever. I had triumphed—over Product. They said it couldn’t be done,³ but I had done it.⁴

Or had I? Despite this state being, in theory, my heart’s desire, there was also something about it I resisted. In my head, I framed this as “the travel size problem” most of the time. That is, most of my beloved Products did not come in travel sizes… so I needed to keep trying things, to find out what would work in travel sizes, in case I had to travel someplace, as it would be a shame not to feel I was failing to look my best because of a lack of one Product or another. Suppose for instance I was off in a library doing archival research somewhere, Miskatonic University perhaps, and Taylor Swift walked in, coincidentally doing research herself on the very same subject, but—instead of taking me under her wing and making me not only her artistic collaborator and but actually her best friend now and official biographer—she turned her face away, because I had not my Product. This could easily happen.

There was also of course the “what if they stop making it” problem and the “what if they reformulate it” problem. Surely it was important to have a backup… or six. What if I had a job interview after the total collapse of the global economy yet lose the gig at the mutant herding facility because my face, lacking Product, was insufficiently radiant? That would be almost as bad as failing to work with Taylor Swift because I was using a slightly less good moisturizer, though not really as bad because my life expectancy would probably be greatly reduced in this scenario.

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I’m obviously poking fun at myself but it’s genuinely strange to me how much I don’t want to admit I do not need to try new things anymore. In fact, not only do I not need to try new things, I don’t actually enjoy it because the things I already like work better. I’ve been using a sample of a different moisturizer while I wait for my preferred one to arrive in the mail and of course I don’t really like it as much because again I already know what I like. Yet realizing this is disappointing. Some of it isn’t me exactly—if I want to get my moisturizer of choice, I have to hit a certain threshold for free shipping, and if I just buy four tubes of moisturizer then one might expire before I reach the end, and so on.

But a lot of it is me—I never thought of myself as a person who enjoyed shopping for skincare products, I always thought I regarded these things as an annoying waste of time until I found the right products and could continue on autopilot until I died, but no. Instead, I feel like this:

me using my stupid facewash that i like and which works the best

I can date the beginning of my Product Quest to 2015, which is, according to my purchase history, when I decided to try actually washing my face daily instead of waking up every morning, going “yep that’s my face,” and wandering off. I did this with the vague belief I would prove it to be bunk, but then, in my case, it wasn’t bunk, which was very annoying. So maybe it’s just the sadness that comes at the end of a long journey. Maybe I’ll get over it.…

But I promised some self help for stupid people, so here it is.

If you really like the feeling of trying A New Thing, unwrapping the box and so on, there is a way to pursue this feeling that is, in addition to its other virtues, reasonably environmentally friendly, comparatively, and might even let you support local artisans.

It is: bar soap.

that’s right: soap that comes in a bar

Bar soap can be as expensive or as cheap as you need or want. (If you want to spend $12 on a single bar of soap, this is absolutely possible, but you can get by with much less.) If you like fragrances, it comes in a billion, and if you (like me) don’t, there are still lots of options to choose from. If you like buying local, there is almost definitely at least one crunchy lady making soap and selling it somewhere near you. And on most websites, it’s easy to slip in a bar of soap without driving up your order too much, or even to hit the free shipping marker. I order from Vitacost⁵ and there’s always some new weird soap to try to bump the order over $50.

And, finally, unlike a giant bottle of body wash, no bar of soap lasts months and months, so you can always try something new. Bar soap is, basically, the perfect little experiment that never has to end, unless you have severe skin sensitivities, in which case I have no advice for you and even if I did you would be wise not to take it.

Now, of course, if you find the bar soap to end all bar soaps, you’ll have to come up with something else. My recommendation sort of assumes no such bar soap exists, but it’s possible. Balt salts are nice. I mean, the kind that goes in the bath, though I’m sure the drugs are nice too. Obviously it’s better simply to have no urge to buy stuff but this is not self help for people who have escaped from samsara.

1. We’re closing in on the perfect fragrance free non-solid deodorant. Our best men are working on it day and night.

2. In theory (I almost never remember to use it and then my tube expired so I threw it out).

3. No one said this.

4. I’m not linking to any of these!!!!! You must find your own Product.

5. Recommend this place if you’re looking for a reliable store that isn’t owned by Amazon (it’s owned by Kroger). (I hate ordering any kind of grocery item on Amazon because it’s so full of fakes.… people rightfully talk about how Amazon is “bad” but it’s worth saying Amazon is also “incompetent.” You go on there looking at lamps and every one is from a seemingly fake brand called like GYPLRUI and the review are half “soooo perfect” and half “it burned down my home, otherwise good.”)