The following is an open (and vastly satirical) letter to Dollar Shave Club.
Dear Dollar Shave Club,
Long time customer, first time letter writer. I have to tell you, there are few smells in life that get me as fired up as anything Hawaiian or citrus or ginger. So the three together? Hang it up! We’re talking total smell Shangri-la. That’s why when I saw you sold ‘Hawaiian Citrus Ginger’ face wash, I lost my shiz. Sign me the hell up, I said! Take my money, DSC! And that you did.
The day my order arrived, I gleefully placed the pretty purple bottle on the white tile ledge of my shower windowsill. Tomorrow, if the untold quantities of coffee I imbibe don’t serve to wake me up, this refreshing, light, crisp floral wash will most certainly do the trick!
So the next morning with the hot water flowing, I liberally slathered the wash on a facial poof and awaited the sensory magic that was about to happen. Ready to be transported to a plumeria-covered mountainside filled with spicy orange groves in 3…2………1?
Nope. Not an orange grove. Not in Hawaii. Can’t make out any warm ginger, either. As a matter of fact, am I even in this decade? Or did I just travel to the interior of a windowless van in 1974 where a dude’s just poured half a bottle of cheap cologne on his taint en route to a Jethro Tull concert?
Mayhap I have.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but I think your ad copy guy may have been drunk when he came up with the descriptors for this product. I say guy because there’s no way on this planet or any other that a female could be so out of touch as to describe this as ‘Hawaiian’ or ‘citrus’ or ‘ginger’. Yes, my bias is showing (right along with my logic).
If by ‘Hawaiian’, he meant that the dirty lumberjack from which the scent was derived had once eaten a pizza with pineapple on it, then yes! This is most certainly Hawaiian.
If by ‘citrus’, he meant the intense orange chemical smell coming from the janitor’s closet near his office, then hallelujah! That’s damn citrusy.
And if by ‘ginger’, he meant the pungent cocktail of paint solvents emanating from the remodel of the Thai food restaurant next door, then score one for the drunk ad guy!
And as far as the effect on the skin, I have one question. Is paradise supposed to burn? Because if it is, bring on the Mai Tais and the 3rd degree burn ointment. It’s party time!
To be fair, maybe my expectations were a bit too high. I was expecting paradise. But, it’s not so much paradise as it is the smell of the hand-soap used in the men’s bathroom of the VFW bingo hall in Lincoln Nebraska, circa 1978.
I don’t really know what’s in your face wash, but it’s any fluid or solid or gas OTHER than Hawaiian or Citrus or Ginger. Do you know what I think that smell actually smells like? Ron Burgundy’s balls.
Longing for Paradise,
p.s. Your razors rock. Maybe stick to razors.