An Open Letter To Aveeno

To Whom it May Concern:

As a long-time user of Aveeno products, it pains me to part ways with your brand. As of this morning’s shocking revelation, I see no other option at hand. This morning, I went through my normal routine. I woke up at 7. I re-woke at 8. I rolled myself out of bed, landed hard upon the floor, shook off any brain damage, checked the clock, sprinted towards the bathroom door. I then turned on the shower (found that perfect place between tepid and hot), stepped in, shampoo’d, conditioned, all was well…or so I thought.

I looked with loving anticipation at the next step on my path: your Aveeno Stress Relief Body Wash with Lavender, Chamomile and Ylang Ylang. Oh, how I loved your product! A gel to calm my anxious bones! How the sweet scents of lavender clouded my fear of talking to people on phones! And the ylang-ylang! Don’t get me started. The scent! The calming undertones! As if the word weren’t joyfully yo-yo-like enough, it called for me to stem my woes of whether my Facebook was a help or a hindrance. “You’re building your braaaaaand,” ylang-ylang cooed. I smiled. So I was!

And so I lost myself, Aveeno. I lost myself and I relaxed. I relaxed until that fateful moment when everything changed. My dreamworld collapsed. Because I, Claire Ayoub, got your Aveeno “Stress Relief” Body Wash in my eye and I, Claire Ayoub, did NOT remain calm.

Contrary to your product’s false promises, I did not lose myself in a garden of peace. I was not soothed. I was not happy. I felt a forest fire on my FACE. And WORSE than the burning sensation was a deeper sense of shame. A shame on YOU for your betrayal. What deception! Moral decay! After nearly half a decade as a fervent believer in and champion of your body wash products, here I was, debilitated. I wept in that shower, Aveeno. I wept for you. I wept for me. I wept for us and what we could have been, for ylang-ylang and chamomile, for sweet lavender, defiled. No matter our history together, Aveeno, this breach of trust cannot be reconciled.

Now if you’ll please excuse me, I must pen a letter to Gillette. I cut my leg with my Venus razor and — contrary to their goddesses — bled.

Disappointingly yours,

Claire E. Ayoub.

You can read more from Claire Ayoub on her blog.

Featured image via.