When I first arrived here, I needed to buy shaving cream. I was warned by my roommate David to just get the Gillette. It would match my Gillette Mach 3 razor, which incidentally almost all of my friends have because we were all mailed one upon turning 18. “No,” I said, “I’ll just get the cheaper, generic kind. It’s all the same anyway.” I was wrong. It’s gross and smells very alcohol-ly.
So when David noticed that I was stealing his toothpaste, I decided that I would not make the same mistake twice. I was in the grocery store, just about to reach for the Colgate, and then I saw it:
The clean, modernist packing cried out to me. The name reminded me of the street by that name in the next town over where I made at least five friends. I was intrigued to say the least. Here was a cheaper (€ .49), alternative toothpaste with a dynamic, yet dated look. In terms of the design, the clean primary colors, asymmetrical organization, and all-caps san-serif small type suggest Swiss influence. Not to mention the Swiss cross made out of white type on a red field with a tooth in the middle: how cute is that? However, the main type is far too blocky and imperfect to be Swiss. It reminds me more of Frank Lloyd Wright’s style, and is a bit more avant-garde looking. Anyway, the toothpaste is made in Milan and doesn’t taste incredible, but I think what I like most about it is that I really like looking at it, and there is literally no trace of it on the internet, which is weird and great. Colgate, you’re on notice.