The result: well, let's just say that someday I might actually send in this letter:
Dear
KissMyFace,
My
search for a wonderful “natural” sunscreen, IE one that uses a physical
(mineral) barrier rather than a chemical one, has not gone well.
I have
small children, and I want to find something that will be safe for them to use
for years to come.
I
started out with Consumer Reports’ recommendation, and ordered some Eco. It all
came expired. I’m talking, watery, cottage-cheezey grossness. I got my money
back, but I needed something sooner rather than later, and the supplier had to
wait for a new shipment, so on went my search.
Next I
tried a local store which carries Green Beaver sunscreen. Let me just mention
that Green Beaver could also be called Greasy Beaver. Oh god, that sounds
awful. Maybe Green Butter would be better. Because, let me tell you, it’s like
putting on butter, it’s so greasy. It works on the kids, though.
On a
recent road trip, I left it at the place I was staying while out on a day
excursion, so I stopped at a local store and bought the only sunscreen that
they carried, KissMyFace. I picked some up for both my kids and for myself.
The
first KMF sunscreen I tried out was the kid’s stuff. The application started
out fine, but then holy cow, my kid looked like he had a really bad case of
dandruff. Or maybe he was molting in a horrible fashion. Wow does that stuff
ever flake up! It made me wonder, is it all rubbing off, or is that just excess
balling up and I’m using too much? Maybe I’ll stick to the buttery Green Beaver
on the baby so that nothing flakes into his eyes. . . .
Next, I
applied the adult version, which, by the way, and since it’s your product, you
should know, reads right on the tube: “Blends in Clear!” Whose opinion is that?
That intern in your office who lurks behind the Ficas and looks like she’d
actually fit in better in Forks, WA because she’s a vampire? Or maybe it’s the
new guy in marketing who has a secret zombie fetish. Or maybe the clown that
was at your six-year-olds’ birthday party used it and said that it was freaking
awesome and that he couldn’t even notice it on.
Seriously,
the only people who’d EVER think that KMF Sunscreen blends in clear, are the
people whose skin is a pastier white than my glaring white ass. Like vampires,
zombies and clowns, and maybe theatre people.
Oh sure,
everyone wants to be a source of joy to people versus a bane, but now, until I
can find something better I’m stuck being laughed at by all my friends. They
laugh at me every time they see me. You know, they look at me, and laugh, and
then they turn to redirect their wayward child, and then they turn back and
look at me again, and laugh again, and then they walk by me on the way to the
water and laugh at me some more.
So then
I go into the water thinking that some of it will rinse off, and sure it does,
but now it looks worse because it’s beaded up into tiny white balls, most of
which have accumulated along the hairlines. You know, the actual hairline, and
along my eyebrows, so I kind of look, well, I’d fucking laugh at me if I were
someone else and I saw me looking like a total idiot who got “pied” and didn’t
quite get it all wiped off.
Anyway,
I could go on and on, but it sounds like the kids are actually asleep enough
for me to go to bed, so I’ll cut it off here.
I’ll
just say that I will NEVER buy KMF sunscreen again. Ever. I’ll take the Buttery
Greasy Green Beaver over the Flakey Pasty KissMyFace. It has a higher zinc
content anyway (and I think worked better anyway), and no titanium dioxide,
which might be your problem with the ghost effect your product has.
No
wonder it was on sale.
Sincerely,
A Person
who won’t even let KMF KMA.
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