Good morning. When products we love are discontinued, sometimes the absence feels personal.
Out of stockThe Wirecutter editor Alexander Aciman stalks eBay for bottles of a discontinued lavender-scented aftershave once made by Crabtree & Evelyn because it was a favorite of his father in the 1990s. “I mainly try to find it so as not to lose the scent and preserve some kind of access to it,” he told my colleague Steven Kurutz recently. I haven’t been able to get Steven’s story, “When They Stop Selling Your Favorite Thing,” out of my head. I understand the motivations of the slightly demented enthusiasts he spoke with: the woman who compared her ardor for Pantene Nutrient Blends Miracle Moisture Boost Rose Water Petal Soft Hair Treatment — last manufactured in 2023 — to a heroin addiction, the die-hards who stockpile Tab cola in their basements. They’re resale-site paleontologists, hunting down the final incarnations of vanishing species. They’ve found the perfect manifestation of a face cream or a laptop bag, and they’re not about to let a little thing like that product’s discontinuation keep them from obtaining the object of their desire. Every style of underwear I have ever loved has been discontinued, occasioning yearslong searches for any remaining pair I can sweet-talk a kindly Dillard’s department store salesperson into unearthing from cold storage. I once wrote so desperate a love letter to the manufacturer of a discontinued lip balm that the company sent me the last remaining dregs of the product from the lab, scraped into a jar. There are many good reasons for a company to stop making a product. Just because you love it doesn’t mean it’s selling well. But still, when you find the perfect specimen — what on beauty-product discussion boards they call your “holy grail” or “HG” — the manufacturer discontinuing it feels like a personal betrayal. You’ve been unfailingly loyal to a hand soap or a style of wool crew socks and have been repaid with, well, it’s probably melodramatic to call it “abandonment,” but it’s definitely inconvenient, if not a little rude. How dare they mess with your carefully calibrated skin care routine! We have a lot of decisions to make each day. It’s a relief to lock in on a makeup shade or moisturizer or style of underwear that just works: Here’s one thing I don’t have to decide, here’s a problem that’s already been solved, some friction eased. We expect that we’ll change before the product does, that we’ll outgrow it and only then turn our attention to the wilds of the marketplace to find a new brand, a new HG. I wrote a few months ago about holding onto things less tightly, about being more OK with losing things. I think love of the hunt for the discontinued item can be reconciled with acceptance that the hunt will eventually dead-end. I know people who buy multiples of a thing that they love the moment they discover it, planning ahead for the day when that thing’s no longer available. While I understand the impulse, I think this might be too extreme for me. I currently have an underwear style I like, and I have enough pairs to last one laundry cycle. Yes, it’s nice and convenient to have your thing, but it’s also nice to not have a thing at all. When the style’s discontinued, which I know from experience should happen pretty soon, I’ll scour the internet for it and then, hopefully, gracefully move on to the next.
Immigration
More Politics
OTHER BIG STORIES
Film and TV
Art
More Culture
Subscribe Today The Morning highlights a small portion of the journalism that The New York Times offers. To access all of it, become a subscriber with this introductory offer.
|
