In the past few months, I’ve rediscovered Avon products.
A woman I know, a busy Mom of two who’s also attending university part-time, sells the skin care and make-up line. The quality is good, the prices are reasonable and it’s delivered right to my door. Plus I love catalogue shopping!
Last night she dropped by with a delivery of a couple of make-up items and a skin cream for the ol’ “over 40” set. It’s not supposed to make me over into a supermodel but just give my face a good drink and a few other things it needs so it doesn’t sag below my chin too soon. But here’s the kicker. I can’t read the label.
The name of the product in its lovely logo is centred among acres of blank space on the label. And on the back of the jar, in microscopic flea-sized printing, are the ingredients and directions. As of this moment, I may have actually slathered on salamander poop that will eat away at my pores because of applying it too soon after washing. I have no way of knowing!
It’s gotten to the point where I need glasses to read anything. The lenses are among the lowest strength. I just need a bit of magnification. Hey, it happens. But to pop on my specs and STILL not be able to make out what’s on the label of a product that’s meant for me? What about a woman my age (or, heck, five years younger!) with worse eyesight? She could lose a nose!
I know what older women are thinking: Welcome to the dawn of the era where No One Cares What You Think. At some point, a person has to face facts that they’re not in the youth movement anymore and this planet cares only about the young. But for goodness sake, if a company is going to make products for a certain vintage of people they ought to at least consider the predictable needs of that demographic. Like, oh, I dunno, let’s say, wanting to actually see the directions!