#1 - Davids premium natural toothpaste
What better way to kick off this ‘stack than, you guessed it, TOOTHPASTE. Love it or hate it, we all mostly use it, and in the early months of 2021 I’ve discovered my perfect match in David(s premium natural toothpaste).
My personal toothpaste journey might run parallel to yours: neon Stars and Stripes-colored Crest as a kid, Tom’s of Maine as a young adult (any/all varieties), and then, growing unsatisfied with the somewhat corporatized ubiquity of Tom’s, I made the jump in my early 30s to Desert Essence, their Tea Tree Oil & Neem variety in particular. Do I know what Neem is? I do not, but it makes me think of what the band-name Ween would look like upside-down, and it tastes terrible, so that’s good enough for me. Or at least it was, until I popped into the new “zero waste” store that opened near my house and felt compelled to buy something, which I guess probably creates more waste than if I were to not buy anything at all, but where’s the fun in that? A teeny bit of waste never hurt anybody, right? Next time, I’ll have to walk away with one of their attractive glass carafes filled to the brim with in-house unscented harm-free detergent, but for now I’m pleased as punch to be sitting here with my tube of Davids.
At first, it sat on my shelf for a couple weeks as I made my way through the remains of my final Desert Essence tube, and I couldn’t help but notice the bizarre messaging embossed on the packaging: “nature+america+you”. Huh? Nature, okay, I guess it’s kind of a natural toothpaste, so that checks out; America, well, yes, that’s where I live, but are you saying we should be inherently proud of this, David?; and you, well, yes, I’m the one using it, but I already knew that. What a terrible slogan! The emo all-lowercase format is befuddling - it looks like a Polyvinyl CD sampler from 2001 - as is the meek tugging of patriotic heartstrings. Honestly, I probably should’ve thrown it in the trash the moment I first realized what David was trying to sell me on, but that would’ve created far more waste than I’m comfortable with, and it was like twelve bucks or something, so let’s be real. It’s going in my mouth.
Anyway, the time finally came to crack the box, and in spite of their best marketing efforts, I did so excitedly. Davids comes in a classic aluminum tube, and is packaged with its own metal tube key to ensure a near-total evacuation. Nice touch! I suppose if I keep purchasing these, I’m going to amass a significant collection of tube-squeezers, but they’re almost certainly recyclable… or even better, I could pull up the contacts in my phone and start at the top, offering friends and family my surplus of tube keys. I went with the peppermint and charcoal variety (excuse me, “peppermint+charcoal”) and it’s exactly what I’m looking for in a toothpaste: smooth and mild, with a not-overpowering level of froth and a lingering freshness that Tom’s of Maine wishes he could provide. The paste itself is a calming shade of grey, which somehow adds an appealing level of androgyny lacking in most toothpastes; David seems to be looking toward the future with this particular formula, rather than dwelling in the past. My breath tastes less sour for longer (kind of an unappealing way to phrase it, but hopefully you know what I mean), and while I’m still not sold on the whole charcoal lifestyle (not everything inside my body was meant to be neutralized and absorbed), I’m willing to give charc-heads the benefit of the doubt.
So yeah, thumbs up for David, whoever he may be. I will say, however, that I was talking to a friend last week1 who told me that her whole family recently switched over to toothpaste tabs, those (jagged) little pills that you quickly crunch before brushing, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little intrigued. It’s quite possible that Davids Premium Natural Toothpaste might simply be another stop on my continued dental journey, as opposed to its final destination.
Yes, it came up in conversation because I decided to gush to her about Davids toothpaste too.