Dear product consumer,

Hi, it’s me. That big tub of vaseline that’s been sitting in the bottom of your bathroom drawer. Look, we need to talk.

I feel like you’ve been kind of distant lately. Hanging out with those new fancy ass moisturizers and toners you bought on sale at Sephora. Hell, I even heard a rumor that you bought a pack of face masks made out of a German snail’s bodily waste. All while you’ve just tossed me off to the side as if I’m nothing, as if our time spent together meant nothing to you at all.

I know that the others—Burt's Bees, Drunk Elephant, The Ordinary—have been telling you dirt behind my back. That I’m nothing but an oily, acne-causing hack of jelly. But do you want me to tell you something? Those guys—like that German snail—are full of shit.

Sure, they’ve got the exterior factors. They’ve got the cute pastel dyes in shades like “peachy pink” instead of “foot fungus” yellow; they’ve got the cherry lavender scent instead of that “highway gasoline” scent. It’s adorable really.

But do you know why I don’t need that cute aesthetic? Because while I may be a pile of gunk, I get the job done motherfucker.

Cracked hands? Be gone.

Dry skin? Silky smooth.

Broken leg? Healed.

Ant infested homes? Not anymore.

Climate change? Never heard of her.

Global pandemic? I. DON’T. THINK. SO.

Because guess what? I am the duct tape of skincare and I can fix any problem you have.

Those guys like to brag about themselves, about how sustainable they are in their cute glass packaging and what wonderful ingredients they have. But hyaluronic acids and retinoids? Sis, move over. Here, we play with the big guns: straight-up petroleum jelly locked and loaded in a big ass plastic tub. I slice through cow meat while sealing burns. I cook dinner while fighting termites. I’d like to see a Drunk Elephant try to do all that.

Those skincare guys like to sponsor Gen-Z beauty influencers with nice bone structures. They’re fan favorites among millennial beauty influencers who have never had a pimple in their lives. On the other hand, I am the fan favorite among soccer moms and podiatrists; I have reliable, ordinary consumers. I support the common working person unlike those other elitist skincare brands.

On top of reliable customers, I’m affordable. Can you believe that? You can purchase 13 oz of me for $4.29. That’s enough Vaseline to make you concerned why someone would ever need 13 oz of Vaseline. That’s cheaper than a Chipotle burrito. That’s the equivalent cost for Burt's Bees Renewal Firming Moisturizing Cream, and do you want to know how many ounces those bees give you? ONE. POINT. EIGHT.

In short, no other brand of skincare can do what I can. They can’t give you the bargain of a price I give you. They can’t moisturize your face in a thick layer of unbreathable cream while also clearing termites out of your home. But I can. I am superior to all other skincare products, and you will only ever need me. So please, burn all of your other skincare products. If you get burn wounds, don’t worry, I can fix you right up.

With love,

Vaseline