Many years ago, my family discovered a secret about the Grand Wailea: amongst all their wonderful amenities, none managed to surpass the quality of their in-room body wash. A good product and a great one are worlds apart, and until recently, the Honey Mango scrub was one of the best. I want to take a moment to appreciate what it was and honor a beautiful work by observing its passing.
Three things made the body wash an excellent product: it smelled phenomenal, it lathered well, and it had a shining amber color. Combined, these qualities made the exclusive wash not just the best in terms of performance—cleaning dirt and imbuing scent—but also in terms of operation. It was fun. I have fond memories of carrying the nuclear-orange bottle home from the package center and watching it glint in the sun. I enjoyed smelling like Maui every day.
This was the deal—quality for inconvenience. For half a decade, we would trade money (in literal cost) and time (in slow shipping to the mainland) for a superior product from their online store. We were happy with the arrangement; not compromising on little, day-to-day experiences compounds and happiness is a good deal at any price. I am grateful for the years of excellent body wash in a way that most readers will likely find ridiculous.
It wasn’t to last. Last year, the product line suffered a refresh. Each of its finest aspects was decimated: the smell was less sweet, the lather unimpressive, and the color—now hidden behind dark blue plastic—approached transparent. But the consultants who had made a mockery of this wonderful soap did not stop there. They found new insults. The 32oz size, the most economical option, was eliminated. And the new pump was designed with a sharp edge that sliced my fingers repeatedly. This last offense in particular seemed an omen. I conferred with my dad, who revealed that he had also cut his fingers on a bottle of the scrub, and we came to a solemn conclusion: it was time to move on.
I do not expect I will find something quite as magical as the original soap anytime soon. But I have found a replacement: a lather as good—if not better—than the original, a slightly inferior scent and color, and a much improved retail experience. It will do.
A soap may seem too trivial a thing to memorialize. But what is a life but a compendium of little wonders? This was one of mine.