How The Ordinary perfected the art of medical minimalism

By Tom Vanderbilt

“Let the products sell themselves,” sang the Minutemen, an American punk band, in 1984 in a caustic screed against the “psychological methods” used to stimulate consumer appetite. Looking at The Ordinary, a skincare line produced by Deciem, a Canadian company, puts me in mind of the Minutemen’s slogan – and not just because The Ordinary sounds like the perfect name for a punk band. The company was launched by Brandon Truaxe, a mercurial industry outsider who was frustrated by marketing guff. So he took a more plain-speaking approach.

His products almost look as if they’re not meant to be sold. Rather than seductive bottles clamouring for consumer attention at a department-store beauty counter, they look like they belong in some austere Swiss mountain clinic run by professional pharmacists. Recalling Henry Ford’s mantra that he’d give a customer a car in any colour they wanted as long as it was black, The Ordinary’s packaging comes in three non-colours: white, black and grey. And whereas a competitor like Glossier deploys playful monikers such as “Balm Dotcom”, The Ordinary’s lotions and potions come with unmemorable titles like “Caffeine Solution 5% + EGCG” or “Ascorbic Acid 8% + Alpha Arbutin 2%”.