And now, at a specialty store near you, regard the leading-edge indicator of consumer chic in America, the brilliant new vehicle for environmental correctness, health consciousness and graphic self-expression: toothpaste.
Toothpaste?
OK, this is not just toothpaste; this is status toothpaste. A rainbow coalition of imported and domestic varieties, offering everything in the way of ingredients like birch extract and anise oil, is nibbling its way to the front of the shelves at drugstore boutiques, upscale health-food emporiums, carriage-trade purveyors and department stores with an attitude.
”It`s definitely a trend,” said Joyce Bresa, general manager of Caswell-Massey`s flagship store in Manhattan.
Sales of specialty toothpaste ”are at least 25 percent higher than a year ago,” she said.
Toothpaste is no longer, as inventory professionals might put it, just an oral-cleansing product. As Bresa sees it, America is reeling from all the bad news, hiding out at home from the economic crisis. ”People are looking for the reassurance of simple pleasures these days,” she said. ”They`re spending money on simple luxuries they can afford, instead of all the luxuries they can`t.”
Like toothpaste. You know, instead of the trip to an alpine ski resort.
Tell the tooth
To be sure, some people are buying specialty toothpastes out of an abiding commitment to health consciousness or a real concern for the environment.
Many nontraditional pastes advertise that they contain no harmful chemicals or whiteners, that they are not tested on animals and that their packaging is made of recyclable materials.
Other consumers ”are tired of typical American toothpaste,” said Giorgio DeLuca, a founder of Dean & DeLuca in Manhattan, which, despite its mission as specialty food purveyor, has been selling imported toothpaste of late.
”American brands are too sweet and too pepperminty,” DeLuca said.
”People are switching to toothpastes that might more delicately round out a good meal.” Aha: toothpaste as digestif.
To Americans reared on minty flavors, the new toothpastes offer anise-flavored accents (think of Sambuca or licorice), or those of sage, arnica or thyme.
A word of caution
Be warned, though, that some exotic toothpastes may be under scrutiny by the Food and Drug Administration. Toothpastes that use FDA-approved ingredients can be marketed as cosmetics without elaborate oversight.
But others, which make health claims based on fluoride compounds or whitening agents, are considered over-the-counter drugs, and may need approval before they can be marketed, said Sharon Snider, a spokeswoman for the agency. The imported and health-food toothpastes have not won the Seal of Acceptance of the Council on Dental Therapeutics of the American Dental Association. Dr. Kenneth H. Burrell, director of the council, said the 140,000-member association has not issued warnings against foreign or health- food toothpastes but none have earned the seal, which has been given to 25 American toothpastes for their decay-fighting properties.
Supplying the long-range clinical studies required by the association can cost $100,000 to $1 million and approval can take 6 to 18 months, Burrell said, and many foreign and health-food makers do not have the resources, or see the need, to apply.
He said that although fluoride toothpastes offer the best decay prevention, even nonfluoride imports and health-food pastes can reduce plaque and gum disease. But many buyers have a different point-of-sale motivation. For them, it all comes down to . . . well, decorating.
For those to whom toothpaste is as much a lifestyle statement as the Lexus in the driveway or the Swiss coffee grinder on the kitchen counter, the trusty standup Crest pump has gotten a bit long in the tooth.
You are what you brush. Or at least you are what you exhibit on the sink by the medicine chest.
