Go Native

A variety of Native Deodorant

So when does a person go from being a collector of things she loves only to morph into a full-blown obsessive compulsive?

I think I’m there.

If you read my blog with any degree of regularity, you know I’m an aesthete. As in, I like things around me to be beautiful, whether it’s carpet, or a view, or music. But don’t be fooled. Aesthetes can find beauty in the most unlikely of places.

Like under our arms.

I was in CVS one day, waiting for a prescription for my son, and I was browsing the female deodorant aisle. Same old light blue roll-ons, nothing new to see here.

Until there was.

“Pray tell, what is this,” I asked myself, as I picked up the white chalky tube, “this, this, unassuming little tube?” Coconut and vanilla, said the cheeky font.

Native deodorant. Hmm, I thought. I didn’t have my wallet, and only enough cash for the prescription, but I vowed to one day return and purchase that beautiful oblong white tube. And I did. I bought two scents that day, and another two scents a day later. Then I found some more scents in Walgreens, and then I hit the mother lode in Target.

I now own nine Native deodorant scents.

I know what you’re thinking.

Oh, now she has this fancy blog, and if she advertises for Native deodorant, they’ll pay her.

Well, maybe. But it’s not why I’m blogging about it. The picture is plain as day, and if you go right now and follow my IG account #chrys_aliscollective, once I have ten followers I will post a picture of my deodorant collection there to prove to the world that I actually use it.

I’m gaga over Native deodorant. I love the white tube, the sans serif font of the word “Native,” and how the color of the font corresponds to the scent of the tube. I love the scents. They’re so fun, and sexy, and mysterious. Vanilla & Sandalwood. Bergamot & Pine. Sea Salt & Cedar. Charcoal.

They use only clean ingredients, and they are cruelty-free. Here’s the website, don’t take it from me:

https://www.nativecos.com

Make everything in life an experience. Even deodorant.   

Thanks Go Daddy

small logo of Chrysalis Collective

So I’m reading this book on marketing websites, and it seems I have broken two cardinal rules of choosing a domain. 

First, I did not use a “.com.”

Pribyl warns me to not overestimate my readers’ IQs. That even if you log in once, you’ll default to “.com” the next time because it’s second nature, and you’ll never find me again. But isn’t that what autofill is for? Once you’re following, you don’t need to type the whole URL in, it’ll just pop up. I mean, sheesh.

Anyway, if typing in the letters O-R-G instead of C-O-M are that taxing on you, we wouldn’t get along anyway. Go read a cereal box. I mean, good things are worth it, right? 

Oh, and the “.com” version, while being strangely non-existent, was also ironically taken. Not by a website, but by some dumb schmuck who decided to buy it for ten bucks, then try to sell it to me for 8K. Yeah, right. And since I had already become emotionally attached to The Chrysalis Collective, I wasn’t about to try and bond with another domain.

And with that, chrysaliscollective.org was born. I went from the dot com world of posting about mani-pedis and artichoke dip, to the dot org world, where we have podcasts, help the homeless, and solve world hunger. 

It’s a lot of pressure, but I’m up for it. 

(I’ll still be blogging about fun stuff, too). 

The second thing the book suggests is to choose a short and easy-to-spell domain. Again, for the IQ-challenged.

Ruh-roh.

My domain name is obviously not short. And as far as spelling, I’m a fantastic typist, and even I have trouble manipulating the consonant blend of “c-h-r-y-s.” My fingers kinda fumble over the keys. Ah well. Again, autofill.

But since The Chrysalis Collective is devoted to change and all the mess that change embraces, and since my tagline is “Be You Now,” I steadfastly refuse to dumb down my URL for my readers. My readers are smart, educated, and passionate, and enjoy the finer things in life. And they certainly won’t be deterred away from provocative award-winning content by a few measly letters. That’d be like dying of thirst in the desert with only three steps to go towards a pitcher of ice-cold water, and deciding it’s not worth it and turning around.

Don’t be a silly goose. And yes, I just compared my website content to ice-cold water in the desert. 

Welcome to The Chrysalis Collective.