The Rock, bald as an eagle, sells shampoo
An overconfidence has seeped into Hollywood as celebrities believe they can sell anything to rubes
Guess the year: Stephen Harper was PM. The iPad was released. Vancouver hosted the Winter Olympics. Arab Spring protests started. Instagram launched. Drum roll, please … 2010! According to my photographic investigation, 2010 was also the year Dwayne (The Rock) Johnson stopped using shampoo. Am I sure about that? No. It’s possible he kept a bottle of Herbal Essences in the shower for whimsical pits or groin lathering.
But I can’t find a photo of The Rock with hair, post-2010. So I assume this shaved, gleaming skull has led to 14 years of zero expenditures on Head & Shoulders. Makes sense. The Rock does not need shampoo any more than David Letterman needs a Gillette or Morgan Wallen needs throwable patio chairs.
Nevertheless, The Rock has a new line of men’s care products. This includes a “nourishing shampoo+conditioner” that comes in two scents. Rinse and repeat: The Rock is now selling shampoo.
What’s next? Will Stevie Wonder release a line of reading glasses?
The Lush Coconut 2-in-1 sells for a reasonable $12. It contains no parabens and phthalates, whatever those are, and is described as follows: “Like a luxury island escape — it’s fresh with coconut & vanilla, making you feel like you are on vacation in the sunshine even while you’re at home lathering up in your own shower.”
Then after towelling off, nibble a mooncake and pretend you are an astronaut.
It seems like every celebrity is now hawking a product line.
Gwyneth Paltrow’s “Goop.” Pharrell’s “Humanrace.” Harry Styles’ “Pleasing.” Kim Kardashian’s “SKIMS.” From Kendall Jenner to Eva Longoria, there are more tequila brands now in Hollywood than Jalisco. This evolutionary madness is inevitable years after Jessica Simpson pitched edible cosmetics or Sylvester Stallone tried to make pudding macho.
The Rock’s new product line is called “Papatui,” which is the sound you’ll make after the Enhancing Tattoo Balm ($14) irritates the dragon on your bicep. Papatui marketing blurbs are also vaguely keen on the ingredients they shun: “Our cleansers don’t have them.” “So we formulated without them.” “You don’t need them, so we don’t use them.”
But I don’t know what they are. My T-zone may need those sulphates! I’m reminded of a scene in “Red Notice,” a movie my daughters made me watch the other night. Nolan Booth (Ryan Reynolds) and John Hartley (Dwayne Johnson) are inmates preparing food in a prison commissary.
Booth suddenly glances at Hartley and sarcastically asks, “Why are you wearing a hairnet? You’re bald.”
Let me be clear: The Rock is an unstoppable cultural force. From pro wrestler to A-list actor, he can do anything. He’s under pressure to run for president.
And you know what? He’d probably win.
He also glows. His skin somehow looks as rugged as an outfielder’s glove and as soft as a newborn gerbil. So it makes sense for the global superstar to offer his male admirers a Hydrating Facial Cleanser ($14) or Enriching Bar Soap ($12), which promises to remove all sweat and grime and leave a lingering hint of sandalwood suede. How lovely!
(After I’m done, remind me to buy the Awakening Eye Gel.)
But The Rock, bald as an eagle, is now selling shampoo?
You want to know what’s going on here? For most of this century, celebrities have watched with envy as other celebrities mint a fortune by slapping their boldface names on random products. Now a spirit of overconfidence has seeped into the la-la-land ether as celebs believe they can sell anything to rubes. They are convinced their personal brands are cash cows.
The tragic result is headlines this week such as, “Dwayne Johnson shocks fans after releasing a men’s shampoo: ‘He can’t even vouch for the product.’ ”
Of course he can’t vouch for the product! This hulk of a man hasn’t lathered his scalp since the Burj Khalifa opened in 2010. If you handed The Rock a bottle of Pantene, he’d think it was an energy drink and chug before doing 500 chin-ups.
The Rock is to shampoo as Conan O’Brien is to tanning beds.
But it’s this marketing overconfidence that is going to usher in an era of bizarre celebrity products. As I recall, Julia Fox’s apartment is a pigsty. This can only mean she will soon strike a deal with Procter & Gamble and release an all-purpose cleaner called, “Mrs. Clean.” Just wait until JoJo Siwa eyes the retro toy market and releases a YoYo ForYa.
The Rock? Come on, man. Now you’re just being greedy. Your face is already on mugs and shirts. You have sold ice cream and a “Project Rock” line with Under Armour. You have your own tequila brand. What you don’t have is hair.
Please stop selling us shampoo — the absurdity is making our eyes sting.