We used to be taught a simple logic: expensive equals good quality.

We get what we pay for. If it’s pricey, there must be a reason.

Back in the days when information wasn’t transparent, that logic more or less held up. But that’s no longer how the game is played.

Once everything was laid bare by the internet, the ones truly being educated weren’t consumers learning how to choose, but dishonest sellers learning how to deceive.

How to pass off inferior goods as premium. How to sell counterfeits as “high-end.” How to push luxury-brand marketing language all the way down to street-side breakfast stalls selling fried dough.

A one-dollar item, with nicer packaging and a half-decent story, can easily be sold for tens.

Recently, I bought a Dior face cream. For someone who’s gone centuries without skincare, this was already a generous concession at least I didn’t just grab a bottle of QV and call it a day.

The result? I applied it once, and the next day my face was red and swollen. The scent was strange too that forced attempt at “floral.” One sniff and I know: this is not a flower.

In that moment, I wasn’t angry. I was… confused.

Because a brand is supposed to be a form of trust. We’re not just paying money, we’re handing over our power of choice.

But in an age driven by profit, even “expensive” is no longer a guarantee. I genuinely started wondering whether this jar contained more chemicals than conscience.

That’s when it became clear: the world today isn’t about “paying more to be safer.” It’s about the fact that no price can stand in for discernment.

Trust is no longer written on the price tag. It’s written in how our own skin responds.



—— XC Scribbles · 伍拾柒 LVII 🧴