'Concentrated' is the new Black

So last week when I was out being awesome, I realised that I was out of laundry powder. This is a big thing for me because not only do I do my own washing (oh my god), but I get to browse the aisles of my local supermarket and attempt to get the finest laundry powder available. I usually fail.

Why, you ask? Well because if you haven't figured it out yet, the laundry powder section is pretty much the same goddamned thing packaged 800 times over. And because it's POWDER and not a toothbrush, they just can't slam in some bullshit gimmick like a tongue scraper or subsonic telepathy. They need to sell their white powder by the packaging alone.

Yes, Yes and More Yes.

Notice how pretty much every laundry powder you can buy is now concentrated? You only need to use one poof-teenth of a thimble to cleanse every garment in your house! As opposed to... a picture of a cap with... more in it. Concentrated as opposed to what? Since everything is concentrated now, shouldn't that be the norm? And don't give me that "But some are stronger than others" bullshit either. Laundry powder is like bottled water - no matter the brand, it all comes from one giant tap in a factory operated by a tiny mexican lady with a clipboard and a pair of goggles.

Look how white her clothes are! SCIENCE.

Packaging white powder for purchase in a supermarket is the most cliche thing I have ever seen. Outside of 'Concentrated!' your laundry powder box will either have:

a) the word "Power" on it somewhere
b) 'FRESH' written in huge letters
c) an unexplained explosion, probably of the aforementioned freshness
d) a duck.

I for one am issuing a challenge to laundry powder manufacturers everywhere. Be inventive! How about submarines? Everyone loves those. 'Now works better on bloodstains!' could work too. How about 'Doesn't smell like beer and cigarettes'?

In fact, why even pretend your product is even designed for clothes? If I ever start a laundry powder company, I'll simply name my product 'CRACK'. The box will have an illustration of laundry powder being snorted off the back of a barely-conscious hooker while she desperately tries to finish her last cigarette. Housewives will hate it but it would be funny to see junkies try to rationalise why it's only $2.50 a box.