
Soulless? Yep, I still 'debranded' my cosmetics
I am not a victim of branding – or at least that's what I like to tell myself. But does that reflect reality? An experiment is set to provide the answer.
Have you ever considered what your mouthwash would look like if you removed the label from the bottle? Or what if there wasn't a single piece of text on your mascara? Probably not. Why would you?
Well, the internet convinced me to try a self-experiment based on this thought experiment. With surprisingly relatable arguments.
Debranding explained
In so-called debranding, people remove all visible logos, brand names, or text elements from their everyday consumer goods. It is a form of silent protest against our consumer society. I first came across this curious concept in the context of slow beauty, a movement that focuses on the conscious consumption of products.


To clear up any misunderstandings: the debranding I am referring to is clearly distinct from the marketing strategy of the same name, where brands consciously simplify the visual identity of their designs.
So, the term is clarified. The question remains: why exactly would anyone go to this extra effort?
Why bother?
I found various answers on social media. I will briefly summarize the most frequently mentioned ones for you.
1. Function vs. sense of belonging
If you censor the brand, you reduce a product to its function. Especially with lifestyle brands like Rhode or Dior, which are also based on a strong identity-forming component, this effect is intended to reveal my true motives: Why did I buy the product in the first place? Do I just want to belong, or is it really just about the performance?
2. On principle against advertising fatigue
We are exposed to advertising around the clock. Debranding reduces the intrusive brand presence, at least at home. And: anyone who pulls out their powder compact or lipstick in public doesn't automatically become a free advertising billboard.


3. Visual decluttering
Labels, logos, information – these elements can look quite restless. In this context, there is often talk of "visual noise." Naked packaging is supposed to bring calm to the cupboard or the dresser.
I can see the merit in all these points. And the more I research the topic, the more I see it as a form of mindfulness exercise. One that is intended to shed new light on brand perception, consumer behavior, and our relationship with our possessions. Topics that have been occupying me for some time now.
So, I'm giving it a try.
Away with the logos – but how?
Three medicine cabinets, drawers, and sideboards full of products have to be stripped bare. Each piece of packaging comes with its own quirks and challenges.
Labels
Adhesive labels are the easiest to remove. I simply dip bottles and the like into warm water for a short time. The stickers can then be easily peeled off.

I remove residues with medicinal benzine, which was recommended to me by the pharmacist. And yes, I bought it specifically for this. Not really in the spirit of the exercise, but I had a choice: either I annoy myself for the next few weeks with the sticky surfaces OR I solve the problem cleanly from the start. At least I can use it in the future to remove price tag residues from my thrift store finds. Isopropanol is also said to work here. Keep your hands off acetone-based nail polish remover. It attacks the plastic.
Lettering
Printed lettering is stubborn. That's why I simply cover it up. With color-coordinated masking tape, washi tape, or occasionally with stickers. In some cases, several layers are necessary because the lettering still shines through. The good thing about this approach: it can be reversed. The disadvantage: it is wasteful.
Raised elements & embossing
Here, too, only a piece of adhesive tape helps. Like a censorship bar. If the elements are subtly embossed into the packaging, I leave them as they are.

Decanting
In a few cases, I transferred the contents of a package into another container.
Somehow, I imagined the process would be more fun. Instead, it was characterized by torn fingernails, questionable attempts, and finally, capitulation. In other words: I didn't give all my products a makeover. For various reasons:
- Despite conscious reduction, I still own many products. For time reasons, I limited myself to the most frequently used items.
- The final boss: cream tubes! Just the thought of wrapping them in tape and then squeezing them... It makes me shudder.
- Part of my job is to test products. It is important that labels and the like remain on them. For product images, information, and so on.
- Prestige brands. Caught. More on my shame below.

What do I get out of it?
Four weeks have passed since I started working on this. Have I learned anything – or was I just relieved of a lot of time and stickers?
Am I a brand victim or not?
Yes. And I hate to admit it. I debranded "unsexy" cosmetics (like shampoo or micellar water) and products from inexpensive brands (like Essence or The Ordinary) without batting an eye. But "ruining" prestige brands? I couldn't do it. I felt like I was stripping the product of its value. As if I were actively losing money if I messed with the design and the carefully curated brand image could no longer speak to me.
I am a little less critical of my restraint with the eyeshadow palettes of various indie brands: I kept my hands off them too. After all, they live from their mottos, illustrations, and lettering, for which I very consciously paid money.
Has my relationship with my products changed?
Oh yes! Objects that I have stripped of their brand now belong to me. Truly. It's hard to put the feeling into words. On the other hand, I now feel more distance from the expensive brands. Probably because they have more influence on me than I wanted to admit. It's almost as if they had their own lives and I were just an extra in them.
Does everything look tidier now?
I find a lot to like about the visual calm in the cupboard, shower basket, and so on. But there are also moments when I think: Wow, that looks lifeless. Almost as if you were scrolling through a stock photo gallery.


A final word
For me, this was a nice experiment that clearly showed me my brand awareness. However, I haven't noticed any profound changes in myself. Perhaps because I have been dealing with the topic of consumption for a long time. For visual reasons, I would still like to continue debranding. At least with hygiene products like shampoo, cleanser, etc.
Do you attach great importance to brands, or are you still unsure about your true purchasing motives? Then give it a try. You don't need to start a major campaign like I did. It's probably enough if you peel the branding off newly acquired products every now and then. Or if you consider before buying whether you would still be interested in the product if no one could associate it with its brand.
As a massive Disney fan, I see the world through rose-tinted glasses. I worship series from the 90s and consider mermaids a religion. When I’m not dancing in glitter rain, I’m either hanging out at pyjama parties or sitting at my make-up table. P.S. I love you, bacon, garlic and onions.
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