On The Ordinary Selling Discount Eggs

"When brands insert themselves into essential services, they’re not just filling a gap - they’re redefining the terms of necessity."

If you thought The Ordinary was just about no-frills acids and budget-friendly serums, think again. The budget friendly skincare label recently launched a temporary pop-up in New York selling eggs at “reduced” prices - just as American egg costs soared due to an avian flu outbreak. On the surface, you might even call it corporate altruism, but it doesn’t take a genius (or maybe it does?) to see that it’s nothing more than a marketing gimmick dressed up as community care.

Egg prices in the U.S. have hit record highs, with a dozen going for up to $12. You know, it’s dire when Americans began smuggling eggs from Mexico, yes, eggs. And no, I’m not making this up. Who would’ve thought there would be a day where Americans would be smuggling in eggs for breakfast from Mexico? The fact that a basic grocery item has become borderline luxury in one of the richest countries in the world is wild.

So when The Ordinary set up a trendy, minimalist pop-up to sell discounted eggs, it was hailed online as “heroic” and “community-minded.”  In reality, this was less an act of solidarity than a slick PR move. A move, the internet calls “causewashing,” where brands align themselves with social issues not to effect change, but to build emotional capital.

In her book No Logo, Naomi Klein warned of brands that blur the lines between corporate identity and public good, she writes, “Once a brand becomes a container for meaning, it becomes almost irrelevant what the company actually makes.” Maybe it’s a stretch, or maybe not, but is this what is kinda happening here? The Ordinary isn’t just selling serums anymore.

I’ve been thinking a lot about beauty brands and the role they perform in our lives, especially as the relationship between brands and customers becomes more intimate. In 2025, brands aren’t just selling us products - they’re selling community, belonging, and even moral alignment, apparently. They’re positioning themselves as our companions, our therapists, and I know this sounds extreme and our saviours. So perhaps it’s no surprise that a skincare company is now stepping in to help us put food on the table, well at least temporarily, for a weekend.

With a move like this, there was always going to be some backlash. I’ve seen online commentary pointing out the contradiction of a vegan, cruelty-free brand selling animal products. Yes but also, is that really what is wrong with this campaign? Why are we not talking about how a beauty brand is taking advantage of a real crisis, to score a few more customers. Am I totally missing the point, because the more I think about it, the more I feel angry? It’s gross, a brand capitalising on a real issue impacting so many real people. 

Of course, this isn’t the first time a brand has inserted itself into a crisis. I remember during the early days of the pandemic, luxury fashion houses were making hand sanitisers and face masks. Now, beauty brands are positioning themselves as our saving graces in the grocery aisle. What is even self promotion and what is solidarity or campaigning anymore?  It's all so murky, what won’t brands do for marketing? 

The Ordinary’s campaign is a textbook case of crisis marketing (I say this as an expert from TV education). It’s reactive, short-term, and symbolic. The pop up ended, and guess what egg prices are still high. Nothing about this has addressed the structural causes of grocery inflation. It hasn't done anything to  support food producers, or challenge the factors driving the crisis and nothing for food inequality.  What it did do is generate buzz, engagement, and a very shareable image of goodwill.

The Ordinary isn’t responsible for fixing America’s broken food system, I KNOW THIS. But that’s what makes this feel so bleak - why are we in a position where a beauty brand can manipulate a food crisis to their advantage? The system is so broken, where governments should be stepping in, we have brands cosplaying as systemic heroes. 

You know this is not the end, I can imagine boardrooms going absolutely crazy for this, what other social crisis can they exploit to their advantage. It’s scary, and so icky, to think about what could be next - beauty brands offering therapy with every mascara sale or abortions with your toners?  When brands insert themselves into essential services, they’re not just filling a gap, they’re redefining the terms of necessity.

Who gets to play the heroes and the villains in our world now seems to hinge less on action and more on who can make the loudest noise on social media. And currently, The Ordinary are the ultimate heroes.

I don’t want to rely on a beauty brand to provide me with basic necessities - especially not as part of a sly marketing campaign. If they were pushing for real change with real impact, I wouldn’t be writing this article. And forgive me, if The Ordinary is doing something behind closed doors that hasn’t been publicly shared, but when it's so clearly about optics, we shouldn't be putting them on a pedestal. 

This isn’t really about The Ordinary, it’s about how capitalism relentlessly rebrands crisis as opportunity. And while a skincare pop-up selling eggs might make for a viral moment, a better world would be one where breakfast doesn’t depend on the marketing moves of your favourite beauty brand.

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