The hotel toiletries not made for us

Hotel stays are ceremonious for me. No matter where in the world I am and where I have landed, there’s a familiar little hotel dance of sorts I always do. After checking-in, hoping whoever is at the front desk doesn’t say my room number or floor out loud (absolutely yes you should ask for another when this happens for safety reasons) and dragging my suitcase behind me, I know I’m preparing for the ultimate exhale. 

That deep soul sigh once you cross the threshold of a clean room with the air conditioning on cold humming in the background as hallelujah ambient noise. The maneuvering to take your shoes off immediately as to not drag airport dirt into your room. Finding the luggage rack and shoving your suitcase on top to where it shall remain wide open and a mess. 

And, of course, a quick glance into the bathroom to see the toiletries that will ultimately disappoint me. 

I’m a Black woman with dry, sensitive, eczema-laden skin. I travel with an arsenal of products to ensure I’m not ashy or on the verge of a flare-up without reinforcements: Innisfree products for my multi-step Korean skincare routine, an exfoliation cleansing brush, an African net for bathing (a lot of places don’t use washcloths as I also learned the hard, unfortunate way), my own soap. 

In a perfect world, I could check into a hotel anywhere on this planet and expect that the toiletries will be something I can actually use versus something I glance at, shake my head and place all my products on the bathroom counter to obstruct what is utterly useless. For those of us perpetually on the road or those of us who look to be on the road, chasing after the next high from seeing the world and being present in all the experiences left to have, wouldn’t it be nice to be thought of and accommodated? I’m musing on consideration—I wish Black travelers were considered as potential guests. 

Though this might seem like a niche, persnickety gripe, I’m not the first to wonder why we don’t have something as simple as hydrating lotions not filled with alcohol and toxin-laden scents, soaps that actually clean skin instead of drying them out or shower caps that are bigger than an average child’s head. And do we really need the cheapest hair dryer known to man taking up precious counter or drawer space? 

Back in June of 2018, my girl Emefa, a beloved mutual Twitter follower, wrote this pithy, four word tweet that later went viral. 

Gabrielle Union weighed in. Mindy Kaling did as well along with Halsey. All chiming in about their personal experiences. While Gabrielle cracked a joke about how hotel lotion makes her look ashy, Mindy shared that she takes a travel-sized Eucerin with her on every trip. And Halsey? She went off about the dehydrating shampoo and not enough conditioner for thicker hair. 

In my earliest days of jetsetting solo, I simply settled for dry skin and crunchy hair that couldn’t be easily remedied without a quick stop to a nearby convenience store or sussing out “where the Black people go” for products via the many Facebook Groups I am in for fellow travelers. I was young then. I didn’t have many standards for my self-care and physical upkeep.

But as you grow and mature, and as you continue to see the world racking up more passport stamps, things change. You change. Your comfort becomes just as paramount as ensuring that wherever you choose to travel to, you’ve picked a destination with intent for the things you like to see, do and experience. 

This was my long-winded way of saying that: I simply cannot afford to be as blithe in my approach to travel now. Despite knowing I have to stay ready so I don’t have to get ready, I have pondered for real solutions for something we often have to prepare for and deal with. What would it take for Black travelers and all of our needs as far as comfort on overnight stays to be genuinely considered? Consulting with Black brands to get deals for product placement? Market and demographic research for various hotel markets to determine which one should have these toiletries available for us? Caring enough on a basic level to not default to the white traveler in every instance? 

Other than bringing our own stuff, I think there are a few actionable things we do.  One is to support Black woman-owned business Black Travel Box. The founder, Orion Brown, was motivated to start her business selling various TSA-sized toiletries through the same frustrations I’ve faced while on the road. She makes it easy to bundle the products you need in smaller sizes for travel purposes. 

The other would be to embolden yourself to speak up on your next hotel stay. Send an email. Have a conversation with the GM if you’re feeling particularly bold. Maybe things never change but I’ve never seen any harm in expression for the sake of speaking my truth. The intent is not to be a warrior for a cause—but to think of our other Black sisters not suffering through being ashy as they, too, travel the world.