I had to give it a try. At least a taste. I bought one of the bottles. It looked like a bottle of expensive salad dressing. I had low expectations. It tastes like vitamins and smells worse. As for my skin . . . I think I look OK. Who knows if GLOWELLE had anything to do with it though.
I've spent the last few weeks researching and pounding out a Marketing class paper on GLOWELLE. It's a "beauty drink" recently launched by Nestle. Believe it or not, this was a subject of my own choosing. Anyone who knows me might ask, why would a guy choose to write about something sold at the cosmetic counter at Neiman Marcus when he a) doesn't carry a comb, b) frequently conducts a sniff test of his clothes to determine their cleanliness, and c) considers shaving a weekly activity? Aren't cosmetics or "nutraceuticals" out of his milieu?
I ran across the product from a tweet and was fascinated by the concept of "drink in pretty." Their marketing is effective. It caught my attention. It is also a brand new product (the class assignment was to write about a product launched in the past year). For me, the appeal is that it is marketed as a drink not as vitamins. The bottle may say "dietary supplement," but the promotional copy and images position it as a fruity drink.
GLOWELLE costs a lot. Its sold exclusively at Neiman Marcus, aka Needless Markup. An 8 oz. ready-to-drink bottle goes for $7. That's a one day supply. You may have thought your coffee habit was expensive, but even your $5 Caribou smoothie looks like a bargain in comparison. The weekly and monthly powder forms go for $40 and $112 respectively. If you buy Nestle's pitch, i.e. drinking GLOWELLE will make you well . . . glow, the powder costs about half as much. But that still leaves you with an investment of over a grand a year. I doubt I'll buy another bottle.