Before I knew it, I had spent 35 minutes in the shampoo aisle on Sunday afternoon, desperately weighing my options. The trouble for me with shampoo isn't choosing the one that will make my hair sleeker, shinier or more "volumized." I just take a long time trying to find the shampoo that insults my intelligence the least.

I'm not sure exactly when or why hair care products started tweaking their fashion marketing with a heavy dose of pseudo science, but the cosmetics aisle at Walgreens now features a unique blend of traditional feminine hard sells and snake oil alchemy.

After 20 minutes of indecision, I held two options in my hands. Avalon Organics brand Lavender shampoo promised to nourish my hair with "the rich, oat nutrition of Beta Glucan" and the added benefits of Vitamin E, Panthenol and Arginine. In the other hand was Garnier Fructis conditioner, stocked with "nutritive fruit micro-oils." Both of these options are better than the current shampoo in my shower, whose insipid back label had driven me to the store in the first place: "I'll fight for your right to smooth hair with my nourishing formula with anti-frizz potion fused with mandarin balm & pearls."

Fruit micro oils? Rich oat nutrition? They are not even being discreet about making up ingredients! All this labeling tweaks the feminist parts of my brain with the thought that these companies assume I'll be bowled over by their intelligent-sounding voodoo. Worse, a recent article in Bitch totally detailed how, thanks to limp government oversight, many cosmetics have high concentrations of lead and other toxic chemicals. Not only are shampoo companies co-opting scientific language they assume I won't understand, the actual ingredients are pretty sinister.

According to an alternative medicine website, the Avalon Organic's Arginine can produce nitric oxide, which may help prevent atherosclerosis and erectile dysfunction. Uh, is this really what I want to be massaging into my scalp?

Finally, I decide to go for the most straight forward, anti-science brand there is: Doctor Bronner's "Magic Soaps." Their label doesn't purport to be scientific or sexy. Or even sane. Manufactured by the charismatic, New Age-raving-German Dr. Emmanuel Bronner, the Magic Soap promises to "clean body-mind-soul-spirit instantly uniting One!" If I'm going to be paying for a product that's just making shit up, I'd at least have it be sincere.