Warby Parker makes eyeglasses. They make inexpensive glasses, and whenever they make a pair for money, they also give one to a poor person.

Their site is mathematically beautiful and typographically pleasant. Their demeanor is strictly brazen—they are confident in their work. It’s inspiring.

A new pair of glasses arrive wrapped in a branded microfiber cloth, clamshelled in a burly case with a feminine, silky, rubbery texture, further held in a presentational branded cardboard box, wrapped up finally in shipping cardboard, sparing no space.

Warby draws out the suspense in unravelling a new pair of glasses. They worship presentation.

The case’s colors are a bit specific—obviously deliberate but specific. The exterior is gray. The interior is Warby’s blue, which they use on their promotional materials and website.

The frames are robust. They’re plastic, and they feel like plastic, but it’s a good plastic. It’s a precise plastic. There are no seams to burden your skin, and all of the curves are pure math. The lenses are plastic, which is sturdy for drops but not for scrapes. The matte on the sunglass frames isn’t matte how you’d think—not like birthday party sunglasses, not like street vendor sunglasses. It’s soft and deliberate. Even the hinges are matte.

Warby must be hemorrhaging cash on experience design.

Baxter makes soaps and candles. They care about packaging design and typography and authenticity and card stock. They care less about the web, though still much more than most. But their dopp bag is poor quality, feeling thin and scaly, with clunky stitches, pursing funny, looking lumpy and silly. And its branding is maybe ridiculous.

Don’t expect a brand that makes good leather to make good salad dressing.