OKAY Pure Naturals – Himalayan Pink Salt Natural Stone

“84 Charing Cross Road”

This isn’t technically a soap—but since I did take it in the bath with me, I’m including it here—after all, one could decline to use soap altogether and simply bathe with tap water and bath salts. I suppose you could also use this as a pumice stone. Anyway, it’s the heaviest thing I’ve taken in the bathtub since I dropped my iPhone 13 while checking my stock portfolio. It looks and feels like a little brick—I mean, that you could build houses with—though that would be a disaster in a rainy climate since water erodes it at an alarming rate. Which works out well in the bath, since it does make the water nice. I guess I’m putting some trust in this product—I mean, I know it’s not a toaster or a hair dryer, but is it really pink salt from the Himalayas? I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be—to be called Himalayan salt—it might well be from Ohio. It’s definitely pink. Anyway, the label says: Imported from Pakistan, but packaged in the USA—so take that as you will. It also says: “With 84 Minerals”—which is strange, since the ingredients simply list: “Sodium Chloride.” Does that mean there are 84 varieties of sodium chloride present? I looked online, but all I found was a website that didn’t exactly inspire confidence. I guess, if they wanted to, virtually anyone could make that claim. I might add that to my website. Self-starter, team player, all natural with 84 minerals. I’d hire that guy.

Soap Review No. 146

Fleur’s – Saffron Soap

“Golden Capsule”

Here is an intriguing soap, made in Pakistan—full name is Fleur’s by Hemani “Live Natural” Saffron Soap Glycerin Soap. The box is also overkill, with raised letters, including some gold ones, a very accurate photo representation of a pinch of saffron, and even a die-cut eight-sided rectangle to create a little viewing frame. This is glycerin soap, which is always pleasing to me, but not my favorite style. The ingredients are the usual combo of probably okay and unknowable chemically bullshit—but it’s the fragrance of this soap that makes it go right to the top of my list. I have no idea what the fragrance is. It’s certainly not saffron. Like I’ve said before—there is something weird going on in the fragrance department of some Indian (and in this case, Pakistani) soaps. My favorite cuisine is Indian and Pakistani—so I wonder if there is any relation there? I’m guessing this one might be similar to that Nomark’s soap I was so obsessed with, awhile back. I’d like to compare them. I keep thinking it must be something going way back—to my childhood, maybe, which would mean the early Sixties—but what could it be? I might never figure it out, but for as long as the bar of soap lasts, I’ll keep returning to it—I’ll wash my hands, smelling it wet, steam rising, then the fragrance on my hands, for as long as it lasts. Then I take a trip in the bar soap time machine.

Soap Review No. 145

Natural Solutions by Nicole – Pumpkin Soap

“All Season”

Pumpkin pie is my favorite of all pie—I don’t have to think twice. It’s weird that it’s considered a seasonal, holiday pie, since we can get canned pumpkin all year around—so I’d like to propose that pumpkin pie is fair game all year around! On the other hand, maybe part of what makes pumpkin pie special is that we only eat it during a couple of holidays a year—that’s kind of a charming deal. So… I guess I’m kind of on the fence on this issue! The reason this is on my mind is because of this fine pumpkin soap I’ve been using in my bath. It’s more intense and pumpkin-y even than the last pumpkin soap I tried—and like that one, I feel like I’m taking dessert with me into the tub! That might sound kind of gross, so I have to emphasize that this soap is delightful. It’s made by Natural Solutions by Nicole, in Hartland, WI, so it’s local. I bought it at Cedarburg Mercantile, in Cedarburg (while waiting for a seat at the pancake house—P.J. Piper’s—next door). It’s a nice little shop, full of handmade items, and they told me that profits there are put toward helping people with disabilities. The soap has healthy ingredients, and is also cute, with a pumpkin-colored part, and a little, molded, white, pumpkin shape on top, so as it has worn down, it looks kind of like an ice cream cone. Also, I do want to say, even if you want to save pumpkin pie for the holidays (or can’t eat pie at all, like me) this pumpkin soap seems appropriate for all seasons—including cinnamon, clove, ginger, nutmeg, etc.

Soap Review No. 144

Hunter & Grey – Tea Tree Men's Bar Soap

“Merry & Bright”

White, featureless, no discernible fragrance (some people love that), yet it has a nice soap feeling, almost a grittiness, so it makes an excellent hand soap. No tea tree oil in the ingredients, so perhaps it's “tea tree” in spirit? This is one of those companies that has virtually no internet presence—which is a mystery to me. Yet it's legit soap, and the package is spectacular—intended as a holiday gift item, no doubt. It's flat-black paper, covered with a variety of pine tree illustrations, some dusted with snow, some with a variety of Christmas decorations—with rich vivid colors, including some metallic gold. You can't even make out a repetition in the pattern—this is some spectacular paper. For a “tagline” I chose “Merry & Bright” because I'm fascinated with that expression—“Merry and Bright”—which seems to be synonymous with “happy holidays” or something—I know it comes from a song, but still, it always struck me as weird. Okay—also, I had decided to write these soap reviews including a fake celebrity endorsement—but now I'm jettisoning that feature—I mean, who am I fooling? If I was to attempt it here, I would have said this soap is a favorite of Ian Hunter, English musical genius behind Mott the Hoople, and Grey Gardens, Cleveland musical genius, multi-instrumentalist, artist, and friend to the cats. But like I said... okay. Next review will include no nonsense.

Soap Review No. 143

Rexona

“Vince Stone”

How satisfying to have a soap with only one name. Rexona. What does it mean? The king of green soap, is my guess. It's got a factory, molded look, and the greenest green this side of Irish Spring—and the weirdest thing—if I can trust my memory—is that it smells exactly like Irish Spring. Of course, I have no Irish Spring here to compare my bar of Rexona to—for color or fragrance—but there's no doubt—this Rexona has a strong—really strong—masculine fragrance. I personally like it quite a lot, but then I like living dangerously. The packaging is certainly confusing—it boasts: “100% Naturally Sourced Coconut and Olive Oils”—and there's a half coconut pouring what looks like some kind of liquor, martini olives, and coconut chunks into an echo pool—it looks like a cocktail made by misguided artificial intelligence. It occurs to me that it could actually be reconfigured Irish Spring—but that soap is made by Colgate-Palmolive, I believe, and this is from Unilever—though if someone told me those two companies were either in bed with each other, or one and the same, I would not be surprised. The package lists so many scary ingredients it might have been mixed up by the Manhattan Project. I might be hardcore, but I don't live so dangerously as to welcome this one regularly into my tub. Though, I suppose I do live dangerously enough to wake up in the middle of the night and think Lee Marvin might be using my bathroom.

Soap Review No. 142

Hand In Hand – Sea Salt Bar Soap – Mint & Eucalyptus

“No Problem”

This is a perfectly nice, all-purpose, hand or bath bar soap that won't make your skin melt off, and removes the dirt just fine. Unconfirmed sources indicate this may be the soap of choice of college quarterback Stetson Bennett IV. I think I got it at Whole Foods. It seems to be a good company who claims to donate a percentage to good causes. The fragrance is a little heady, but not strong enough to remind me of anything or give me a feeling about it. It could be the eucalyptus. The bar is white. There's a lot of info on the box—they kind of cover all the bases: “sustainable,” “natural soap,” “palm oil free,” “vegan,” “cruelty free,” “99% natural,” “fair trade ingredients,” and none of the following: “parabens, phthalates, SLS/SLES, BHT, EDTA, PEGS.” I would probably not be going out on a limb to assume that it does not include the blood of sacrificed virgins. Using this soap probably won't keep you up at night by causing unspecified anxiety. It's been my friend in the bath for a couple of months now, along with several other bars, and they all seem to get along fine.

Soap Review No. 141

Boho Hemp – Hemp Bar

“Exfoliatin' USA”

This bar soap comes in an elaborate box with a die-cut marijuana leaf on each side and metallic green highlights—it's quite beautiful, and must cost more than the soap. Its full name is Boho Hemp – Hemp Bar – Eucalyptus Mint, with hemp seeds and hemp oil—and it also boasts: paraben free, gluten free, and vegan. I'm always a little suspicious when I look up a soap online and its primary source of sales is a different website than the manufacturer—but I guess that's business. The soap-maker's website doesn't offer much, but does give an address in Huntington Beach, California—a place that always makes me think of secret deals in shady warehouses—just because, you know, it's known for its surfing, and what do surfers do when they're not surfing? Shady deals. But anyway, regardless of the machinations that went down to get this soap in my hands, it's one that inspires confidence in bathing—my skin loves it and my skin doesn't lie. I am partial to the exfoliating soaps, and the more exfoliating the better—and you feel like this one could be used to sand fine furniture. I'm all for the physical benefits of the hemp oil and seed as well. Unconfirmed sources tell me that this one is a favorite of producer, Rick Rubin. The “eucalyptus mint” strikes me as an unnecessary afterthought, but if it's in there, fine—it's subtle. For those of you who are allergic to strong fragrance, this is your soap—I detect nothing beyond the very subtle scent of the primary ingredients. Okay, maybe there is some mint in there, but it's not overkill. Still, I can't help wondering if when I get to the center of this bar I'll find something hidden in there, like black market emeralds—it would be an ingenious smuggling device. If so, I'm all for it.

Soap Review No. 140

Moti – Luxury Bath Soap

“1971”

This is an incredibly cute, little, pink soap from India—“Moti” is its name—it could have several meanings, though one has to do with pearls, and there are what looks like pearls on the box, so we'll go with that. Of course, they might be fish eggs. Apparently it's from the company “Gulab”—though the box tells me it's made by the behemoth corporation, Unilever, the largest soap manufacturer in the world. Gulab jamun is a delicious Indian sweet, known by some Americans as “soggy donut.” The soap itself is a small pink disk with rounded edges and a six-petaled flower shape (perhaps called a “rosette”) cut into the middle, with the name “MOTI” engraved in the middle of that. I don't know, perhaps it's an acronym—try: M.O.re T.han meets the I. (eye). That's a stretch. It's a great soap to display in your guest bathroom (ha), visually, without spending a arm and an leg. My nickname for this soap is “1971” because its rather heady fragrance transported me back as if by magic time travel nostalgia carpet to when I was 11 years old, either in grade school or at a relative's house or both. It's a floral fragrance, but an exceedingly artificial one. It's hard to say why I associate it with a certain time period, but I do. All I have to do is take a big inhalation of it and I'm right there, in a grade school restroom, or at church, or in an office with elderly women presiding, or at my piano lesson. Maybe it's the piano lesson, after all—on Mrs. Patterson's ancient, conservatory, living room piano bench.

Soap Review No. 139

Swedish Dream – Sea Salt Soap

“Home is the Sailor”

This is one of my favorite soaps of all time based on how it makes my skin feel (which may have something to do with the sea salt, which gives it a rough texture) and the fragrance, which I love. It's much like the other Swedish Dream soap I reviewed, but better. As I said in that review, it's not from Sweden (in spite of all the Swedish print on the box) but Rhode Island (which is one of the more nautical states of the U.S., in spite of not being an island). It comes in an attractive blue and white box with an anchor on it. The soap is whiter than white and hockey-puck-shaped. Which reminds me—I don't think I've ever used a soap from Canada—or have I? Maybe that Maple one? Also, I don't think I've ever used a soap that's actually from Sweden—and I'm pretty fascinated by Sweden. I looked at the IKEA website, and didn't see any soap—only soap holders and soap dishes. Do they not sell a Swedish soap? Or is it hidden behind the lingonberries? I also noticed all kinds of warnings about delays in shipping, I guess because all these container ships are stuck at the docks with no one to unload them, or something. Are there job openings for longshoremen? Or “stevedores”—could I do that job? Do you get to carry a big, gnarly hook? Anyway, if I had a lot of money, and maybe a second bathroom, this is one of the soaps I would always have around. My favorite thing about this soap is its intense, heady smell. The box says it's: “sea salt essence fragrance”—is that true? Is that an actual thing? One must remember, too, that added fragrance is only part of the overall fragrance of soap—and all the ingredients work together to produce what you actually smell. Anyway, this is a good, elusive, yet strong fragrance—definitely the scent of the sea. Intoxicating, fresh, open, but also a bit frightening, suffocating, deadly. I guess the fragrance of this soap encapsulates, for me, the romance and the fear—the beguiling contradictions of the sea.

Soap Review No. 138

Abo Najdat & Znabiely

“Fragrant Carry-On”

I found this soap at Al Asalah Mediterranean market on Layton, out near the airport (Milwaukee), which a fine store—I wish it was in walking distance. A great place to find soap. I'd never seen this one before—very inexpensive, though I don't remember exactly—about the price of a tall, fancy coffee drink—and it's a bag of soap—four bars—so it's around $2 a bar, or less. The bag is pretty cute, too, with a little handle, and a clear window—I don't know what you'd use it for after the soap is gone—unless for more laurel scented soap. Four bars—so one hopes one likes it—but I do! It's good on my skin—I use it in the bath. A lovely laurel fragrance—pretty strong, which is okay with me, but it might be a bit much for you wimps. The bars are in the Aleppo olive oil soap style—compressed blocks, stamped with its name, I guess—can't read it. The bag has print in a language I can't read (perhaps Turkish) and English. “Features: specification made of olive-oil, laurel perfumes, alkalies.” Also: “Party no: 001 Made in Turkey.” There's a production date and a Turkish address and phone number. Also, a printed seal of approval that says 100% and has five stars—which inspires my confidence, 100%. I'm just kidding—I'm always a little cautious about new soap—I have to try it—but this one is excellent. I like the name, too. Abo Najdat & Znabiely—it would be a great name for a band. Though it probably is one. Or a stand up duo, big guy and little guy—you can't understand a thing they say, but they're funny. Or a law firm, with a downstairs office in a shopping center out on S. 76th—their slogan is “One call—and you're entering a world of pain.” Oh, one more thing—ever since I discovered that some of the olive oil soap actually floats, I now test all my soap for floating or sinking. Pretty much all soap sinks, of course—but I had hopes for this one. But it sinks. Which got me to thinking—maybe the floating is a function of both its olive oil density and its shape—since those Aleppo soaps are cubes. This one is not a cube, but a rectangle—so could that be part of the reason it sinks rather than floats? I'm going to research this, soon—though I'm afraid I might be getting into a subject area that's suspiciously akin to physics—which scares me a bit—physics—that's seriously a world of pain.

Soap Review No. 137

Olivia Care – Rose Himalayan Salt

“Miracle Salve”

This lovely pink, rose-scented bar soap from Olivia Care from Los Angeles came with three bars in the package—so they are reasonably sized—and it also gives you ample soap-time to figure out its multiple mysteries. Its full description says: “Rose Himalayan Salt oatmeal & rose geranium essential oil All Natural Exfoliating Bar Soap”—made with organic ingredients—and it promises to awaken the senses, and cleanse with pink clay, and so on. I've used pink Himalayan salt before (as salt) and it is fairly exciting (for salt). Pink Clay is supposedly good for your skin—and why not. The most intriguing ingredient is the Rose Geranium Oil, because, what is it? I've only researched to the extent of one online source, but there's plenty there. First of all, it's a geranium whose leaves smell like roses. Already, that sounds crazy to me. Its oil is purported to have the following properties: antioxidant, anti-aging, anti-inflammatory, antimicrobial, anitfungal, antiviral, preservative, analgesic, and anti-anxiety. It doesn't say it repels vampires and zombies, but why not add that, too? In short, good for you skin, and then some. There's also this: in a study, it had a strong impact on reducing the swelling in mice paws and ears. But even if your mouse/mice don't have swollen paws and ears—that's a good indication that it will also do who-knows-what-all good. That's quite a resume, and it smells nice, too.

Soap Review No. 136

Saponificio Varesino 1945 – Avocado

“Avo Dreams”

This is a hefty, rectangular bar of soap from Italian soap-maker Saponificio Varesino has been one of my favorites, recently. Does it contain any of my favorite food—avocado? I don't know—perhaps in essence, or oil, or in spirit. It does contain “micronized coconut shell” as an exfoliating agent. It gives the soap a nice texture. I wonder what other products have micronized, or powdered, coconut shell as an ingredient? It's got to be one of the least expensive substances on Earth, yet really good for lots of things—including some uses which haven't been discovered yet—but I'm just guessing. The color of this soap is particularly pleasant—kind of a light bluish green, with tiny brown specks (the coconut). I also really like the fragrance, which is a really lovely soapy smell I can't put my finger on. I'd guess it is to some degree floral, but I'm not sure—but whatever it is, I like it. I suppose there is nothing about this soap that would make me think of avocado if Avocado wasn't the name of it—not the color, or the fragrance—and ,of course, I've never washed with avocado. But there's something about this soap that's just right.

Soap Review No. 135

LovLab Natural Beauty – Flower Child

“Intriguing Alliance”

The name might suggest hippies it the park, maybe 1970, but the soap reminds me of something else—the fragrance recalls something I can't put my finger on. Which is one of the reasons I really love soap, I guess! It reminds me of something from the past, but I don't know what it is. This is a very lush and robust soap—it's both intense in feeling and fragrance. I suppose it's floral, but there are also other scents I can't place. Its description says: “Rose, Geranium, Bergamot, and Amber.” After I'm using it a while, the fragrance has both mellowed out and intensified. The color has also intensified—in three vivid bands, it's: clayish red, pleasant tan-brown, and a really deep burgundy. I prefer to take baths, so I can type these reviews on my old typewriter, resting on a board laid across the tub. I'm just kidding about typing in the bathtub. I do prefer baths, though. In the hot, hot weather I switch over to showers, and it's been pleasant seeing the shower hit this soap, and send an intense tri-color stream down the side of the white ceramic. Rose, Geranium, Bergamot, and Amber. That's quite a lineup. Roses alone might recall anything in the world, from ecstasy to sadness, from inspiration to death. Those four, though, together... watch out! If you put Rose, Geranium, Bergamot, and Amber in a room together you're likely to get anything from a murder mystery to a cure for all pain. Though more realistically, you might get a fleeting sensation, that's on the tip of your tongue, but might take a novel-length journey to (fail to) explain.

Soap Review No. 134

Alaffia – Authentic African Black Soap

“Soap Odyssey”

There's an old rule that says, anything that labels itself as “authentic,” isn't. I mean, think about it. Though, on my online dating profile, “Authentic” is my one word tagline. I'm just kidding—I hope that's obvious. If this soap was made by a giant chemical company that supports politicians who pass laws allowing the giant chemical companies to dump shit in our rivers, I'd be plenty suspicious—but it's made by Alaffia, whose beauty products can be found in many stores, and according to what I see online is a responsible, accountable, Fair Trade, environmentally sustainable, Black owned company. Most of the info I see comes from their website, sure, but I've yet to see anything negative, so it looks good. I've reviewed their soap before, and I regularly use their affordable, quality, body lotion, which I love. The ingredients in this soap are fine—and my skin has been super sensitive, lately (hot weather)—and it doesn't bother me. The fragrance is minimal, which doesn't excite me, but I know for a lot of people, that's essential. It's not as exciting as some other African black soap I've used, but it does look a little like that monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey. An attractive, solid, worry-free soap.

Soap Review No. 133

Beauty from the Root – Coffee Overload

“Bath Café”

“Coffee” and “Overload” are two words that I've seldom found myself using in proximity to each other—I mean, I try not to go nuts, with the coffee consumption—but generally, it's been the more the better. And there are very few things I love more than coffee—and they tend to be the heavy-duty concepts—you know, peace, love, trees, soap, cats, and so forth. Of course, lately, it's been necessary to practice some degree of moderation—but fortunately not where soap is concerned! So, this union of two of my favorite things naturally found itself under some pressure to deliver—and it comes through splendidly. This is a fine handcrafted, natural, vegan, palm-free, paraben and synthetic free bar of soap, with Peruvian coffee grounds as an exfoliating element—and even a few decorative coffee beans on top. It's from local (to me, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin) beauty company Beauty from the Root—and was an easy choice for the first of their varieties for me to sample. Ingredients include cocoa butter and shea butter, and several oils, including coffee bean oil. It's great on your skin. There is enough coffee in this soap that it has a bold, natural coffee fragrance which I really love. I have recently cut way down on my coffee consumption—to a couple of cups a day—and I cut out my traditional evening cup of coffee. But since I usually take a bath in the evening, now I can enjoy the coffee soap, get a good night's sleep, and not go through the roof. I don't think I'll ever get to the point where I completely replace my intake of substances with, instead, satisfying, stimulating fragrances—but this is certainly a step in the right direction.

Soap Review No. 132

Claus Porto LIZE Morning Glory Bath Soap

“Realize”

Another soap from Portugal—quite by chance, it seems, I've purchased a lot of soap from Portugal, lately. Is Portugal the soap capital of the world? I've never heard that, but someplace has to be, right? I would have guessed... I guess I have no guess. Anyway, this enormous bar of pink-orange soap is the size and shape of a dinosaur egg. Actually, that's probably not true—I've never seen a dinosaur egg. I guess some have been found, fossilized, which would make them heavier, right? And also unhatchable, but still. Two feet long... so I was over-estimating. You could fit a dinosaur egg in your carry-on luggage, but I think the airlines frown on that—just because, why ask for trouble. This soap might be more the size of an ostrich egg, and after using it a month or so, a small ostrich egg (one would still suffice for an omlette). It also kind of resembles a football in shape and color, though an orangish football. And smaller. I guess closer to the inside of a healthy durian. Though it smells nothing like a durian, and in fact smells quite lovely. It's a luscious floral smell, like walking past flowers on a wet spring morning. Presumably, morning glories—which I know nothing about, really—the internet says it's the name for over a 1000 species of flowering plants—so that's not exactly nailing down the fragrance. The packaging (very pretty, a floral, presumably morning glory, pattern) says its aromatic composition is made in France. So I guess this soap is a European collaboration, in a sense. It also claims to be “milled” seven times, which is the same amount of times I get up, in the morning, in a week. Its full name is Claus Porto Sabonete Aromático LIZE Morning Glory Bath Soap. Some of that might be redundant, when translated, but I like the sound of it. I'd trust that guy with my personal matters. Don't drop it on your foot, do use it in the bath or shower, or even as a hand soap, and enjoy the fragrance, because it'll be around a lot longer than some pop stars.

Soap Review No. 131

Castelbel Porto – The Gentleman

“Randolph Scott”

Another 300 grams bar soap from Castelbel Porto, a Portuguese company that makes a lot of soap, apparently—from A to Z (literally) and beyond (not literally). This one comes in bold black and white striped packaging that evokes an old-west barber, perhaps, and says “manly” before you even smell it—also because it's subtitled: “Grooming Soap Bar.” And also because it's called “The Gentleman.” Referring to it as “Soap Bar” is significantly different than “bar soap” in that it implies more of a specialty item. The word “grooming” is also loaded—personally, cats come to mind, cleaning themselves. That's the good connotation; the more negative one is the idea of a person being “groomed” for a particular task—and for some reason, it's always sordid or evil. A person is “groomed” to be an assassin, but never a math teacher. “The” is also significant (rather than simply “Gentleman”)—“The Gentleman” implies a product that's intended for a unique, specialized use. For the discriminating soap dude, all of this might be quite a buildup. Me, I just warsh with it. I find it odd that fragrances sometimes have specific gender connected to them. Maybe that's kind of interesting in itself, but I'd never limit myself to exclusively “male” fragrances—how sad would that be! But it's hard to imagine this being a woman's favorite soap—but why not? Its fragrance profile is: “Bergamot, Lime & Patchouli.” I don't smell a lot of patchouli in there, but maybe it's in combination—anyway, the fragrance is not subtle, but I find it extremely pleasing. It really reminds me of something my dad used, though I'm not sure what that would be. Unfortunately, I can't recall any of his products beyond the usual Noxzema. At one point, when I was pretty young, some relatives got me an Old Spice gift set (which this reminds me of, a bit)—and I got to really like that fragrance—but later came to be repulsed by it, for some reason. I guess it would be interesting to revisit, at this point. I suppose there is a nostalgia factor involved with me liking this soap—that's undeniable. I know that many people tend not to trust nostalgia—but I'm okay with it. I wonder if men are more susceptible to nostalgia than women are? Oh, well. I guess this soap brought up a lot of unanswered questions. That's okay. Keep the questions coming!

Soap Review No. 130

Pacha Soap Co. – CBD Grounding Bar Soap

“Could Become Daily”

Just a few years ago, some people would have worried that washing with this soap would lead directly to heroin addiction. I suppose that some people still do. People believe a lot of things that might seem bizarre or crazy to some of us. It's been nice, during my lifetime, seeing changes in the acceptance of cannabis (as glacially slow as the changes are). Personally, I'm all for it—though I'm not a user of anything remotely mind-altering—in fact, I've even quit using sugar (which is something I think everyone could benefit from). Anyway, the use of CBD oil is quite a trend—and its controlled use has been shown to have many benefits (not going into it all). I'm not sure how much benefit it has in soap form, in as much as I don't (as much as I'm often tempted to) ingest my soap. So trying out this one had some scientific purpose—and I have nothing dramatic, though, however, only positive things to report. It was good on my skin, and each time I used it in the bath I took a little holiday in Peaceful Village. Of course, seeing how taking a bath and using soap that inspires me has much that same effect, it's not exactly been a controlled experiment. One thing is for certain—the aromatherapy quality of this soap is undeniable. It's made with cedarwood essential oil, and also bergamot, to be sure, but I could detect more—some of this might be the hemp seed oil, and certainly there is some patchouli in there. I have to say, I've enjoyed this soap as much as any I've used in the last year (can't remember back, olfactory-ly, before that). It's a little pricy (relatively, I mean—for an otherwise unemployed, humble, unpaid soap reviewer), but if my ship ever comes in, and manages to stay afloat, I may just always keep a bar of this around.

Soap Review No. 129

LovLab Natural Beauty – Night

“After Hours”

A delicious berry-scented soap from LovLab Natural Beauty that is gentle on your skin and long-lasting—that is, if you don't eat it first! Wait. Don't eat it... it's soap. I feel like I shouldn't have to point that out, but people get confused, especially while intoxicated, and this is an intoxicating fragrance, to be sure. I definitely don't bathe and drive. It started out as an organic-looking, hand-cut, pale-purple square, but as I've used it, it's transformed into a shimmering, slightly sparkly, deep purple, smaller square—that seems like it might conjure up who-knows-what, given the appropriate incantations. “Night” is a fitting name—did I mention when wet it's subtly-sparkly, and deep, deep purple. Depending on your age group, I might quote either: “Though you're gone, your love lives on when moonlight beams,” or : “with the Rolling truck Stones thing just outside...” The LovLab website lists: oils of palm, coconut, olive, castor, almond, and cocoa butter—and the fragrance a mixture of boysenberries, elderberries, strawberries, guava, and pomegranate. The last time I tasted boysenberry was in the form of pancake syrup, in one of those syrup Lazy-Susans at the IHOP. And the last time I had elderberry was in the form of wine—well, actually in the form of a song about wine (“cooked black-eyed peas me”). The mixture here works out nicely. It's fruity, berry-like, and delicious. Also, a “trace of soft vanilla”—and I appreciate going easy on it because, you know, a little vanilla goes a long way. Vanilla is best when it's like the scent left on a pillow by a dreamworld lover who's not going to text later on.

Soap Review No. 128

Shore Soap Co. – Coconut Bikini

“Coco Whatever”

This is a really lovely little square of bar soap from the relatively young company, Shore Soap Co., in Newport, RI—with ingredients including coconut oil (naturally), olive oil, shea butter, sea kelp extract—and excluding chemical-y bullshit. Oh, it also includes coconut shell powder, which I believe is what gives it this rich, pleasing texture. I love the smell—coconut, of course, and something else—I'm cheating by reading the description—there's (thankfully) subtle vanilla, and also musk—which is what might give it this kind of intoxicating, heady quality. If you should sail the old schooner into Newport you can stop by their shop and pick up the cargo yourself. This particular bar soap, its packaging, name (“Coconut Bikini”), and descriptive paragraph might evoke a kind of paradise to most humans, and why not. Me, personally, I'm a little weird, and immune to ad copy (and most humans)—so I usually compose my own ad copy—and did so in this case while in the bath that I shared with this dissolving little bit o' art. Something like: “...on any beach I feel safe, regardless of the foliage, is the one place where the big old sun is welcome. And just because I haven't touched a drop (of alcohol, not sun) in 27 years, doesn't mean I can't still remember the waves lapping, the piña colada girlfriend, and drinking rum from the coconut shell! Even if I forgot where I hid the cash.”

Soap Review No. 127