This is highly recommended, a series where I provide a compelling argument for why you should like something that I like.
Dear Reader,
Here’s a mystery that I’ve never been able to solve: why did every teenage boy insist on drowning themselves in Axe body spray from 2004 to 2010? It had a smell, but it didn’t smell good. It was positioned as an alternative to traditional deodorant, which it most definitely was not. (I’ve never smelled anything quite like the cocktail of hormone driven body odor and bitterly chemical “freshness”.) It was the de-facto stench of middle school hallways all across America. And I helped make it that way – I distinctly remember lobbying my mother to buy me a can in the middle of the personal care aisle at the grocery store. (And I got one, much to her chagrin.)
Why did we all smell like this? Why did we abandon time-honored ways of masking personal odors in favor of ozone-killing aerosol spray? To go even further, why did we start using 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash? Why were we using liquid body cleaning products at all?
I don’t think I’ll ever get answers to any of these questions. But I’m glad I’ve moved on.
I highly recommend bar soap.
Why?
Wider Range Of Scents
All of these chemically produced grooming products seem to be based more on a hyper-masculine feeling than an actual smell. “Cool Rush” is a great name from a flavor of Gatorade, but it leaves a little to be desired when it comes to telling me how I’m going to smell when I use it. Bar soap comes in a ton of simple scents. You’ve got “citrus”. (Tastes great and smells great.) “Lavender”. (Objectively smells good but always seems to give me a headache.) Even the crazier options like “black sea salt” do a better job of communicating the scent than something entirely made up. It’s also easier to mix things up – one month I can smell like an apple orchard and the next like a beach, instead of always smelling like a “cool rush”.
Better Lather Potential
One of the best parts of taking a shower (never a bath) is getting a nice, thick lather going. It’s second only to getting clean. Body wash never seems to do the trick. There’s something about that blue Gatorade liquid with the viscosity of cheap syrup that doesn’t hold up. Whether you choose to lather with a loofah or not, it’s best to use a standard bar of soap.
Looks Nicer In The Shower
Other than me, Al, Andrew and occasionally Dana, nobody really looks at what’s going on in my shower. But when I have to look at something at least once a day (unless I use the gym I’m paying too much money for), I want it to look nice. Brightly colored cheap plastic will never look nice. A pastel rectangle (with a few flecks of a secondary color for texture) elevates the class level of any shower. (My perpetually broken, very old shower needs it.) In the off chance I do have a guest over that needs to clean up, they’ll see that I’m the type of person who cleans up in the most respectable way.
Makes Me Feel More Dignified
As I continue the slow march to 30 (and eventually death), I’m looking for more ways to act my age. That means buying less fast fashion garbage. Eating less garbage. Taking my garbage out before the trash can starts overflowing. Using bar soap instead of body wash seems like something an adult does. Like many of my assumptions, this is based on little to no evidence. I haven’t visited enough showers of my fellow adults to know whether or not they’re using body wash. But I did conduct a formal Twitter poll, which has to count for something:
Maybe a lot of my followers are teenage boys? Am I posting a lot of teenage boy content? I don’t like these results, but I respect them.
Generally More Affordable
Another of my “be more of an adult” goals is to be better with my money. (It’s not going well. But if someone were to pay me to write things like highly recommended, that would help.) Buying bar soap instead of body wash won’t have a huge effect on my savings, but every little bit counts. Plus, I can use spending less money on getting clean as an excuse to spend more money on things that really matter, like getting dirty.
There’s got to be one thing you don’t like about bar soap.
Slippery
It’s just really goddamn hard to hold on to. And that’s really goddamn annoying. Yes, I know that a plastic bottle with ergonomically designed gripping areas render this problem obsolete, but whatever. Not worth it. I just need to get better with my hands.
Writing this did not help answer any of the questions I had before writing this. (Not that I thought I would get any answers. Writing highly recommended has never revealed anything resembling an answer.) But I can confidently say that I don’t have any more questions. In my book, that’s a win.
And when I win, reader, you win too.
love,
nicholas