Worth It: A Mop's Best Friend, Oily Stains' Worst Enemy

Illustration for article titled Worth It: A Mops Best Friend, Oily Stains Worst Enemy

Much unlike many a magazine editor who recommends you buy all sorts of crap that they most likely got for free, your Jezebel staff doesn't get jack shit (other than books, unsolicited). And that's how it should be. But on our own time, in our personal lives, we still buy stuff. So this is Worth It, our daily recommendation of random things that we've actually spent our own money on. These are the things we buy regularly or really like, things we'd actually tell our friends about. And now we're telling you.

When cleaning, I require something both strong and multi-talented. Not only because I hate having too much shit cluttering up my cupboards, but also because I hate cleaning, and I hate spending money on cleaning supplies. I'm not going to Swiffer my floors every day like some grinning suburban stay-at-home mom in a commercial that airs during Oprah. I'm going to attack the dirt like Genghis Khan and brutalize it so terribly that it fears to return. Nothing has served my purposes better over the years than Murphy's Oil Soap.

Murphy's Oil Soap is the liquid morphine of cleansers. It's serious business, and it will do the job it sets out to do. You can use it to clean wooden floors, sure, but you can also use it to clean wood furniture. And vinyl. And tiles! And leather. It will get everything cleaner than anything else.

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When I was six years old, I was still well into my hey-hey-hey-hey wear-pink-every-day phase; much to my mother's chagrin, my wardrobe consisted of every ultra feminine piece of clothing I could get my little hands on. I was also newly-enrolled in gymnastics classes, and the world was my balance beam or uneven bars. The fearlessness of the tiny gymnast combined with the fluffiness of my wardrobe was not a good combination, and I often came home from school with mysterious dirt and grime on my adorable dresses. I'll never forget my mother huddled over my soiled clothing on our kitchen counter, bucket of warm water and diluted Murphy's Oil Soap next to her, scrubbing with all the determination she could muster. And every single time, she succeeded. The purple sweater dress with the sequins on the front covered in black streaks from the newly oiled monkey bars? Good as new. My pink stirrup pants with gum on the crotch? Fixed. My hot pink knee length coat with the geometric appliques sewn on the front covered with slushmud? Bright as always.

Now, as an adult, I'm not playing on monkey bars with as much frequency and the grease and dirt stains of days gone have been replaced with coffee and food stains. But, even now, Murphy's has never let me down. I always have some on hand. It's simple, cheap, and does the trick for those rare times that I'm suddenly overcome with the desire to mop my floors. It makes my place smell great. And it comes in handy when my building's washing machines are malfunctioning and leaving greasy black streaks on my clothing again.

Murphy's Oil Soap, $3.99 for 16 oz at Amazon.

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Worth It only features things we paid for ourselves and actually like. Don't send us stuff.

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DISCUSSION

I have a question. This "Worth It" category is apparently for random things, right? Because so far it's been the typical women's magazine ad fare. The categories, starting from this post (I stopped after a while because the pattern was obvious):

Cleaning product, Makeup, Hair, Hygiene, Underwear, Bags, Underwear, Shoes, Makeup, Hygiene (Hair), Hygiene (Hair), Product (Hair), Makeup, Makeup, Nails, Makeup, Product (Face), Product (Lotion), Hygiene (Hair), Clothes, Makeup, Makeup (Torture Device), Nails, Makeup, Makeup, Makeup, Product (Face), Makeup, Health, Makeup, Product (Face), Health, Product (Lotion), Makeup ….ad nauseam

I mean, I thought Sarah Haskins' "Target Women" opening was supposed to be satirical.

(no loss of love for MOS, of course. I use it. But I use all sorts of other things not in traditionally-female consumption-categories, too)