Worth It: Honestly, This Soap Is Magic
LatestMuch 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.
Who wouldn’t love a concentrated soap that gets up a nice lather from a few drops, smells amazing, leaves no residue, and has ingredients you can pronounce? Dr. Bronner’s has a Castile soap base made from saponified organic extra virgin coconut, olive, jojoba and hemp oils, which is then adulterated with one of seven great-smelling essential oils (there is also an unscented “baby mild” formula). I always get the peppermint kind because I like how it feels all tingly (and because the scent, combined with shower steam, is basically the best hangover/cold/miscellaneous cure-all ever).
Dr. Bronner’s liquid soap is also Fair Trade certified, USDA certified organic, and sold in recycled plastic bottles that bear recycled labels. A 32-oz bottle lasts me around a year and sets me back $17. I use it to wash, I use it to shave my legs, and I use it to feel alive in the morning. Theoretically, you can also dilute the soap and use it as a household cleaner, a shampoo, a laundry detergent, and a toothpaste, among other things (Dr. Bronner claimed his soap had 18 uses). But in addition to feeling good and being cheap, the reason I use Dr. Bronner’s is the bottle labels. Because it is fun in the shower to breathe in those minty fumes and read messages like:
Absolute cleanliness is Godliness! Teach the moral ABC that unites all mankind free, instantly 6 billion strong and we’re All-One. “Listen Children Eternal Father Eternally One!”
All punctuation and capitalization in original. The label proceeds, in increasingly microscopic fonts, to offer what seem to be Dr. Bronner’s guidelines for living. There are thirteen listed on the front of the label, above and below the product information and ingredients; on the sides of the label, there are more esoteric passages that follow a totally different numbering system. Those varyingly discuss “Mohammed’s Arabs” and the formation of Israel, and quote at length from Thomas Paine and Rudyard Kipling. There also (used to be?) some stuff about fluoride and wind power, and how Vaseline and lemon juice work as a contraceptive. (Don’t use Vaseline and lemon juice as a contraceptive.)