I remember when my bar of soap in the shower was fresh and large and satisfying. I like the way a new bar of soap feels in my hand, all heavy and bursting with potential. It makes you want to shout to the world, “I HAVE PLENTY OF SOAP!” When soap is abundant, I’ll wash parts of my body that aren’t even dirty, just because I can.
Ah, those were the days.
About a week ago, that bar of soap had shrunken to the size of a small dog’s ear. It was still functional, but no longer the joy it had been. I can afford to replace soap before it surrenders its last bubble, but that would be wasteful. So I snugged the dog ear into the palm of my hand and lathered up. The tiny soap got me clean, but I couldn’t enjoy it.
Ah, those were the days.
More recently, I was in the shower, all wetted down, and reached for what I figured would be, by then, a Chiclet-sized bar of soap, only to find no soap at all. I wiped the fog off the glass shower wall and squinted to the bathtub area. There it was. My wife had moved it. Damn her love of baths! Now I had a tough decision.
1. Abort shower, dry off, fetch Chiclet, fetch dry towel, restart the process.
2. Walk wet across the bathroom wet, fetch Chiclet. Slip on the wet floor and die.
3. Use shampoo on my entire body and tell myself it’s “the same as soap”
I shampooed my body. It’s the same as soap, right?
Ah, those were the days.
I soon learned that my wife had moved the Chiclet because we had no other bars of soap in the house. I probably should have made myself a note right then and there to add it to the shopping list. Soon, the soap was the size of a Tic Tac. Then a grain of rice. Then. . . I dropped it.
I don’t know if you have ever tried to pick up a tiny piece of soap after it hits the shower floor. It’s difficult, even if you aren’t in prison. It suctions itself to the tile floor and starts to melt almost immediately. I tried to pry up some of its little soap body, but I was too late. My soap had failed me, or perhaps I had failed it. In the end, I was wet, and dirty, and still a soap waster.
If you have not tried to wash your entire body with the soap you have under one fingernail, it’s harder than you think. Once again, I reached for the shampoo. That was empty too. I considered the other sources of soap in the house. There was the dishwasher soap, but that seemed like it might hurt for some reason that wasn’t entirely clear to me.
We had liquid hand soap at all the sinks, but I couldn’t see myself toweling off and bringing a nice soap dispenser in the shower. And given my soap-dropping propensities, the dispenser would either break my foot or burst into sharp pieces and unleash a Walt Disneyesque tsunami of bubbles that would fill the shower and eventually the entire house.
I ended up taking a water-only shower, but only because I didn’t think of the toothpaste until I wrote this.
Ei, you may like to try using BODY WASH instead..
Posted by: maeladie | April 17, 2008 at 02:13 AM
I find it really a nuisance when the body fat tends to gather along the bath tub after the week of baths. A good soap should help to reduce that as well as leave the body feeling clean and rejuneavated with clean pores. Claude
Posted by: Claude Fullinfaw sharing Nutritionals Supplements You Can trust | December 14, 2007 at 12:45 PM
Another soapmaker laughing at your story!
Posted by: Luv4Country Soaps | November 06, 2007 at 12:37 PM
I have the opposite problem. I just counted my soap stash and it is 186 bars of soap in the bathroom alone (under the cabinet sink)
That doesn't even take in to account the soap in the basement from soapmaking.
All together, I think I have about 500 bars of soap. I used to make and sell it. I think it is safe to say, I don't need to make any more soap ever again.
Posted by: Soapqueen | August 09, 2007 at 12:01 PM
In 'Golden Happiness Ratio' you consider yourself the master of the 80% rule.
Ever thought of not using soap at all? A soaplessly 80% clean body will let you feel clean enough.
The 20% soap extra effort ruins your skin's natural dirt/smell resistance und makes you a soap addict.
Shampooing hair is tolerable. And, there are cases where soap helps: after disassembling a greasy-rusty oldtimer engine or so. But that's not the sort of things you are doing frequently as I understand you.
Has your cat ever asked you for soap?
Posted by: Detlef | June 27, 2007 at 03:02 AM
One of the best things i've read in a while, cheers. I've just gone into the business of making a soap and skin care and you made me realise, we all do need soap...(and skin care can be handy too)
Posted by: Beck | June 25, 2007 at 02:11 AM
You know, you soap waster, this is what I like about those little bars of soap in hotel rooms. They are just going to throw them away after you use them, so I always carry a spare ziploc sandwich bag and take my used soap with me. Then I've got loads of spare bars of soap in the cabinet when we run out, and I haven't had some hotel throw out a perfectly good bar just because I got it all germy.
And I'm not so much environmentally conscious as miserly.
Posted by: Elfie | June 18, 2007 at 12:01 PM
French prose poet Francis Ponge has several versions of a poem ``soap'' with great lines, eg.
``If one lets it remain in the water, it perishes in confusion.''
``This inert stone is nearly as hard to hold as a fish. See it slip from me and dive again into the basin, emitting at its own expense a blue cloud of evanescence.''
The book form is a series of rewrites of the idea.
Posted by: Ron Hardin | June 15, 2007 at 11:46 AM
I got tired of the same thing and bought a big block of soap (3" X 5" X 18") for melting and pouring soap into molds. I considered just using this in the shower but that seemed too Kramer-esqe. Now I just lop off a good inch an a half and I only need to waste a sliver every 6 months or so.
Posted by: krkr8m | June 15, 2007 at 10:28 AM
I have an idea similar to the "fusion soap" (sticking the old soap to the new soap) idea many people have come up with already.
The fusion soap technique can be a bit annoying when the chiclet falls off then you lean down and recieve multiple concussions on the bathroom wall tiles whilst trying deperately to pick up the soap sliver. Then you drop the big saop in the process of serching for the smaller one. As you can see it leads to a eternal cycle of soap searching (if there is a hell I bet that this nightmare feature somewhere in their torture list).
So just put you soaps scraps in a little dish where after a while the acculmulated scarps fuse together or can be gently melted together (in which case you can mould it) to form a messed up, Frankinstien's monster-style super-soap. This can then be used like a large soap with all the same soapy satisfaction as well as the added bonus of the fact you are recyling.
To prevent concussion due to reduced friction in bathing/showing facilites combined with loss of epidermis-cleaning-emulsifier you can get a bath/shower mat and/or dry just your feat or even better get a soap for your wife. She'll apreciate it as long as she does know your true motives.
Posted by: Tortuga | June 15, 2007 at 09:04 AM
When my bar of soap gets so thin that it bends easily, I take out a new bar. At the end of my shower I press the old, thin bar onto the new one. They fuse into one bar of soap - no waste. This method does require that you have the forethought to buy more soap before your run out.
One could also buy a liquid body wash dispenser and large refill bottles. It's more expensive (mostly you're paying for more water), but not as wasteful as throwing away shrunken soaps.
-HAL
Posted by: HALiverpool | June 15, 2007 at 05:21 AM
Laugh My F&^%ing Ass Off!
Posted by: Thetigress | June 14, 2007 at 09:03 PM
>Walk wet across the bathroom
Ha-ha, take this, wealthy Americans and your oversized bathrooms!
Posted by: Ilia Chentsov | June 14, 2007 at 12:15 PM
poor soap =(
Posted by: charmaine | June 14, 2007 at 05:28 AM
I think I have a rather ingenious/mad idea of what could be done to go one better.
Why solve a soapy problem, when you could go one better and create the Messiah of soaps?
Soap fusion has been discussed here. Well, for the ultimate soap take several full bars, wet them, and skillfully create a block of soap so large you could become the saviour of the suds, walking around the neighbour uniting those unsatisfyed by their shower experiences with the promise of soappy eternity?
Okay, maybe not, but create an uber-bar for when the boredom becomes excessive.
Posted by: Peter O'Connor | June 14, 2007 at 05:00 AM
I think I have a rather ingenious/mad idea of what could be done to go one better.
Why solve a soapy problem, when you could go one better and create the Messiah of soaps?
Soap fusion has been discussed here. Well, for the ultimate soap take several full bars, wet them, and skillfully create a block of soap so large you could become the saviour of the suds, walking around the neighbour uniting those unsatisfyed by their shower experiences with the promise of soappy eternity?
Okay, maybe not, but create an uber-bar for when the boredom becomes excessive.
Posted by: Peter O'Connor | June 14, 2007 at 05:00 AM
This is how I solve this problem:
When the soap reaches dog ear size, I take a new soap bar and fuse it with the leftover dog-ear soap. This has many advantages:
1. The new "fusion" soap is more satisfying than either - its a work of art
2. You have sufficient advance notice if you were on your last soap bar
3. You will never have to deal with chicklet soap or stuck-on-the-floor soap
4. Etc
Posted by: Caveat | June 14, 2007 at 04:39 AM
From "The Onion Eaters" by JP Donleavy. Clementine has just taken over an ancient & ramshackle Irish castle inherited from his aunt. The manservant Percival has just drawn him a bath.
'Is there a piece of soap?'
'Ah soap. The soap. Now the soap. Well let me see now. Soap. You know sir, I don't think there has been much need of it around for a while now.'
'There's no soap.'
'I wouldn't say that now. I'd say that between you wanting soap now and the fact that I might not be able to lay my hand on a bit of it that there would be a gap of time affording discomfort unless sir you might on the spot now convinced yourself you didn't need it at all.'
:-) Greetings from a misty moist Dublin.
Posted by: PWB | June 14, 2007 at 02:27 AM
Ravenous, that ain't a myth.
When my high school class visited France, we were hosted by families for a week. One of the girls was told by the woman that her husband did not want her wasting water showering daily. She was placed with a different family.
Posted by: just_human | June 13, 2007 at 07:47 AM
Am I the only person here who would love to find a shampoo that lacked dyes and perfumes? Chemicals are for people who can't, or won't, shower daily.
Posted by: just_human | June 13, 2007 at 07:44 AM
Great post! You need to hunt for retro-soap, now there is a new business!
Mark Bowness
Posted by: Mark Bowness | June 13, 2007 at 07:04 AM
You're obviously not a woman!
If I run out of my Dove bar soap, I have my choice of organic castille tea tree soap, body gel from some boutique in the mall, facial scrub for exfoliation, plus three varieties of shampoo.
Mind you, I only bought the Dove soap and facial scrub. At some point in history, it was decided that bath toiletries are "gift items" for females. I don't know why. We don't give, say, dish detergent or fabric softner as gifts.
Anyway, I've got enough to wash an Army battalion if they didn't mind like smelling like tea tree oil. But I can't throw it away, either.
Posted by: VermontGal | June 13, 2007 at 05:36 AM
A friend once said "everyone has an obsessive compulsive tendency", what's yours?
It's both a scary confession and an idea for a new blog subject.
I ALWAYS squish my old small soap onto the new one. In fact I have an unbroken line of merged soaps(like the popes - it even rhymes) lasting for a few years. I would be really upset if this line got broken now.
How obsessive is that?
Posted by: Jon | June 13, 2007 at 04:05 AM
Why focus on soap chips when
the REAL unsolved problem is
a soap dish that doesn't
accumulate crud and keeps the
soap dry, instead of sitting
in a pool of soapy water.
I'd rather see the federal
government spend $300 million
on solving this problem than
that robot arm they just
installed on the International
Space Station.
For what we spend on NASA,
we could solve the soap dish
problem, develop a cleaner
to remove the white film that
accumulates on glass shower
doors, and invent a toilet
bowl that doesn't accumulate
an unsightly layer of crud
if you don't clean it.
Our government science
research priorities are
entirely messed up. We need
a household-technology agency
much more than we need a space
agency.
Posted by: Mark Thorson | June 12, 2007 at 04:43 PM
Here's a "Hint From Heloise" that I give you at no charge in honor of your 50th. Good that delusion thing you mentioned in the Dilbert strip holds for you. But you may take comfort in the fact that as old as you get, I will always be older. Scant comfort, but what do you want for free?
OK, here's the hint: when the bar of soap gets used up to the point where it starts to become flexible, take out a new bar of soap and use it for your shower. Then, while its still wet, put the old, used bar of soap on top of the new one. Smooth down the edges so it seems like it's all one piece, then let it dry overnight. The next morning, it will have melded into a single bar, and you can use the whole thing.
It's sort of fun to get soap that has some kind of a name or something etched into it. Then, after the old soap on top begins to wear down, you can begin to see the name or whatever become visible again. This is similar, I'm sure, to the thrill archeologists feel when they crack open a rock to find the impression of some long-ago dead plant or something inside. At least it is for me.
In this way, you never waste your soap, and you never have to wash yourself with a soapy grain of rice. Now, someone may have already given this advice in a response to this post, but I'm not in the mood to read over 200 posts about showering just to ensure this is not redundant. So sue me.
Happy Birthday, and you're welcome. And, in honor again of your advanced age, I will not take this opportunity to bring up the fallacy of your position on anthropogenic global warming. You're welcome again.
Posted by: Bruce Harrison | June 12, 2007 at 04:13 PM