Rubber ducky, joy of joys

Yeah, that title is a Sesame Street shout-out. And, heaven help me, I don't even have kids.

As my boyfriend and I prepare to move out of the flat where we currently live, I'm taking as many opportunities as possible to enjoy our delightfully retro (now that I've stopped thinking of it as shamefully dated) bathroom and its avocado green sink and bath. I've spent hours on end in that bathroom - most of them in the bath itself.

I know full well that taking baths in scalding hot water depletes skin's moisture and is just an all around bad idea. But as with tanning and wearing 28-year-old eye shadow, sometimes one feels the risk is worth taking. I get more pleasure out of a boiling bath on a frigid winter's evening than I could ever get out of having skin that didn't need moisturiser. Indeed, a life without hot baths is no life at all.

I think it was ElleGirl executive editor Christina Kelly, back when she was a snotty, thirtysomething writer for beloved teen magazine Sassy, who commented in a piece for that now defunct magazine that reading in the bath is too much like hard work. Only rarely do I agree. The bath is the perfect place to read, even if it's only the notes on the packaging of your favourite products - sometimes especially if it's only the notes on the packaging of your favourite products. There's something about being completely immersed in hot water, thinking about all the years of research and study that have gone into making the products that are doing their work on me, that takes a bath from mere relaxation to something more indulgent and pampering.

Of course, whether or not all those years of research have resulted in a product that does diddly squat for you is another question. My current rotation of bathtime auditioners is proving to be rather hit-and-miss.

As far as bubble bath goes, sometimes I yearn for the simplicity of the Mr Bubble I loved as a kid. The closest I can come these days is a big bottle of Le Petit Marseillais milk bath ("Douche Crème Extra Doux au Lait") that I picked up in Brussels this past winter. I've been a big fan of Le Petit Marseillais milk hand soap ("Gel Mousse extra doux au Lait") for a while, and always pick up multiple bottles of the stuff when we're in France. It is, as the Brits say, cheap and cheerful, but smells like a dream and is more than adequate in the moisturising department.

There is something, though, about knowing that I'm using an el cheapo product that keeps me from feeling overly pampered. Sometimes, nothing will do but the feeling of being an evil consumer who will stop at nothing to bring an obscene amount of luxury into all aspects of her life - even the bath. It is at those times that I turn to The Sanctuary Spa in Covent Garden, London. While their products are not actually all that ridiculously expensive, they are pricey enough (especially when I multiply the price in sterling by two and think of what they would cost in dollars) not to feel as if you're bathing in the toiletries aisle at Big Lots.

Specifically, the Sanctuary Foaming Bath Soak (£4.50 - $9 - per 250ml) and Sanctuary Body Wash (£4.25 per 250ml) are pretty special items. The smell is incredible, the kind of thing you just want to bury your nose in permanently, and the body wash is exceptionally moisturising. After emerging from the bath, supremely relaxed and with jelly-like limbs, it's worth summoning up the energy to slather on some Mande Lular, the Sanctuary's gorgeously fragranced body souffle. (One of my worst beauty disasters came this winter, when I dropped an open tub of Mande Lular face down on the bathroom floor. I furiously tried scooping the cool whip back into the container, hoping against hope that the three second rule - if it's been on the floor for fewer than three seconds, it's not germy - applies to toiletries as well as food. Sadly, this appears not to be the case.)

There are bathtimes when I feel like doing more than just reading and wondering how long it's been since I properly cleaned my shower curtain. At those times, I cleanse, shave, and exfoliate.

I picked up a bottle of Pond's Dramatic Results Age Defying Rich Foaming Cleanser ($6.99) when I was in LA in March. I hadn't done enough research to be willing to shell out for anything more expensive, but was looking for something new to use during my month-long business trip. The best thing I can say about this cleanser is that the smell (obviously a big deal to me) is delicious, and I would be quite happy for it to invade my nostrils forever. As a cleanser, though, I find it lacking; it leaves skin feeling slightly dry and stripped, yet doesn't actually remove all of your makeup, as promised. That said, there's no way I'm pitching this. It's adequate enough to use once a week or so, but I do follow with toner (Guinot Rose Water Toning Lotion, $22.99) and emollient moisturiser (Mustela Hydrabébé Face, $10.99 - yes, it's meant to be for babies, but I was stuck in Brussels with no moisturiser and with only poorly stocked drugstores at which to shop).

Also scoring big on the smell front is Alba Mango Vanilla Cream Shave ($5.99). But after doing a very scientific (except not) test in my bathroom, I can't say that my skin feels any softer on a leg shaved with this cream than on the one without. It does certainly help the razor glide over the skin much more easily, though, and shaving with only hot water isn't a wonderful idea. At this price, it's not a purchase I can regret.

One tried-and-tested part of my bathing repertoire, and one which never fails to deliver the goods, is Clarins Gommage Exfoliant ($33, or £21 - yes, we get ripped off in Britain). I would never call this exfoliating scrub easy to rinse off, but it does what it says on the tin: attaches itself to bits of dry skin and removes those suckers quite effectively. This is not to say, though, that there aren't cheaper products out there that accomplish this. I've just never tried any of them.

The good news is, the place we're heading does have a beautiful claw-foot bath. The bad news is, claw-foot baths offer none of the precious around-the-edge space that I so desperately need to perch my bath accessories upon. (After buying two bathroom organisers - "They'll ensure a lack of clutter around the bath and shower!" I excitedly promised my boyfriend - and stocking them fully, I still ended up having to line bottles up along the edges of the tub. After sending multiple products crashing into the bath and onto the floor by just brushing against one of them as he walked past, my boyfriend called from the bathroom, "Honey, I just knocked over the lack of clutter!")

Still, give me hot water and some nice-smelling potions and I'm a happy girl. If the products do what they're supposed to do, even better. For the foreseeable future, though, my own diligent research into these matters will carry on.

Comments

[raker]

We installed a new bathroom a couple of years ago, and are still enjoying the complete lack of clutter in the pristine all white and chrome space. Last year we had a water conditioning system installed (try as I might I just CAN'T get used to the hard water in Wiltshire), & as a "special offer" the company gave us 5 years' worth of non-soap based products - everything from kitchen/laundry products (washing up liquid, dishwasher pwoder, laundry detergent, surface cleaner, disinfectant spray and bizarre "sanitary hand gel", which I guess is a much more American requirement than West Country) to bathroom products - bath soap, fine-milled soap, shower gel and shampoo. These are all very mild, as because of the water they don't need lots of surfactants and the like added, so do the job, if in an ordinary, non-pampering way.

The storage of 5 years-worth of this stuff is a bit of a nightmare, but not one for the bathroom. Which means that I have been able to clear every single bottle from every surface of the bathroom -- we've even installed non-gym shower dispensers for the shampoo/shower gel. It's really liberating.

However, before you keel over at the prospect, I don't always feel like a utilitarian bathing experience. So, for these occasions, I've created a bathroom basket - nice handwoven basket, filled with whatever luxury toiletries I've picked up on my travels, candles, toweling headbands, etc. Everything's always in one handy place, it can be tidied away afterwards, and somehow it encourages purchase of little "trial" bottles of more things than i would normally consider buying, because "it's only for my basket..."

[Donna B]

Thanks for putting prices on this fun, Jackie! I love Daily Candy, which you have linked, but wrote to them a couple weeks ago, both to compliment them on their fantastic watercolor illustrations, and complain that they never put prices on anything!
I mean, these are products we're talking about (or services, or food, in their case), and not some theoretical scientific ideas.
Then I can compare, search on ebay, look for samples, or keep an eye open at garage sales, so I can get a beautiful something cheaper, and feel very pleased with myself. Or save my money to get a Chanel lipstick that is a color found nowhere else in the world...but on my lips.

[Millie Colbran]

I ae just come across this site, very interesting, it is now stored in 'My Favourites'