It’s Burns Night tonight! This has naturally turned my thoughts towards all things Scottish, but particularly Robert Burns himself. ‘Dirty Wee Rabbie‘ as my Grandad used to call him, in a warm tone that signified high approval of Rabbie’s philandering, kirk-bothering habits.
I think the perfect way for me to celebrate Dirty Wee Rabbie is by reviewing this beautiful little soap, made by The Scottish Fine Soaps Company. The tin is very eye-catching, no? And the perfect present for any reluctant bather you might know. When you open it, the soap is tissue-wrapped, a nice touch that is both practical (nothing worse then a chipped or grazed savon) and luxurious (wrapping tissue around anything multiplies perceived value at least twice).
The soap is a chunky, squareish tablet that sits perfectly in the palm of the hand, with a smooth, satin-like feel. Wash! has a delicate fragrance – it won’t perfume your lingerie drawer were you to tuck it away with your knickers – but has just enough scent to ensure that it doesn’t smell in any way at all ‘fragrance-free’. Fragrance-free (which means no artificial scents have been added to mask any natural smells) for me is code for ‘smells like a wet sheep’. Sheep are a marvellous Scottish invention, but I never, ever want to smell like one.
I do love a bit of carving on my soap, especially when it’s informative and looks so pretty. I have no idea what font was used (although I intend to find out), but it’s a nice one, and I am reluctant to put this under water and rub it all away. This is why I lust after Chanel powders with delicate finishes, but never buy them, because I know I couldn’t bear to spoil them. But I’m going to go right ahead and desecrate this with use – after all it’s a mere Five English or Scottish Pounds, and if I don’t use it, then how am I going to justify buying any of the other fabulous soaps in the range?
I’m pleased to report that Scottish Fine Soap in WASH! is gorgeous in use. It works instantly into a silky, fragile lather and although I had enough soap on my hands to wash with, I couldn’t resist turning it between my palms just a few more times because it felt so good. Liquid soap, once a novelty, is now rarely a sensuous pleasure, but good hard soap is. I think it must tap into the part of the mind that finds pleasure at the seaside in picking up pebbles and smooth, hard stones. I dropped the soap back into the tin, washed, rinsed and waited for any feeling of dryness or tightness – unsurprisingly, there is none.
I am incapable of breaking the taboo my Granny instilled regarding the application of soap to the face, but my guess is that you certainly could wash your face with this – it feels very gentle, and in a blind test I would have assumed that it was a facial soap, not a hand or body soap. I am so glad that Burns Night encouraged me to use this today.
There are loads of good reasons to celebrate Rabbie Burns, but my favourite thing about him is this: Rabbie Burns, not Mary Quant, invented the mini-dress (or cutty-sark, to give it the proper name)*. Read Tam O’Shanter tonight, and you’ll see what I mean.
So, my recommendation for Burns Night is that you celebrate it soaking in the bath, reading Burns, with a bar from The Scottish Fine Soaps Company close to hand. There are a huge number of soaps to choose from, and all priced so reasonably that not even Frazer from Dad’s Army could consider them an extravagance, so have a browse and see what takes your fancy.
Worried that you can’t enjoy Burns Night to the full as you lack fluency in the Scottish tongue? Take a quick lesson with the marvellous Stanley Baxter:
* I thank the Youngest Great Beauty for bringing to my attention this important fact of fashion history.
