I did the unthinkable. I bought soap.

The other day it occurred to me that I have no idea what the average Australian experiences in the supermarket soap aisle. I don't go down there anymore. I haven't for years. So I did the unthinkable.

I bought soap.

It reminded me of that scene in What's Eating Gilbert Grape — Gilbert walking into Foodland after swearing he'd rather die than shop there. That was me. Standing in an aisle I hadn't visited in fourteen years, staring at an overwhelming wall of bottles, bars and decisions.

I picked up a beauty bar. The one with the famous campaign. The girls of all shapes and sizes in their underwear, which I always thought was genuinely good advertising. I respected that campaign.

So I bought it. And here is my completely honest opinion.

It was ok. My skin didn't fall apart. It was a little drier — I felt it mostly in my hands. The lather was fine. It washed me. No complaints there.

But the smell. That smell wasn't an accident. It's doing a job. When a product strips your skin's natural oils, it leaves you feeling like you need something — and a fragrance that lingers all day is part of that loop. It keeps the product present. Essential oils do their work and step back. Synthetic fragrance doesn't step back. It's designed not to.

I have used essential oils exclusively for so long that I'd forgotten what synthetic fragrance actually does. Essential oils connect you to something. Citrus wakes you up. Lavender slows you down. They make you feel something and then they leave quietly.

This didn't leave quietly. It was a constant, loud, unending wave that I could still smell on myself the next morning. Interruptive.

Which got me thinking about why.

Most commercial soap isn't really soap at all. Read the ingredients on that beauty bar and you won't find the word soap anywhere. You'll find surfactants — industrial detergents that clean aggressively and completely. They take the dirt and they take the sebum, the natural oil your skin produces to protect itself. Strip that away every day and your skin starts asking for things. Constantly.

That tight feeling after a shower isn't your skin type. It's the product.

Real soap is a chemical reaction between plant oils and an alkali. In our studio in Camden we use cold pressed olive oil, mineral clays and pure essential oils. We make it the way my grandmother made it in Calabria. And we don't remove the glycerine.

Commercial manufacturers strip glycerine out and sell it back to you in the moisturiser you now need because the soap dried you out. We leave it in. It draws moisture to the skin while the olive oil cleans without aggression.

The first thing people notice when they switch is the quiet. Their skin stops asking for things. It just feels like skin.

You were never the problem.

Ready to try real soap? Start with the Soap Stash — three bars, choose one for every mood.

Shop here.