Outside, away from blankets and radiators, temperatures are dropping and my teeth are involuntarily chattering. Though I don’t respond well to the return of chillier forecasts, I do look forward to one aspect of the season: baths.
Baths are somewhat of a lost regiment. Back in the day, the primary way to get clean was to fill a receptacle and wash. After the Industrial Revolution, plumbing became standard, as did the shower head. I am not surprised by the development because showers are meant for efficiency. People frequently tell me they enjoy showers because of their relaxation factor. However, I don’t agree.
How tranquil can you be while hundreds of jets pelt your upright, exposed body? The point of a shower is to get in and out. Baths, on the other hand, require you to take your time. First, you must let the tub fill. Then, you soak. Eventually, you reach for the shampoo.
Despite a decline in popularity, I am not the only one who understands this hallowed porcelain domain. There exists a culture of bath-takers, makers and appreciators who enthusiastically raise their foam-covered fists in the air. I am certain that the very beginning stages of my obsession with bathing came from Sesame Street. The segment featured Ernie serenading his rubber ducky with gusto. I remember being irritated by the ducky’s incessant, rapid-fire squeaking. Methodically gnawing on a Fig Newton, legs slung over the side of a recliner, I thought “Calm the duck down Ernie. He isn’t getting it.”
Snoop Dog is equally annoyed when his quiet bath time with his lady is interrupted by outsiders looking for a party. His 1993 album Doggystyle begins with splashes and sultry mutters, followed by a doorbell ding and rowdy greetings. “Damn, every time I’m chillin’, someone ringing my doorbell.” Sorry Snoop, the world doesn’t care to unwind anymore.
If Snoop Dog’s dip wasn’t cut short, he might have been able to relax with cinema characters whose storylines bisect at the bathtub. Julia Roberts makes prostitution look adorable as she sings along to Prince in Pretty Woman, covered in bubbles. Big Fish’s deepest scene happens in an old-fashioned clawfoot tub when Jessica Lange sobs to her dying husband and whispers, “I don’t think I’ll ever dry out.” Al Capone holds court in a Jacuzzi in Scarface and screams to reaffirm his authority while the marble tiles around him start resembling a shallow grave.
Maybe I have convinced you to turn on the tap. Who wouldn’t want to be like a rapper, puppet, or me for that matter? Whatever your motive, it is important that you prep for your bath experience. There are plenty of companies that have cashed in on bath products. Lush Cosmetics is top on my list. Lush has transformed cleanliness into an art form. Every time I visit their store, I can tell who is a newbie. They are the ones crouched over displays inhaling deeply. The reverence is earned from items like the Kiss Me Klimt – a fragrant, chalky bomb that dissolves into gold glitter. Woah.
Together, I believe that we all can bring back the bath. Our sanity demands a couple quiet moments when the roar of life and the roar of water cease.Tags: bath, Baths, Big Fish bathtub scene, Doggystyle, Ernie, Julia Roberts Pretty Woman, Lush Cosmetics, Pretty Woman bathtub scene, Scarface bathtub scene, Seasame Street, shower, Snoop Dog