When did everyone suddenly stop using soap bars? This is a question I often find myself pondering.
Growing up, soap bars were a bathroom staple. In most homes, you’d find the amber translucence of Pears or a creamy Dove perched beside the sink. At my grandmother’s house, Imperial Leather reigned supreme. The memory of its paper label clinging on until the very end fascinated me. A single bar somehow lasted months. It ought to be studied.
