Happy Friday — we’re back with more Hot Bones. Last week was all about why my shoes are the only reason I’m a slow runner (and how “re-sale” sneakers are a great wallet 🤝 planet hack). 

Many thanks to all who participated in the poll. 57% of you guessed correctly: I ordered those green On running shoes, and they’re set to arrive sometime between yesterday and March.

Maybe it’s the holiday gift-buying spirit, but I’ve been on a consumer goods kick with posts lately. This week is all about bar soap’s cooler younger sister.

Within seconds of using the shower in our new place in Charlottesville, I knew it had been designed by a dude. Or really anyone who believes a single bar of soap is all you need for a full and revitalizing scrub.

Out of all the potential nooks and crannies of storage space, all the ways you could add a recessed shelf or even a protruding bar for shampoos and conditioners, body washes and creams, apricot face scrubs, shave butter, and scalp massagers — there is, alas, just one level 4 inch x 2 inch surface that can comfortably fit that.one.bar.of.soap in our shower.

And perhaps as a vindictive nod to all who believe there’s more to showering than bar soap, a counter was built in below the showerhead, but on an imperceptible slant such that as you go through your shower routine, you can watch each bottle of product slide onto the floor like the world’s most excruciatingly slow moving walkway.

Which brings me to some simple shower math: 

One misstep when you’re getting out of our shower and it’s not a hip you’re afraid of breaking — it’s fear of cascading the hundreds of half-used beauty product bottles across the bathroom floor. 

After three months of this delicate dance, I went looking for a solution.

And I just found it in the beauty aisle of the Cville Whole Foods while I was picking up CBD lotion for my tennis elbow: 

It’s called bar shampoo.

I’d heard of people using bar shampoo before, but it’s never really seemed to catch on. Maybe because it seems dangerously close to using bar soap in your hair, which — despite what the Dads of America will tell you — is not good for your scalp.

But bar shampoo has been specially engineered to turn the goop we normally associate with shampoo into highly condensed bar form.

This makes it way more cost effective — typically lasting the equivalent of 2 or 3 bottles of regular shampoo. And if you’re traveling you wouldn't need to stock up on $10 bottles of Pantene Pro V at Hudson News, because you can take bar shampoo right through TSA without an ounce of fear.

I bought the most expensive option at Whole Foods because it smelled fantastic ($14.90), but the two others on display were slightly more reasonable: $11.79 and $12.49. For comparison, I am told designer shampoos are in the $50s and up, with only one way to fact check:

Bad news alert: Less than 10% of plastic is recycled globally. One solution is to get better at recycling plastic — another solution is to just use less plastic.

Dr. Katharine Hayhoe, The Nature Conservancy’s chief scientist (and a great LinkedIn follow), lays out the geopolitical aspects of this, as well as the practical things we can do in real life, like using reusable water bottles, refillable containers, plastic-free dishwasher soap and laundry detergent, and … your girl, bar shampoo!

Bar shampoo is plastic free and the small cardboard boxes it comes in are fully recyclable. Lots more environmental benefits but let’s get to the part of the newsletter where I do an activity.

Because I’d never used bar shampoo before last week, I wanted to conduct a science experiment tracking my usage. Typically when I get in the shower I go into a fugue state where my sole goal in life is to turn the room into a sauna, so it was important to me to try and focus on documenting any observations about the product.

Day 1

Pro: This shampoo says it’s a “mint eucalyptus” scent, but honest to god this is what Hugh Jackman's yoga retreat in Tasmania must smell like. Put this under my nose after I die and my heart will start beating again. 

Really a shame that G is away for the weekend, because it’s way less common to say “hey smell my hair” while also leaning in and flicking a forelock into the cashier’s face at Wegmans.

Day 2

Con: After gripping my tennis racket for dear life this afternoon, I could have used the ease of a regular, ketchup squeeze-type bottle instead of having to vigorously lather this bar to get enough suds. Although to be fair I could also have gone for someone to peel clementines for me, carry me up the stairs, and give me a replacement set of knees.

Day 3

Pro: This is mainly a pro for G, but I’m noticing that with this shampoo I don’t end up pulling out clumps of my hair after washing — which I would typically leave in neat little piles on top of her conditioner bottles as a way to communicate, in a very distant language, “i love you!”

Day 4

Nothing much to report today, trying to think what I can tell you about my shower routine that isn’t TMI. A small con I’m noticing is that there’s nothing new to read? A bar of shampoo is great for many reasons, but it’s a big whiff on product marketing. How else will I learn that dermatologist-recommended Seen shampoo is headquartered in Bethesda, Maryland? Or that fragrance free in French is sans parfum?

Day 5

Pro: This will be a great stocking stuffer. Heck, I can get one bar for each family member while I’m shopping for soup next week. We’ll all smell so good.

Day 6

Con: I’m starting to notice that my hair feels a little drier than normal. My ends are a bit brittle and my roots are crunchy? Not a lot! But somewhat.

Going back to my thesis statement, though, there are 4,999 other bottles of product in our shower, so instead of my normal conditioner, I subbed in a fancy deep conditioner from Paris. Seemed to do the trick for today. 

Day 7

Con: It may come as no surprise, but bar shampoo is as slippery as bar soap, and thus just as easy to fumble. It will fall on your foot as hard as soap will, and you’ll yell just as loudly.

But at least your foot will be clean.

I wanted to like this product so much, but my roots say otherwise. Since the experiment ended, the dryness has gotten worse, and now I’m finding I use the bar shampoo every other day or a few times a week (which arguably is the limited cadence I should be shampooing and conditioning anyway).

But even beyond some easily fixable dryness, I think bar shampoo hasn’t caught on more widely because it doesn’t land in the middle of the Venn diagram between saving money, living healthier, and helping the planet. That’s where you can really change someone’s behavior. Instead:

Right now I’ll keep using my Brixy bar every once in a while, and I’ll certainly pack it in my dopp kit for trips. I also anticipate it being a great replacement for the 2003 Herbal Essence 2-in-1 bottle still in my childhood bathroom.

The other thing I keep wondering is if I’d chosen a different option at Whole Foods last week, the one that was labeled “moisturize,” would I have come to the same conclusion about bar shampoo overall?

Only time will tell — that one is on my list to try next. But if you try it first, let me know!

Also eager to try Peach’s “moisturizing” shampoo bar and Ethique’s “hydrating” shampoo bar, both of which have been well reviewed. Might also try a conditioner bar to really round out the picture.