Natural sea sponge turns tub into a luxurious lagoon
After all the holiday shopping and wrapping, the baking and the tree and the turkey — not to mention all the swabbing of the decks after the season of hosting and feasting and gift-giving is done — there is absolutely nothing left in the world that I want except a long soak in a hot bath.
Some may be inclined to follow through on their New Year’s resolutions with a new gym membership. Others might invest in a home juicer and an inspirational pile of cookbooks designed to regain their glow.
Being significantly less assured of the possibility of turning over a leaf that is in any way new, all I want from this time of year is to lie, undis- turbed in a white porcelain vessel for a significant period of time and stare out the window.
A sort of meditation, I suppose, the central focus of which is imagining oneself as a tea bag immersed in extremely hot water on its way to becoming a personal infusion.
OK, so there are a couple of teensy little things, touches really, that would make this particular meditative journey so much more pleasing.
Level 1, of course, is a good book, and a relaxing soundtrack.
One of those hydrating face masks would be nice. Fragrant candles, too, along with lovely bath salts or nourishing oils to soften and enhance the skin as it soaks are also helpful additions.
Hopefully some fine examples of these indulgences were among your Christmas haul. If so, break them out right now; there is no better time than the present to enjoy your presents.
But if you’re ready to raise the bar on the whole tub experience, the one last thing that takes it from everyday soak to mermaid level is to toss in a real sea sponge straight from the deep blue bottom of the Mediterranean.
Ever since I bought my first natural sea sponge on a beach in Corfu in my twenties, I’ve always had one perched on the edge of my tub like a bit of undersea flotsam that just happened to wash ashore during the last indoor storm.
I remember being drawn to the little lineup of them on a beach vendor’s suitcase first as objects of sheer sculptural beauty, each one just slightly different from the others so it was hard to settle on which one I wanted to take home.
It isn’t until you actually use one, however, that you begin to appreciate why it’s called a sponge in the first place. Almost weightless when dry, the husk of sea vegetation sucks up so much volume the instant it makes contact with H2O that it transforms into a heavy, soaking mass that’s almost tailor made for luxurious sluicing and rinsing.
Not only does a real sea sponge in the bath turn you into a silent film star and your tub into a Hollywood lagoon, there is something wonderfully reassuring about the fact that despite all the doom and gloom out there, such wonderful natural phenomena as sea sponges do still exist and are readily available. Karen von Hahn is a Toronto-based writer, trend observer and style commentator. Her new book, What Remains: Object Lessons in Love and Loss is published by the House of Anansi Press. Contact her at kvh@karenvonhahn.com.