Because, these days, you can buy soap which exfoliates, you see fewer pumice stones lying around bathrooms.
The bathroom in my Nan’s Balham flat had one; she was the relative charged with washing off all the grime I’d accumulated during various playtimes. She’d say my neck looked like the Black Hole of Calcutta. From this I assumed she’d been a missionary in India – in actual fact she had been a waitress in a central London Lyon’s Corner House. She did watch a lot of documentaries, though.
No longer do we have to cobble together old bits of soap or have receptacles stopping soap turning from being a solid. Perhaps this was how liquid soap was discovered? Someone who’d lain in the bath for so long, the soap had turned to mush. Archimedes perhaps? Eureka does sound like the name of a soap – I’d have bought that in the ‘60s over Lux, Camay or Imperial Leather with its built-in stand. Wright’s Coal Tar Soap was only necessary if you had miners as lodgers.
The only time our bathroom accessories changed was just after Christmas after we’d have accumulated enough Bronnley’s bath salts to build miniature Pyramids.
Rather than Mr Matey, Mum would put Fairy Liquid in my bath. It did the job, and my hands were as soft as my face 😊
Although most bath times I didn’t care what was in it, all I wanted to do was sink the Bismarck. This is not a euphemism, and nor is it the make of a German soap.
“And don’t forget to wash behind your ears, either!!” – could never have imagined Karl Dönitz saying that. /