This ultra-smooth soap with a silken lather has a rather complex scent that first greets you with the brightness of fresh lemon and
reviving orange blossom. But a moment before you label this soap a citrus, you are approached by woodsy, sweet mimosa and the
even sweeter, ultra feminine jasmine. This combination of fruits and fountain-of-youth floras in itself oft reminds you of fragrant, mid-
May afternoons spent sitting under cherry blossom trees in a quietly secluded, wooded park. However, on top of this aromatic imagery,
I find there’s an additional powdery, slightly sickly sweetness that doesn’t quite seem to fit into this painted picture. In the shower, I’ve
never been able to quite put my finger on it. Three bars later, my nose gave up on solving the riddle, finally checking out the ingredients
to see what it could find. As expected, I found the unexpected: brown sugar and cocoa powder, the former quite likely being the primary
supplier of that strange top note. And while I’m quite certain there are those who adore every aspect of 17 Cherry Tree Lane’s
fragrance (shared by Sakura bath ballistic), I find this added sweetness rather unnecessary, if not slightly distracting from an otherwise
sensual calm, evocative of lazy days in the full bloom of spring’s breeze.
reviving orange blossom. But a moment before you label this soap a citrus, you are approached by woodsy, sweet mimosa and the
even sweeter, ultra feminine jasmine. This combination of fruits and fountain-of-youth floras in itself oft reminds you of fragrant, mid-
May afternoons spent sitting under cherry blossom trees in a quietly secluded, wooded park. However, on top of this aromatic imagery,
I find there’s an additional powdery, slightly sickly sweetness that doesn’t quite seem to fit into this painted picture. In the shower, I’ve
never been able to quite put my finger on it. Three bars later, my nose gave up on solving the riddle, finally checking out the ingredients
to see what it could find. As expected, I found the unexpected: brown sugar and cocoa powder, the former quite likely being the primary
supplier of that strange top note. And while I’m quite certain there are those who adore every aspect of 17 Cherry Tree Lane’s
fragrance (shared by Sakura bath ballistic), I find this added sweetness rather unnecessary, if not slightly distracting from an otherwise
sensual calm, evocative of lazy days in the full bloom of spring’s breeze.
A virginally white, sweetly scented, ultra feminine soap, Alkmaar successfully combines soothing honeysuckle, compassionate
amaranth, seductive Queen Of The Night jasmine, and “oil of tranquility” vetivert to impart a soft, luxurious fragrance that will simply
blow your freakin’ mind! (In fact, my only complaint regarding Alkmaar’s delicate scent is that Lush should give us even more of it!)
This is THE soap to use anytime you need to remind yourself that you ARE beautiful, you ARE sexy, you ARE woman, dammit, and may
the world hear you purrrr! Not only will Alkmaar’s delicate aroma make you smell divine, but it also has THE creamiest lather of all of
Lush’s soaps, making even the driest skin delectably strokable. (Heck, I even ran out of shampoo once during my travels and naughtily
used this soap on my hair. Normally, such bad beauty behaviour results in a mane of mess, but my drier locks actually didn’t suffer too
badly with Alkmaar, believe it or not!) My advice: follow an Alkmaar shower with a dusting of Lush’s jasmine and vetivert Silky
Underwear (no, dusting powder is not for grannies--in this case, it’s for goddesses only), and you’re guaranteed to keep any man on
his toes ‘til his weakening legs finally give out on him.
amaranth, seductive Queen Of The Night jasmine, and “oil of tranquility” vetivert to impart a soft, luxurious fragrance that will simply
blow your freakin’ mind! (In fact, my only complaint regarding Alkmaar’s delicate scent is that Lush should give us even more of it!)
This is THE soap to use anytime you need to remind yourself that you ARE beautiful, you ARE sexy, you ARE woman, dammit, and may
the world hear you purrrr! Not only will Alkmaar’s delicate aroma make you smell divine, but it also has THE creamiest lather of all of
Lush’s soaps, making even the driest skin delectably strokable. (Heck, I even ran out of shampoo once during my travels and naughtily
used this soap on my hair. Normally, such bad beauty behaviour results in a mane of mess, but my drier locks actually didn’t suffer too
badly with Alkmaar, believe it or not!) My advice: follow an Alkmaar shower with a dusting of Lush’s jasmine and vetivert Silky
Underwear (no, dusting powder is not for grannies--in this case, it’s for goddesses only), and you’re guaranteed to keep any man on
his toes ‘til his weakening legs finally give out on him.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006) – This is my all-time favourite Lush Christmas Soap, and it's
clearly a favourite of many others being that Lush continues to feature it year after year. Though containing bold blasts of refreshing,
rejuvenating, detoxifying orange oil and the traditional Christmas scent of skin-toning tangerine oil (tangerines traditionally being
stuffed into stockings), this is not your usual citrus-blended soap. Thanks to a perfume of powdered sugar sweets coupled with a spry
dash of gardenia (which is an excellent anti-irritant for healing dry, cracked winter skin), the result is an incomparably unique aromatic
blend of youthful reminiscences: strawberry and vanilla ice cream, jelly beans, cotton candy and hand-in-hand strolls through
amusement parks with the boy of your dreams, a sweetly scented breeze blowing through your hair. And as if that weren't enough to
steal your heart away, Lush tops this gaiety off with the subtle scent of baby powder and virginal white flora. All of this youth-inspired
beauty not only lingers on your softened, youth-restored skin, but it also fills the bathroom with its mood-bolstering fragrance for as
long as you choose to display this pink and purple slice of gorgeousness, topped with gold stars to additionally remind you of the
starry aurora lit skies in which sugar plum fairies freely romp and play each Christmas Eve. This soap truly being a cosmetic work of
art, scroll to the top of this page, where you can treat your eyes to a whole, unsliced Angel's Delight "pie" in all her unsurpassed glory.
clearly a favourite of many others being that Lush continues to feature it year after year. Though containing bold blasts of refreshing,
rejuvenating, detoxifying orange oil and the traditional Christmas scent of skin-toning tangerine oil (tangerines traditionally being
stuffed into stockings), this is not your usual citrus-blended soap. Thanks to a perfume of powdered sugar sweets coupled with a spry
dash of gardenia (which is an excellent anti-irritant for healing dry, cracked winter skin), the result is an incomparably unique aromatic
blend of youthful reminiscences: strawberry and vanilla ice cream, jelly beans, cotton candy and hand-in-hand strolls through
amusement parks with the boy of your dreams, a sweetly scented breeze blowing through your hair. And as if that weren't enough to
steal your heart away, Lush tops this gaiety off with the subtle scent of baby powder and virginal white flora. All of this youth-inspired
beauty not only lingers on your softened, youth-restored skin, but it also fills the bathroom with its mood-bolstering fragrance for as
long as you choose to display this pink and purple slice of gorgeousness, topped with gold stars to additionally remind you of the
starry aurora lit skies in which sugar plum fairies freely romp and play each Christmas Eve. This soap truly being a cosmetic work of
art, scroll to the top of this page, where you can treat your eyes to a whole, unsliced Angel's Delight "pie" in all her unsurpassed glory.
(Discontinued in 2003) – A long bright green cylindrical soap, Bamboo possesses a fresh green scent that is suitable for both men
and women alike. Woodsy, astringent cedarwood and Australian mimosa combine with grassy vetivert, Turkish sweetgum (distilled
from tree sap) and the spicy floral aroma of cassie absolute to give you a dewy forest scent with a crisp, spiced air that leaves a subtle
but clean fragrance on the skin. Adding a coarser texture to this soap's core is a bamboo shoot concoction (from which this soap gets
its name) that is meant to provide an exfoliating action, but one that is so mild, it's ultimately barely worth noting. And being that
Bamboo contains so many astringent, antiseptic ingredients, though it works quite well on spots and oily skins, it has a tendency to be
a bit drying for others. Really, only the refreshing nature-oriented fragrance sets this soap apart, as Lush tends to rarely include green
scents in their line of soaps (in part because they usually don't sell as well, sadly enough). In fact, along those lines, I honestly can't
even think of another soap to recommend as a suitable substitute for Bamboo. But as both a softener and an exfoliator -- the very
things this soap is supposed to do best -- there is such a vast sea of superior options at Lush, that the unique concept of using
bamboo shoots for a body scrubbing soap can ultimately strike you as rather unimpressive.
and women alike. Woodsy, astringent cedarwood and Australian mimosa combine with grassy vetivert, Turkish sweetgum (distilled
from tree sap) and the spicy floral aroma of cassie absolute to give you a dewy forest scent with a crisp, spiced air that leaves a subtle
but clean fragrance on the skin. Adding a coarser texture to this soap's core is a bamboo shoot concoction (from which this soap gets
its name) that is meant to provide an exfoliating action, but one that is so mild, it's ultimately barely worth noting. And being that
Bamboo contains so many astringent, antiseptic ingredients, though it works quite well on spots and oily skins, it has a tendency to be
a bit drying for others. Really, only the refreshing nature-oriented fragrance sets this soap apart, as Lush tends to rarely include green
scents in their line of soaps (in part because they usually don't sell as well, sadly enough). In fact, along those lines, I honestly can't
even think of another soap to recommend as a suitable substitute for Bamboo. But as both a softener and an exfoliator -- the very
things this soap is supposed to do best -- there is such a vast sea of superior options at Lush, that the unique concept of using
bamboo shoots for a body scrubbing soap can ultimately strike you as rather unimpressive.
(Discontinued in 2006) – In the shop, Banana Moon possesses a potent fragrance of ripe (natural, not artificial) bananas. Now, I
happen to own one of those sniffers that thinks the whiff of over-ripe, bread-or-bust bananas is all the rage. And yet, even my snout
often manages to find something inexplicably "meh" about Banana Moon's interpretation once it hits the water. If, unlike me, you're not
entirely bonkers 'bout banana scents, never fear: both during & after your shower, this scent becomes far more subtle (nay, a bit too
subtle, to the point of altogether disappearing once it's rinsed away). Otherwise, this soap's action is quite nice: banana seeds gently
exfoliate while a rich, yoghurt packed lather leaves your skin soft, nurtured, and nourished. Of course, Banana Moon might occasionally
impart a mustard-gold slime with that lather, but whaddaya expect, considering Mother Nature designed mashed bananas to be slimy
& yellow? Had she known we'd one day be washing our gorgeous bods with them, perhaps she'd have reconsidered. In the
meantime, Lush's product designers may be geniuses, but even they can't hold sway over Mother Nature's colour coordinates. (Well, I
suppose they could if they added bog-loads of artificial colourants to their soaps, but they're far too lovely to do such a thing. And that's
but half their brilliance!)
happen to own one of those sniffers that thinks the whiff of over-ripe, bread-or-bust bananas is all the rage. And yet, even my snout
often manages to find something inexplicably "meh" about Banana Moon's interpretation once it hits the water. If, unlike me, you're not
entirely bonkers 'bout banana scents, never fear: both during & after your shower, this scent becomes far more subtle (nay, a bit too
subtle, to the point of altogether disappearing once it's rinsed away). Otherwise, this soap's action is quite nice: banana seeds gently
exfoliate while a rich, yoghurt packed lather leaves your skin soft, nurtured, and nourished. Of course, Banana Moon might occasionally
impart a mustard-gold slime with that lather, but whaddaya expect, considering Mother Nature designed mashed bananas to be slimy
& yellow? Had she known we'd one day be washing our gorgeous bods with them, perhaps she'd have reconsidered. In the
meantime, Lush's product designers may be geniuses, but even they can't hold sway over Mother Nature's colour coordinates. (Well, I
suppose they could if they added bog-loads of artificial colourants to their soaps, but they're far too lovely to do such a thing. And that's
but half their brilliance!)
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2001) – For Christmas 2001, Lush's beloved marzipan scented Snowcake Christmas Soap was
released with a new look, a new name, but the same gorgeous almond fragrance and creamy consistency. Formed to look like a big
three-dimensional snowman head (that looked so mangled and sad when it had slices taken out of it -- it was a bit like Frosty The
Snowman turned horror flick), you didn't get a slice of cake -- you got a slice of head instead. So to learn more about Big Ed, have a
look at his portrait to your left (but try not to imagine him axe murdered with bits of his noggin scattered about for purchase), say "big
head" ten times really fast, have a giggle over the punny name, and then go have a read of our Snowcake Soap review!
released with a new look, a new name, but the same gorgeous almond fragrance and creamy consistency. Formed to look like a big
three-dimensional snowman head (that looked so mangled and sad when it had slices taken out of it -- it was a bit like Frosty The
Snowman turned horror flick), you didn't get a slice of cake -- you got a slice of head instead. So to learn more about Big Ed, have a
look at his portrait to your left (but try not to imagine him axe murdered with bits of his noggin scattered about for purchase), say "big
head" ten times really fast, have a giggle over the punny name, and then go have a read of our Snowcake Soap review!
(Limited Edition for Valentine's Day 2006) – According to Lush, Big Hugs is essentially Alkmaar Soap (jasmine & vetivert, though
without the honeysuckle base -- making it more akin to the similarly scented Silky Underwear Dusting Powder) in a Valentine's Day
themed design: a bold pink "pie" topped with ivory, pink, lavender, and green hearts (and the occasional smiley face). Yet while Lush
UK sold this soap with all of its Valentine décor, Lush North America generally opted to give you a plain slice of pinkness, while selling
the decorations separately. Yes, this strikes you as a bit dull and un-festive, but trust me, you're not missing much. With the soapy
heart toppings being only slightly smaller than the size of Soft Coeur Massage Bar (quite large for a soap topping, this), you'd have to
buy a mighty big piece to get a complete heart on your slice, anyway. And not only that, but whatever bits of heart you do manage to get
will fall right off. This is owed to the base soap itself being molded and created on its own just like any other plain soap, with a flat
surface on top. Once formed and solidified in its own right, a separate layer of pink, slightly more transparent soap mixture is spread
over its surface, on top of which, soap hearts and smileys are added. But sadly, while what was intended as a layer of faux "glue"
hardens, it doesn't actually hold anything together at all, let alone hold itself to the actual soap base -- at least not once this huge soap
gets sliced. (Two large photos of an unsliced Big Hugs "pie" can be found HERE in The Wine Journal.) As soon as you unwrap your
slice, all the overlapping partial heart toppings fall off while the second layer of soapy "glue" breaks clean off in flat-bottomed slabs,
leaving you with a plain rectangular slice of pinkness after all. As for the Big Hugs shower experience, though you get a delicate hint of
soothingly sultry, sensual jasmine, it's still not enough to fill your heart with intense aromatically inspired affection; post shower, you're
left with the dissatisfaction of a one-night stand had in the quickest fashion. The gentle, creamy Alkmaar Soap's scent was already
famously subtle, yet when you consider her glammed-up little sister's "big hugs" hype, in the end, an already reserved and timidly
offered hug somehow manages to strike you as being all the more so.
without the honeysuckle base -- making it more akin to the similarly scented Silky Underwear Dusting Powder) in a Valentine's Day
themed design: a bold pink "pie" topped with ivory, pink, lavender, and green hearts (and the occasional smiley face). Yet while Lush
UK sold this soap with all of its Valentine décor, Lush North America generally opted to give you a plain slice of pinkness, while selling
the decorations separately. Yes, this strikes you as a bit dull and un-festive, but trust me, you're not missing much. With the soapy
heart toppings being only slightly smaller than the size of Soft Coeur Massage Bar (quite large for a soap topping, this), you'd have to
buy a mighty big piece to get a complete heart on your slice, anyway. And not only that, but whatever bits of heart you do manage to get
will fall right off. This is owed to the base soap itself being molded and created on its own just like any other plain soap, with a flat
surface on top. Once formed and solidified in its own right, a separate layer of pink, slightly more transparent soap mixture is spread
over its surface, on top of which, soap hearts and smileys are added. But sadly, while what was intended as a layer of faux "glue"
hardens, it doesn't actually hold anything together at all, let alone hold itself to the actual soap base -- at least not once this huge soap
gets sliced. (Two large photos of an unsliced Big Hugs "pie" can be found HERE in The Wine Journal.) As soon as you unwrap your
slice, all the overlapping partial heart toppings fall off while the second layer of soapy "glue" breaks clean off in flat-bottomed slabs,
leaving you with a plain rectangular slice of pinkness after all. As for the Big Hugs shower experience, though you get a delicate hint of
soothingly sultry, sensual jasmine, it's still not enough to fill your heart with intense aromatically inspired affection; post shower, you're
left with the dissatisfaction of a one-night stand had in the quickest fashion. The gentle, creamy Alkmaar Soap's scent was already
famously subtle, yet when you consider her glammed-up little sister's "big hugs" hype, in the end, an already reserved and timidly
offered hug somehow manages to strike you as being all the more so.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2006) – Continuing Lush's Christmas 2006 theme of product names like Ol' Blues Skies Is Back and
Bling Crosby, Bob Soap is a tribute to yet another legend: Bob Hope. Though pictured as a light green soap on Lush's websites, in
reality, Bob Soap is predominantly deep green in colour, ranging in darkness from pine to an ebonised hue. And unlike what you see
in most photos, in actuality, this soap usually looks a right mess in the shop: a large thick round of soap, small gold glitter dipped
decorations (including stars and cinnamon sticks) are "glued" onto a red wax wrapping. Most of the decorations have fallen away due
to poor adhesion, leaving the wax to feature little more than gold globs of goo and a chewed up overall appearance. But take heart:
much like Demon In the Dark Soap which features a preservative coating of black wax, you're supposed to peel the wax away anyway.
So other than being an eye sore in the shop, no harm done, right? As for the soap itself, while Lush touts its fragrance as simply
possessing a citrus and spice perfume, many customers have commented on a rather "odd" scent mixed in with traditionally seasonal
orange, clove and cinnamon. What they've detected is anise, which smells quite a bit like liquorice, generally a love it or hate it scent in
itself. In fact, an infusion of anise and cinnamon is the first listed (and therefore, most abundant) fragrant ingredient in this soap's
recipe, with anise becoming notably accentuated once wet, giving Bob a sweeter scent than people perhaps initially expect when
smelling this soap in dry form. And though anise lends a refreshingly unique spin on a rather traditional blend of spices, depending
on one's personal taste, for some, this will be a good thing; for others, it won't. Yet almost unanimously, people will agree on one
thing: the green-yellow-brown slime that cuddles up to this unreasonably fast-melting soap's lather is mildly off-putting at the best of
times. Had Lush gone ahead and coloured this soap light green as they'd originally intended, this might not have been a problem.
Instead, our misfortune is that we not only get a rather unsightly soap in the shops, but also in the shower.
Bling Crosby, Bob Soap is a tribute to yet another legend: Bob Hope. Though pictured as a light green soap on Lush's websites, in
reality, Bob Soap is predominantly deep green in colour, ranging in darkness from pine to an ebonised hue. And unlike what you see
in most photos, in actuality, this soap usually looks a right mess in the shop: a large thick round of soap, small gold glitter dipped
decorations (including stars and cinnamon sticks) are "glued" onto a red wax wrapping. Most of the decorations have fallen away due
to poor adhesion, leaving the wax to feature little more than gold globs of goo and a chewed up overall appearance. But take heart:
much like Demon In the Dark Soap which features a preservative coating of black wax, you're supposed to peel the wax away anyway.
So other than being an eye sore in the shop, no harm done, right? As for the soap itself, while Lush touts its fragrance as simply
possessing a citrus and spice perfume, many customers have commented on a rather "odd" scent mixed in with traditionally seasonal
orange, clove and cinnamon. What they've detected is anise, which smells quite a bit like liquorice, generally a love it or hate it scent in
itself. In fact, an infusion of anise and cinnamon is the first listed (and therefore, most abundant) fragrant ingredient in this soap's
recipe, with anise becoming notably accentuated once wet, giving Bob a sweeter scent than people perhaps initially expect when
smelling this soap in dry form. And though anise lends a refreshingly unique spin on a rather traditional blend of spices, depending
on one's personal taste, for some, this will be a good thing; for others, it won't. Yet almost unanimously, people will agree on one
thing: the green-yellow-brown slime that cuddles up to this unreasonably fast-melting soap's lather is mildly off-putting at the best of
times. Had Lush gone ahead and coloured this soap light green as they'd originally intended, this might not have been a problem.
Instead, our misfortune is that we not only get a rather unsightly soap in the shops, but also in the shower.
Scented with nothing but lemon, Bohemian is Lush’s simplest soap (not to mention one of their oldest, considering Bohemian dates
back to Lush's birth in 1995). In the shop, this soap will provide a refreshingly clean, enlivening fragrance, without the slightest trace of
tartness. However, not only is Bohemian’s lemony freshness overly subtle even at the best of times, but Bohemian is very quick to lose
all of its fragrance. This is consistently true, but even more so with soap slices that do not contain a great deal of whitened chunks,
meant to resemble fruit pulp and containing the bulk of Bohemian's lemon oil. Within a mere day or two, this soap’s only enticing
feature is its sunny colour and the brightening, softening effect it has on your skin. One might assume that lemon, given its acidity,
might be drying on the skin. Au contraire! In this soap's recipe, while lemon's detoxifying properties work wonders on spotty bodies, it
also leaves normal to oily skin toned and baby smooth. In fact, every time I use Bohemian, my manicurist comments on how soft my
skin is (and this without an application of body lotion.) What a shame that Bohemian’s aromatic benefits wind up being positively
nonexistent, because its skin care benefits are nothing short of stellar right across the boards.
back to Lush's birth in 1995). In the shop, this soap will provide a refreshingly clean, enlivening fragrance, without the slightest trace of
tartness. However, not only is Bohemian’s lemony freshness overly subtle even at the best of times, but Bohemian is very quick to lose
all of its fragrance. This is consistently true, but even more so with soap slices that do not contain a great deal of whitened chunks,
meant to resemble fruit pulp and containing the bulk of Bohemian's lemon oil. Within a mere day or two, this soap’s only enticing
feature is its sunny colour and the brightening, softening effect it has on your skin. One might assume that lemon, given its acidity,
might be drying on the skin. Au contraire! In this soap's recipe, while lemon's detoxifying properties work wonders on spotty bodies, it
also leaves normal to oily skin toned and baby smooth. In fact, every time I use Bohemian, my manicurist comments on how soft my
skin is (and this without an application of body lotion.) What a shame that Bohemian’s aromatic benefits wind up being positively
nonexistent, because its skin care benefits are nothing short of stellar right across the boards.
(Limited Edition for Easter 2006) – Lush's best-selling Honey I Washed The Kids Soap (see review below) has been reshaped as an
adorable long-eared bunny (which rhymes with honey) for Easter 2006. (For Christmas, it was shaped as a teddy bear and named
Teddy Bears' Christmas Soap. But luckily, unlike the limited Christmas rendition, Easter's Bunny I Washed the Kids Soap was not
made solely available in gift sets!) Scented with Lush's much-loved, divinely delicious honey toffee fragrance, not only is it shaped like
a bunny, but it even comes with a tiny piece of white or yellow cotton on its posterior. When this cotton becomes wet in the shower, it
puffs up to become a fluffy cotton tail! (Eat your heart out, Peter!) Bunny I Washed the Kids is a must-give gift for all kiddly winks to
enjoy (ages 3 to 93). Heck, even if you don't celebrate Easter, bunnies and honey are the perfect pairing of the first sighting of field
bunnies and pollinating bees to remind you that spring is finally here. Bunny doesn't just wash the kids, he also washes those last
traces of winter blues (and dry winter skin) away, too!
adorable long-eared bunny (which rhymes with honey) for Easter 2006. (For Christmas, it was shaped as a teddy bear and named
Teddy Bears' Christmas Soap. But luckily, unlike the limited Christmas rendition, Easter's Bunny I Washed the Kids Soap was not
made solely available in gift sets!) Scented with Lush's much-loved, divinely delicious honey toffee fragrance, not only is it shaped like
a bunny, but it even comes with a tiny piece of white or yellow cotton on its posterior. When this cotton becomes wet in the shower, it
puffs up to become a fluffy cotton tail! (Eat your heart out, Peter!) Bunny I Washed the Kids is a must-give gift for all kiddly winks to
enjoy (ages 3 to 93). Heck, even if you don't celebrate Easter, bunnies and honey are the perfect pairing of the first sighting of field
bunnies and pollinating bees to remind you that spring is finally here. Bunny doesn't just wash the kids, he also washes those last
traces of winter blues (and dry winter skin) away, too!
(Discontinued in 2000) – When I initially had difficulty detecting this soap’s maple syrup ingredient, (only getting a whiff of it when I’d
close my eyes and force my nose to “think” really really hard), I decided to get a second opinion from my roommate, a veritable maple
syrup connoisseur. He sniffed it and said “Hmmm. Well, it smells pleasantly sweet but only in a very vague kind of way.” He then went
on to explain that real maple syrup is quite expensive, the good stuff running almost $20US for a small bottle (and most “pancake
syrups” on the market, he said, are synthetic and not the real thing at all.) His opinion is that there’s simply not enough maple syrup in
Canadian Maple, and what is in there is low grade syrup of lesser expense, and therefore of lesser distinct fragrance. And so, this is
why when you smell Canadian Maple, you have to work really hard to specifically detect maple, leaving you with a “pleasant” but rather
nondescript sweetness, most of which is ultimately owed to tangerine and benzoin’s vanilla-esque aroma to which maple syrup
simply adds a subtle zing. And considering this soap doesn’t really seem to do much for the skin, one can only assume that it primary
feature was to be its fragrance. But once lathered, that which was nondescript becomes all that much more subtle, leaving you to work
even harder to detect Canadian Maple’s key notes, succeeding only rarely and fleetingly.
close my eyes and force my nose to “think” really really hard), I decided to get a second opinion from my roommate, a veritable maple
syrup connoisseur. He sniffed it and said “Hmmm. Well, it smells pleasantly sweet but only in a very vague kind of way.” He then went
on to explain that real maple syrup is quite expensive, the good stuff running almost $20US for a small bottle (and most “pancake
syrups” on the market, he said, are synthetic and not the real thing at all.) His opinion is that there’s simply not enough maple syrup in
Canadian Maple, and what is in there is low grade syrup of lesser expense, and therefore of lesser distinct fragrance. And so, this is
why when you smell Canadian Maple, you have to work really hard to specifically detect maple, leaving you with a “pleasant” but rather
nondescript sweetness, most of which is ultimately owed to tangerine and benzoin’s vanilla-esque aroma to which maple syrup
simply adds a subtle zing. And considering this soap doesn’t really seem to do much for the skin, one can only assume that it primary
feature was to be its fragrance. But once lathered, that which was nondescript becomes all that much more subtle, leaving you to work
even harder to detect Canadian Maple’s key notes, succeeding only rarely and fleetingly.
(Discontinued in 2006) – Cereology makes for a wonderful unisex soap, what with its fresh green fragrance joined with breezy, herbal
lavender, fresh citrus neroli, and a few drops of sweet tonka and vanilla to soften the edges. The overall result: a dew covered morning
in the heathered Scottish Highlands. (And note that the more white to beige bits you get in your Cereology slice, the sweeter and less
"green" it will smell.) One gets the feeling that Lush intended Cereology to pick up the ball where the recently discontinued fresh-cut
grass scented Soap Sod dropped it, and while many have said that Cereology smells exactly like Think Pink ballistic, I disagree; they’
re picking up on shared lavender, tonka, and vanilla (the latter two used in much lesser quantities here), while overlooking the
plenteousness of wheat which becomes particularly evident when wet. On the skin, energizing and detoxifying wheatgrass, antioxidant-
rich wheatgerm, and elasticity promoting neroli nourish your body without the slightest hint of dehydration. In fact, despite Cereology’s
flawless balance of deep-cleansing and hydrating actions, this soap is actually quite oily by nature, so be careful where you store this
soap, as the wheat oils can leave a penetrating residue in its wake, while the soap itself can feel mysteriously moist despite being
bone dry.
lavender, fresh citrus neroli, and a few drops of sweet tonka and vanilla to soften the edges. The overall result: a dew covered morning
in the heathered Scottish Highlands. (And note that the more white to beige bits you get in your Cereology slice, the sweeter and less
"green" it will smell.) One gets the feeling that Lush intended Cereology to pick up the ball where the recently discontinued fresh-cut
grass scented Soap Sod dropped it, and while many have said that Cereology smells exactly like Think Pink ballistic, I disagree; they’
re picking up on shared lavender, tonka, and vanilla (the latter two used in much lesser quantities here), while overlooking the
plenteousness of wheat which becomes particularly evident when wet. On the skin, energizing and detoxifying wheatgrass, antioxidant-
rich wheatgerm, and elasticity promoting neroli nourish your body without the slightest hint of dehydration. In fact, despite Cereology’s
flawless balance of deep-cleansing and hydrating actions, this soap is actually quite oily by nature, so be careful where you store this
soap, as the wheat oils can leave a penetrating residue in its wake, while the soap itself can feel mysteriously moist despite being
bone dry.
A potent combination of apple juice, fresh mint leaves & cloves (all wrapped in a preservative black wax, so please don't forget to cut it
off prior to usage), this soap -- best used on normal to oily skins given the aforementioned spot-combatant, sebum-reductive
ingredients -- is the most amazing mint scent on the face of the planet. (Disclaimer: not that I've tried 'em all, of course; I'm simply
working from the only possible, logical assumption here.) When wet, this unique looking soap's green apple-y bits turn a beautiful
glow-in-the-dark white, and as it covers you in a wealth of lather coupled with monsterish black-green-yellowish slime (bit gross at
times, yes, but just think of it as a physical pun on the whole "demon" theme and have a larf with it, okay?) your entire body will tingle
with intense, kick-in-the-arse minty freshness. (Get the most from its Zombie B Gone powers: use Demon In The Dark in a hot shower
with a pair of exfoliating gloves to stimulate your skin & open your pores, and then rinse with a blast of freezing cold water.) When dry,
Demon will quickly shrivel up and look like rotting food in your soap dish, but this is owed to the fact that it doesn't contain much
moisture of its own (hence the preservative wax); re-wet it and it will temporarily come back to life. Otherwise, this soap is a Halloween
season great for spotty adults (to get them out of bed as the months grow cold), and a perennial must-have for boggin' little boys who
get a kick out of pulling the legs off spiders.
off prior to usage), this soap -- best used on normal to oily skins given the aforementioned spot-combatant, sebum-reductive
ingredients -- is the most amazing mint scent on the face of the planet. (Disclaimer: not that I've tried 'em all, of course; I'm simply
working from the only possible, logical assumption here.) When wet, this unique looking soap's green apple-y bits turn a beautiful
glow-in-the-dark white, and as it covers you in a wealth of lather coupled with monsterish black-green-yellowish slime (bit gross at
times, yes, but just think of it as a physical pun on the whole "demon" theme and have a larf with it, okay?) your entire body will tingle
with intense, kick-in-the-arse minty freshness. (Get the most from its Zombie B Gone powers: use Demon In The Dark in a hot shower
with a pair of exfoliating gloves to stimulate your skin & open your pores, and then rinse with a blast of freezing cold water.) When dry,
Demon will quickly shrivel up and look like rotting food in your soap dish, but this is owed to the fact that it doesn't contain much
moisture of its own (hence the preservative wax); re-wet it and it will temporarily come back to life. Otherwise, this soap is a Halloween
season great for spotty adults (to get them out of bed as the months grow cold), and a perennial must-have for boggin' little boys who
get a kick out of pulling the legs off spiders.
If you like soft, sweet floral fragrances, then Figs And Leaves will be your choice soap. Granted, it’s not the flashiest product designed
by Lush what with its sandy brown colouring, fig seeds, and leafy topping, but its scent of rose, ylang ylang, and orange blossom
combined with a nourishing fig concoction is simply one of the most deliciously down-to-earth feminine scents going. (And if you like
this fragrance, try a Softy Bath Ballistic or follow a Figs And Leaves shower with Dust To Dust Dusting Powder. Both products have a
touch more rose at their base, but their top notes are very much the same as Figs And Leaves'.) Plus, rose is a restorative tonic for the
skin while ylang ylang is a softener that stimulates epidermal cell growth. Top that off with fig seeds that act as a mighty exfoliator and
voilà! You’ve got one heck of a glowingly youthful body and you smell fabulous to boot. Unlike other body scrubs, Figs And Leaves
soap gives you quite a few treatments for each dollar spent, and imparts a rich, creamy lather that’s second to none -- making it not
just a soap, but also a fabulous shaving cream for your legs, with its exfoliating action going quite a long way towards prevent ingrown
hairs. Yes, it's quite easy to overlook this soap when sitting next to Lush's newer, more glamourously dressed offerings, but you'd do
well to make a special effort to keep it in mind, as its multi-purpose perfection always manages to stand heads above the crowd.
by Lush what with its sandy brown colouring, fig seeds, and leafy topping, but its scent of rose, ylang ylang, and orange blossom
combined with a nourishing fig concoction is simply one of the most deliciously down-to-earth feminine scents going. (And if you like
this fragrance, try a Softy Bath Ballistic or follow a Figs And Leaves shower with Dust To Dust Dusting Powder. Both products have a
touch more rose at their base, but their top notes are very much the same as Figs And Leaves'.) Plus, rose is a restorative tonic for the
skin while ylang ylang is a softener that stimulates epidermal cell growth. Top that off with fig seeds that act as a mighty exfoliator and
voilà! You’ve got one heck of a glowingly youthful body and you smell fabulous to boot. Unlike other body scrubs, Figs And Leaves
soap gives you quite a few treatments for each dollar spent, and imparts a rich, creamy lather that’s second to none -- making it not
just a soap, but also a fabulous shaving cream for your legs, with its exfoliating action going quite a long way towards prevent ingrown
hairs. Yes, it's quite easy to overlook this soap when sitting next to Lush's newer, more glamourously dressed offerings, but you'd do
well to make a special effort to keep it in mind, as its multi-purpose perfection always manages to stand heads above the crowd.
(Discontinued in 2001) – Seinfeld's Kramer would be quite pleased with Lush's Flotsam Soap, as it takes his idea for a "beach"
fragrance and runs full speed with it. Despite top notes of lavender & lemon, this soap's base notes are predominantly sand,
seaweed, and salt water. Now, if you're one of those people who prefers to vacation in jet-setters' paradise, then you'd be better off with
Lush's Sandstone Soap, which reeks of white sand, citrus, and suntan lotion (the $50 kind). On the other hand, if your idea of a
bumper beach holiday is pebbly, non-glorified, natural beaches, then Flotsam's going to be more your speed. Nothing elegant about
this soap, I can assure you, but in my opinion, that's part of its charm. Shaped like a sand castle, Flotsam is a gritty sea & sand
exfoliating soap filled to the brim with nourishing, healing, moisturizing seaweed absolute (which is seaweed in its most concentrated,
effective form). And unlike Sandstone, the grains of sand are not only dark, rough and rugged as opposed to refined and pure, but
Flotsam contains sand throughout, rather than solely as a top layer. This has its plus and minuses: it's scrubby to the core, but over
time, it also has a tendency to become fossil-like once it's lost its moisture, much like rubbing a large rock over your flesh which, for
obvious reasons, I cannot recommend. But prior to Flotsam's fossilization, visualize this: Brazilians often butter themselves up with
suntan lotion and then rub sun-bleached sand over their golden bodies to keep their skin smooth and soft. Well, Flotsam is more the
equivalent of picking up a handful of sand from a northern Irish beach, complete with pebbles, dark brown dirt carried by the winds
(and maybe a beer bottle cap if you're lucky) and rubbing it all over your pale, lumpy bum. I always say that where Paris Hilton would
like Sandstone soap (reminiscent of topless sunbathing at a Millionaires Only resort), Sandra Bullock's character from "Two Weeks
Notice" would prefer Flotsam (reminding her of Coney Island, cut-off shorts, 50 cent flip flops, and $2 straw hats). Nothing against
Sandstone (which I love) or posh resorts (which I also love), but I guess I'm the kinda gal who'd just as readily hang out with Sandra
Bullock in Brooklyn, applying big globs of white sunscreen on our noses while small children thoughtlessly kick sand all over us. Not
as pleasing to the eye, perhaps, but no doubt equally good for the soul.
fragrance and runs full speed with it. Despite top notes of lavender & lemon, this soap's base notes are predominantly sand,
seaweed, and salt water. Now, if you're one of those people who prefers to vacation in jet-setters' paradise, then you'd be better off with
Lush's Sandstone Soap, which reeks of white sand, citrus, and suntan lotion (the $50 kind). On the other hand, if your idea of a
bumper beach holiday is pebbly, non-glorified, natural beaches, then Flotsam's going to be more your speed. Nothing elegant about
this soap, I can assure you, but in my opinion, that's part of its charm. Shaped like a sand castle, Flotsam is a gritty sea & sand
exfoliating soap filled to the brim with nourishing, healing, moisturizing seaweed absolute (which is seaweed in its most concentrated,
effective form). And unlike Sandstone, the grains of sand are not only dark, rough and rugged as opposed to refined and pure, but
Flotsam contains sand throughout, rather than solely as a top layer. This has its plus and minuses: it's scrubby to the core, but over
time, it also has a tendency to become fossil-like once it's lost its moisture, much like rubbing a large rock over your flesh which, for
obvious reasons, I cannot recommend. But prior to Flotsam's fossilization, visualize this: Brazilians often butter themselves up with
suntan lotion and then rub sun-bleached sand over their golden bodies to keep their skin smooth and soft. Well, Flotsam is more the
equivalent of picking up a handful of sand from a northern Irish beach, complete with pebbles, dark brown dirt carried by the winds
(and maybe a beer bottle cap if you're lucky) and rubbing it all over your pale, lumpy bum. I always say that where Paris Hilton would
like Sandstone soap (reminiscent of topless sunbathing at a Millionaires Only resort), Sandra Bullock's character from "Two Weeks
Notice" would prefer Flotsam (reminding her of Coney Island, cut-off shorts, 50 cent flip flops, and $2 straw hats). Nothing against
Sandstone (which I love) or posh resorts (which I also love), but I guess I'm the kinda gal who'd just as readily hang out with Sandra
Bullock in Brooklyn, applying big globs of white sunscreen on our noses while small children thoughtlessly kick sand all over us. Not
as pleasing to the eye, perhaps, but no doubt equally good for the soul.
Though it initially beats you over the head with its spiced floral perfume, once wet, Ginger Soap evens itself out to become a slice of
perfection in the shower, fragrancing your body for the long haul sans the help of an actual perfume oil. (Of course, it also serves as an
excellent layering piece with Lush’s Ginger Fragrance Atomiser, depending on the level of drama you’re hoping to achieve.) Betraying
its name, Ginger is actually scented primarily with rose; exotic ginger simply lends a gentle, spicy air to what otherwise may have been
a bogged down, been-there-done-that traditional floral. Once rose catches her breath from performing her well-choreographed
opening number with ginger (à la Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire), sweet geranium steps up, with enticingly come-hither jasmine and
playful ylang ylang gradually following suit before juniperberry (a zesty element of gin) decides to give a devilish kick to all of the above.
This isn’t just a girlie soap; it’s also a rather wicked soap. And bar those not at all partial to floral fragrances, Ginger plays the
chameleon quite well, being all things to all people…unless, of course, you intend to foolishly judge her solely by her name.
perfection in the shower, fragrancing your body for the long haul sans the help of an actual perfume oil. (Of course, it also serves as an
excellent layering piece with Lush’s Ginger Fragrance Atomiser, depending on the level of drama you’re hoping to achieve.) Betraying
its name, Ginger is actually scented primarily with rose; exotic ginger simply lends a gentle, spicy air to what otherwise may have been
a bogged down, been-there-done-that traditional floral. Once rose catches her breath from performing her well-choreographed
opening number with ginger (à la Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire), sweet geranium steps up, with enticingly come-hither jasmine and
playful ylang ylang gradually following suit before juniperberry (a zesty element of gin) decides to give a devilish kick to all of the above.
This isn’t just a girlie soap; it’s also a rather wicked soap. And bar those not at all partial to floral fragrances, Ginger plays the
chameleon quite well, being all things to all people…unless, of course, you intend to foolishly judge her solely by her name.
(Discontinued in 2002) – Pure ginger goodness with a mildly sweet coconut oil base, Ginger Man was sold by Lush both in bulk and
as an individually molded gingerbread man. And that's perfectly fitting for this soap, because it really does smell a bit like a ginger
cookie. It's packed with ginger and little more: ginger root infusion, ginger oil, and fresh ginger root. This not only gives it a deliciously
spicy scent, but it also makes it particularly kind to body and mind. Ginger warms you, lifts your spirits, injects energy into depleted
minds, relieves depression, inspires confidence, and kicks the circulatory system into action. Meanwhile, Ginger Man smooths and
tones the skin to a degree met by few others. My personal experience with this soap is that it leaves my body looking and feeling
vibrant and youthful, while simultaneously rebalancing oil production and healing acne as well. It's also lovely after a workout to
soothe tired limbs and muscles. So no matter your taste in men, if you're looking for a soap that combines a rejuvenating scent with a
myriad physical benefits, you can call off your search, as Ginger Man will no doubt be your Mr. Right.
as an individually molded gingerbread man. And that's perfectly fitting for this soap, because it really does smell a bit like a ginger
cookie. It's packed with ginger and little more: ginger root infusion, ginger oil, and fresh ginger root. This not only gives it a deliciously
spicy scent, but it also makes it particularly kind to body and mind. Ginger warms you, lifts your spirits, injects energy into depleted
minds, relieves depression, inspires confidence, and kicks the circulatory system into action. Meanwhile, Ginger Man smooths and
tones the skin to a degree met by few others. My personal experience with this soap is that it leaves my body looking and feeling
vibrant and youthful, while simultaneously rebalancing oil production and healing acne as well. It's also lovely after a workout to
soothe tired limbs and muscles. So no matter your taste in men, if you're looking for a soap that combines a rejuvenating scent with a
myriad physical benefits, you can call off your search, as Ginger Man will no doubt be your Mr. Right.
If you like Bathos Bubble Bar, you'll love this even more intense concoction of Napoleon's (and Lush founder Mark Constantine's)
favourite floral fragrance. Gratuitous Violets is indeed gratuitously packed with violets: in addition to Bathos' usual violet leaf absolute,
Gratuitous Violets raises the bar by doubling the usual dosage with a sweet violet leaf infusion. Calling forth violet's sweeter character,
ylang ylang offers a fresh floral backnote to both products (though it's simply listed as "cananga oil" in this soap's list of ingredients).
But instead of Bathos' heavier rose and jasmine flora, this soap instead opts for cedarwood oil to lend an earthier, balsamic aroma. I
like to say that while a Bathos bath reminds you of being handed a bouquet of violets, a Gratuitous Violets shower is like running
through the woods until you find yourself coming upon a clearing filled with wild violets, surrounded by breathtaking, velveteen shades
of green and purple. Certain to perfume your skin with its intoxicating forest fairy in the flowers fragrance for the remainder of the day,
Gratuitous Violets safely houses you in these gloriously calming surroundings for hours on end, leaving you wishing you could remain
there for a lifetime.
favourite floral fragrance. Gratuitous Violets is indeed gratuitously packed with violets: in addition to Bathos' usual violet leaf absolute,
Gratuitous Violets raises the bar by doubling the usual dosage with a sweet violet leaf infusion. Calling forth violet's sweeter character,
ylang ylang offers a fresh floral backnote to both products (though it's simply listed as "cananga oil" in this soap's list of ingredients).
But instead of Bathos' heavier rose and jasmine flora, this soap instead opts for cedarwood oil to lend an earthier, balsamic aroma. I
like to say that while a Bathos bath reminds you of being handed a bouquet of violets, a Gratuitous Violets shower is like running
through the woods until you find yourself coming upon a clearing filled with wild violets, surrounded by breathtaking, velveteen shades
of green and purple. Certain to perfume your skin with its intoxicating forest fairy in the flowers fragrance for the remainder of the day,
Gratuitous Violets safely houses you in these gloriously calming surroundings for hours on end, leaving you wishing you could remain
there for a lifetime.
This bright orange 'pie' is embedded with large green and pink soap gumdrops, meant to form a connect-the-dots smiley face when
viewing it whole and unsliced (as pictured). It contains three fragrances, two being incredibly sunny, "smiley", and simple in their
similarity: you'll immediately note sparkling astringent orange oil sweetened with toning tangerine to give it more of a fizzy orange soda
air. Once Happy Soap makes itself at home in your shower, on top of these summer and sunshine notes, you'll get a whiff of the third
scent: a mystery "perfume" ingredient. Some people interpret this "perfume" as being reminiscent of plastic, while others (including
me) are immediately reminded of a spiced men's sports cologne -- the result being a bright, mood-lifting perfume with masculine
undertones, making this a particularly good soap for men as well as women. Beyond fragrance, if the idea of pouring freshly
squeezed orange juice over your body makes you happy, then this soap's O.J. coloured lather will make you happy indeed -- unless, of
course, you draw the line at thickly secreted, hard-to-clean bright orange goop in your soap dish, in which case, you might need to play
the song "Don't Worry, Be Happy" for additional inspiration.
viewing it whole and unsliced (as pictured). It contains three fragrances, two being incredibly sunny, "smiley", and simple in their
similarity: you'll immediately note sparkling astringent orange oil sweetened with toning tangerine to give it more of a fizzy orange soda
air. Once Happy Soap makes itself at home in your shower, on top of these summer and sunshine notes, you'll get a whiff of the third
scent: a mystery "perfume" ingredient. Some people interpret this "perfume" as being reminiscent of plastic, while others (including
me) are immediately reminded of a spiced men's sports cologne -- the result being a bright, mood-lifting perfume with masculine
undertones, making this a particularly good soap for men as well as women. Beyond fragrance, if the idea of pouring freshly
squeezed orange juice over your body makes you happy, then this soap's O.J. coloured lather will make you happy indeed -- unless, of
course, you draw the line at thickly secreted, hard-to-clean bright orange goop in your soap dish, in which case, you might need to play
the song "Don't Worry, Be Happy" for additional inspiration.
Okay, do you remember the taste of Bit O' Honey sweets? Well, that flavour is exactly how Honey I Washed the Kids smells (and it's
even the same colour, too!) So suffice it to say that if you loved those sweets, you'll love this soap (with honey, bergamot, & orange as
its fragrant foundation) to no end. You'll also love Soft Coeur massage bar, Ma Bar bubble bar, and perhaps Honey Bee ballistic, as
well. Once showered & dry, the lingering scent on your skin will be quite subtle, which is perfect if you're not generally accustomed to
draping your body in ultra-sweet fragrances. Honey is amazingly good for soothing & smoothing the skin (credit Egypt for this
discovery, not me) and Lush uses its every advantage to the full here. Speaking of honey, like many Lushies I, too, was at first a bit
perplexed as to what could be done with the thin layer of decorative honeycomb on top. But then I found the perfect solution: use it to
gently pumice your dry heels whilst showering. Works wonders, this!
even the same colour, too!) So suffice it to say that if you loved those sweets, you'll love this soap (with honey, bergamot, & orange as
its fragrant foundation) to no end. You'll also love Soft Coeur massage bar, Ma Bar bubble bar, and perhaps Honey Bee ballistic, as
well. Once showered & dry, the lingering scent on your skin will be quite subtle, which is perfect if you're not generally accustomed to
draping your body in ultra-sweet fragrances. Honey is amazingly good for soothing & smoothing the skin (credit Egypt for this
discovery, not me) and Lush uses its every advantage to the full here. Speaking of honey, like many Lushies I, too, was at first a bit
perplexed as to what could be done with the thin layer of decorative honeycomb on top. But then I found the perfect solution: use it to
gently pumice your dry heels whilst showering. Works wonders, this!
(Discontinued in 2002) – For those who visit my home (and you're all welcome to, preferably when the place is tidy -- so please be sure
to call ahead), it’s not entirely unusual to find a teddy bear cuddling up to a translucent slice of Honey Waffle soap. No, I’m not crazy; it’s
a known fact that teddy bears are crazy for Honey Waffle soap (and if you’re not careful they may even try to ingest it which can be quite
hazardous to their health.) Honey Waffle is made from real Dorset honeycomb, with honey’s acidic edge being softened and smoothed
by sweet ylang ylang and benzoin – all of which are famous for being some of the most powerfully calming, relaxing forces in the whole
aromatherapeutic world. (And if you like Honey Waffle, you’ll also love Lush’s Flying Saucers bubble bar, which shares the exact same
sultry smooth fragrance.) Not only that, but honey is also a wonderful skin conditioner – not only is it soothing for the mind, but it’s
equally so for the body. As soon as Honey Waffle’s rich lather makes contact, skin is toned, refreshed, and nourished. Of course, I also
adore Lush’s newer honey & orange products, which similarly act as skin conditioning mood-boosters but with a slightly more
stimulating, eye-opening citrus-inspired groove going on. For example, where Honey I Washed The Kids soap is ideal for mornings or
to cheer and perk yourself up for a night out, Honey Waffle's honey & ylang ylang combo is the perfect start to a relaxing, quiet night in.
With this in mind, Lush’s honey & ylang ylang products should NEVER have been discontinued to make way for the honey & orange
product line. Both fragrant honey combinations could have (and should have) existed side by side. If you like honey-based skin care
products but find Honey I Washed the Kids soap to be a little too candy-sweet for your taste, try Honey Waffle and Flying Saucers
bubble bar, both of which tend to lean more towards an exotic sweetness with a hefty dose of grown-up sex appeal.
to call ahead), it’s not entirely unusual to find a teddy bear cuddling up to a translucent slice of Honey Waffle soap. No, I’m not crazy; it’s
a known fact that teddy bears are crazy for Honey Waffle soap (and if you’re not careful they may even try to ingest it which can be quite
hazardous to their health.) Honey Waffle is made from real Dorset honeycomb, with honey’s acidic edge being softened and smoothed
by sweet ylang ylang and benzoin – all of which are famous for being some of the most powerfully calming, relaxing forces in the whole
aromatherapeutic world. (And if you like Honey Waffle, you’ll also love Lush’s Flying Saucers bubble bar, which shares the exact same
sultry smooth fragrance.) Not only that, but honey is also a wonderful skin conditioner – not only is it soothing for the mind, but it’s
equally so for the body. As soon as Honey Waffle’s rich lather makes contact, skin is toned, refreshed, and nourished. Of course, I also
adore Lush’s newer honey & orange products, which similarly act as skin conditioning mood-boosters but with a slightly more
stimulating, eye-opening citrus-inspired groove going on. For example, where Honey I Washed The Kids soap is ideal for mornings or
to cheer and perk yourself up for a night out, Honey Waffle's honey & ylang ylang combo is the perfect start to a relaxing, quiet night in.
With this in mind, Lush’s honey & ylang ylang products should NEVER have been discontinued to make way for the honey & orange
product line. Both fragrant honey combinations could have (and should have) existed side by side. If you like honey-based skin care
products but find Honey I Washed the Kids soap to be a little too candy-sweet for your taste, try Honey Waffle and Flying Saucers
bubble bar, both of which tend to lean more towards an exotic sweetness with a hefty dose of grown-up sex appeal.
Once upon a time, Lush sold a shower gel called Freeze. Lushies the world over grieved its discontinuation in 2005, when Lush
decided to replace their classic line of gels with Shower Jellies. None of those Shower Jellies possessed the same fragrances as
the lost gels, so in 2006, Lush brought back several of their shower fragrances in the form of soaps. In fact, Ice Blue's entire recipe is
almost identical to Freeze's bar for the ingredients that make a gel a gel and a soap a soap in the first place. Like Freeze, Ice Blue
contains pure Scottish sea water, reviving peppermint, stimulating sea salt, and antiseptic bergamot and sweet orange to calm excess
oil production and blemishes. The end result is a refreshingly eye-opening concoction that's never overpowering, but perfectly
balanced with the infusion of a warm citrus top note. And the more delicate the various areas of skin, the more of a chilled tingle you'll
experience. (For example, if you happen to wash your nether regions with Ice Blue...) Ice Blue being particularly kind to all skin types,
your entire body is left feeling toned, smoothed, and soothed, while those with normal to oily skin are often left feeling as though they've
just used a top quality 2-in-one soap and moisturiser. Now, for those uncertain whether to opt for Ice Blue or Lush's other minty soap,
Demon In the Dark, I offer you this guide with which to form your decision: Demon in the Dark possesses more of a fresh green
spearmint leaf fragrance combined with autumnal apples, whereas Ice Blue is more akin to sweet peppermint à la candy canes. Plus,
Ice Blue's bright aqua colouring topped with sea foam hued nuggets is undeniably gorgeous. On the other hand, Demon In The Dark
is blackish green with a similarly coloured witches and ghouls lather, not to mention the unnerving ability to generally look like rotting
food in your soap dish. Now, with that gory visual description is it really fair of me to leave you with the option of "the choice is yours?"
Probably not, but I'm going to try to get away with it anyway!
decided to replace their classic line of gels with Shower Jellies. None of those Shower Jellies possessed the same fragrances as
the lost gels, so in 2006, Lush brought back several of their shower fragrances in the form of soaps. In fact, Ice Blue's entire recipe is
almost identical to Freeze's bar for the ingredients that make a gel a gel and a soap a soap in the first place. Like Freeze, Ice Blue
contains pure Scottish sea water, reviving peppermint, stimulating sea salt, and antiseptic bergamot and sweet orange to calm excess
oil production and blemishes. The end result is a refreshingly eye-opening concoction that's never overpowering, but perfectly
balanced with the infusion of a warm citrus top note. And the more delicate the various areas of skin, the more of a chilled tingle you'll
experience. (For example, if you happen to wash your nether regions with Ice Blue...) Ice Blue being particularly kind to all skin types,
your entire body is left feeling toned, smoothed, and soothed, while those with normal to oily skin are often left feeling as though they've
just used a top quality 2-in-one soap and moisturiser. Now, for those uncertain whether to opt for Ice Blue or Lush's other minty soap,
Demon In the Dark, I offer you this guide with which to form your decision: Demon in the Dark possesses more of a fresh green
spearmint leaf fragrance combined with autumnal apples, whereas Ice Blue is more akin to sweet peppermint à la candy canes. Plus,
Ice Blue's bright aqua colouring topped with sea foam hued nuggets is undeniably gorgeous. On the other hand, Demon In The Dark
is blackish green with a similarly coloured witches and ghouls lather, not to mention the unnerving ability to generally look like rotting
food in your soap dish. Now, with that gory visual description is it really fair of me to leave you with the option of "the choice is yours?"
Probably not, but I'm going to try to get away with it anyway!
(Discontinued in 2000) – A deep purple soap bejeweled with a stroke of golden shimmer, Icon is nothing short of breathtaking. This
soap immerses you in an intoxicatingly unique, sensually decadent, worldly scent: smoky, musky Egyptian myrrh, sweet, woodsy
sandalwood, and Mediterranean orange blossom, bergamot, & mandarin simultaneously transport your bohemian soul to velvet-
upholstered champagne lounges of New York City, tranquil tented gardens of Marrakech, bustling Arabian open-air spice markets and
breezy Turkish orange groves. Icon most certainly lives up to its name: after a shower with this soap's rich violet velour lather (best
taken with the soothing serenade of North African music), you won't be able to walk into a room without commanding the attention of
every resident mortal in the house. Lush's discontinuation of their Icon fragrance line is a total affront against all those who could have
otherwise ruled the world.
soap immerses you in an intoxicatingly unique, sensually decadent, worldly scent: smoky, musky Egyptian myrrh, sweet, woodsy
sandalwood, and Mediterranean orange blossom, bergamot, & mandarin simultaneously transport your bohemian soul to velvet-
upholstered champagne lounges of New York City, tranquil tented gardens of Marrakech, bustling Arabian open-air spice markets and
breezy Turkish orange groves. Icon most certainly lives up to its name: after a shower with this soap's rich violet velour lather (best
taken with the soothing serenade of North African music), you won't be able to walk into a room without commanding the attention of
every resident mortal in the house. Lush's discontinuation of their Icon fragrance line is a total affront against all those who could have
otherwise ruled the world.
A long, long time ago, Lush sold a deliciously creamy coconut and sweet orange soap named Quinquereme of Ninevah. (See review
below). But sadly, it was discontinued, and methinks this was 'cause no one could pronounce the dang thing! Then in the summer of
2001, Lush launched I Should Coco Soap, created with the same basic recipe as the ol' Quinquereme, but now looking like a fancy
coconut crème dessert found only at the finest French patisseries. I Should Coco not only shares the rich creaminess of
Quinquereme of Ninevah, but it is additionally packed with pink desiccated coconut to give even the most sensitive of skin types the
gentlest, richest, most moisturizing of body exfoliations (to the point where normal to oily skin can step out of the shower feeling as
though they've already applied an ultra-light body lotion, sans the time and effort!) Even better, you're generally guaranteed to get quite
a few scrubby showers from a single slice, making it one of the more cost effective exfoliating soaps on the market. So, you'd think that
I Should Coco would easily be seen as a vastly improved take on our beloved Lush coconut soap of yore. But sadly, to some degree,
it's not. Though its skin care properties are nothing short of awesome as coconut nourishes and orange oil tones the skin to extremes
generally provided solely by luxury spas (at fifty times the cost), you'll likely note that something is awry with the fragrance. While I
Should Coco looks like a dessert, and while it has the potential of smelling like a dessert, Lush now adds coriander and vetivert to
their traditional coconut soap recipe. Clearly, Lush added these ingredients for their healthful properties: coriander is a fabulous
deodorizer and detoxifier, while vetivert tonifies the circulatory system and strengthens connective tissue. And both are also stimulants
for the mind, banishing lethargy while promoting inner peace. One could credibly argue that these are wonderful supplemental
benefits for any exfoliating soap! Problem is, these grassy, earthy scents lend a musty, damp top note to I Should Coco's otherwise
toothsome aroma. And in doing so, they inevitably detract from -- rather than add to -- I Should Coco's essential base notes, often
striking you as bizarrely misplaced both in the shower and on the skin. If Lush would just remove these two ingredients and/or replace
them with similarly beneficial yet less conflicting oils, I Should Coco would, in my opinion, be undeniably perfect. And considering that
it's already knocking on perfection's door, I daresay it would be frightfully rude not to invite it in for a well deserved cup o' tea!
below). But sadly, it was discontinued, and methinks this was 'cause no one could pronounce the dang thing! Then in the summer of
2001, Lush launched I Should Coco Soap, created with the same basic recipe as the ol' Quinquereme, but now looking like a fancy
coconut crème dessert found only at the finest French patisseries. I Should Coco not only shares the rich creaminess of
Quinquereme of Ninevah, but it is additionally packed with pink desiccated coconut to give even the most sensitive of skin types the
gentlest, richest, most moisturizing of body exfoliations (to the point where normal to oily skin can step out of the shower feeling as
though they've already applied an ultra-light body lotion, sans the time and effort!) Even better, you're generally guaranteed to get quite
a few scrubby showers from a single slice, making it one of the more cost effective exfoliating soaps on the market. So, you'd think that
I Should Coco would easily be seen as a vastly improved take on our beloved Lush coconut soap of yore. But sadly, to some degree,
it's not. Though its skin care properties are nothing short of awesome as coconut nourishes and orange oil tones the skin to extremes
generally provided solely by luxury spas (at fifty times the cost), you'll likely note that something is awry with the fragrance. While I
Should Coco looks like a dessert, and while it has the potential of smelling like a dessert, Lush now adds coriander and vetivert to
their traditional coconut soap recipe. Clearly, Lush added these ingredients for their healthful properties: coriander is a fabulous
deodorizer and detoxifier, while vetivert tonifies the circulatory system and strengthens connective tissue. And both are also stimulants
for the mind, banishing lethargy while promoting inner peace. One could credibly argue that these are wonderful supplemental
benefits for any exfoliating soap! Problem is, these grassy, earthy scents lend a musty, damp top note to I Should Coco's otherwise
toothsome aroma. And in doing so, they inevitably detract from -- rather than add to -- I Should Coco's essential base notes, often
striking you as bizarrely misplaced both in the shower and on the skin. If Lush would just remove these two ingredients and/or replace
them with similarly beneficial yet less conflicting oils, I Should Coco would, in my opinion, be undeniably perfect. And considering that
it's already knocking on perfection's door, I daresay it would be frightfully rude not to invite it in for a well deserved cup o' tea!
This is a very nice layering piece for Lush’s Karma fragrance, showering you in their famously uplifting and centering orange, pine,
patchouli, and lemongrass perfume (unless, of course, you’re unfortunate enough to land one of those relatively common Karma soap
slices that are a bit weak on fragrance.) The soap, however, tends to consistently allow orange to dominate a bit more than it does in
the actual concentrated perfume, which is a bit quicker to release a slightly spicier base on the skin. This is especially beneficial for
those whose body chemistry tends to conjure up an intensely smoky incense with Karma’s perfume oil; layering it with this soap can
actually help in giving the citrus notes a bit of a lift. Those who aren’t partial to patchouli will barely find a hint of it in its usual off-putting
form here, especially with orange keeping it at bay. So don’t let bias of this sort stop you from dousing yourself in Karma’s yellow-
orange lather, much like basking in the optimistically glowing sun during the Summer of Love in an era where the ideals of peace and
compassion eternally reign supreme.
patchouli, and lemongrass perfume (unless, of course, you’re unfortunate enough to land one of those relatively common Karma soap
slices that are a bit weak on fragrance.) The soap, however, tends to consistently allow orange to dominate a bit more than it does in
the actual concentrated perfume, which is a bit quicker to release a slightly spicier base on the skin. This is especially beneficial for
those whose body chemistry tends to conjure up an intensely smoky incense with Karma’s perfume oil; layering it with this soap can
actually help in giving the citrus notes a bit of a lift. Those who aren’t partial to patchouli will barely find a hint of it in its usual off-putting
form here, especially with orange keeping it at bay. So don’t let bias of this sort stop you from dousing yourself in Karma’s yellow-
orange lather, much like basking in the optimistically glowing sun during the Summer of Love in an era where the ideals of peace and
compassion eternally reign supreme.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2003) – With a decorated Christmas wreath design (complete with silver and red soap stars and gold
bulbs on top) and what's supposed to be a Christmas tree fragrance, this dark green soap aims at a bit more complexity than the
usual pine-scented Yuletide products on the market. While pine inevitably offers a unisex core to any perfume, this particular soap's
recipe overtly leans towards masculinity: it will generally go a bit more appreciated by the blokes, what with its rich, woodsy sports
cologne air, owed to the layered addition of a secret "perfume" ingredient (this soap containing more "perfume" than pine oil,
incidentally), earthy cedarwood, peppery fennel, refreshingly green lime, and sweet gardenia -- all of which share equal if not more say
than pine once this soap is "cured" (meaning to leave it out for a few days before first use.) However, despite these layers and
because of the aforementioned year-round sporty air that increasingly steals pine's stage, as a holiday soap, Merry Christmas (Here It
Is) surprisingly tends to be a bit bland and even weak at times, lacking a certain amount of the festive, spirited charm that most Lush
Christmas Soaps are famous for.
bulbs on top) and what's supposed to be a Christmas tree fragrance, this dark green soap aims at a bit more complexity than the
usual pine-scented Yuletide products on the market. While pine inevitably offers a unisex core to any perfume, this particular soap's
recipe overtly leans towards masculinity: it will generally go a bit more appreciated by the blokes, what with its rich, woodsy sports
cologne air, owed to the layered addition of a secret "perfume" ingredient (this soap containing more "perfume" than pine oil,
incidentally), earthy cedarwood, peppery fennel, refreshingly green lime, and sweet gardenia -- all of which share equal if not more say
than pine once this soap is "cured" (meaning to leave it out for a few days before first use.) However, despite these layers and
because of the aforementioned year-round sporty air that increasingly steals pine's stage, as a holiday soap, Merry Christmas (Here It
Is) surprisingly tends to be a bit bland and even weak at times, lacking a certain amount of the festive, spirited charm that most Lush
Christmas Soaps are famous for.
This is one of the toughest Lush scents to describe. My best shot is to refer to this as Lush's soap for bourgeois bohèmes (to the point
where I finally decided to privately change its name to "Bobo".) Does Milky Bar (or the similarly fragranced Hot Milk bubble bar) smell
like boiled milk as Lush initially intended? Not really. Does it smell like “sweet chocolate” as the Lush websites claim? Not really. And
yet, if you clear your mind and deeply inhale as this potently scented soap cozies up to your skin, you can indeed detect a gently
warming, earthy semi-sweetness; it calms your hyperactive mind while throwing its arms around you in a warm, comforting embrace.
In the store and in the shower, though, while you detect an associated powdery scent, you also get a fragrance that is far less
grounded, far more ethereal than the simplicity of hot milk. And it is, in my opinion, captivating in its bona fide, stamped and sealed
Lush brand uniqueness: stimulating, mind-opening, tonifying orange oil blends with the sweet nuttiness of nourishing soya milk, and
a hefty dash of mental stillness-inducing patchouli oil. But where some might otherwise generally find themselves at odds with
patchouli oil’s overwhelming bohemian air, Milky Bar manages to coax it into conforming to her own vision, no doubt in large part owed
to her transcendental “perfume”, filled with secretive ingredients that possess a great deal of well-heeled, mainstream command.
(Alors, c'est le savon des bourgeois bohèmes!) Combine the mysterious allure of flawless contradiction with a soya inspired,
sensually silky, addictively strokeable (though ultimately slightly drying once rinsed away) lather, and you’ve found decadence’s rare
ability to wrap you in luxury while simultaneously planting your feet firmly on the ground.
where I finally decided to privately change its name to "Bobo".) Does Milky Bar (or the similarly fragranced Hot Milk bubble bar) smell
like boiled milk as Lush initially intended? Not really. Does it smell like “sweet chocolate” as the Lush websites claim? Not really. And
yet, if you clear your mind and deeply inhale as this potently scented soap cozies up to your skin, you can indeed detect a gently
warming, earthy semi-sweetness; it calms your hyperactive mind while throwing its arms around you in a warm, comforting embrace.
In the store and in the shower, though, while you detect an associated powdery scent, you also get a fragrance that is far less
grounded, far more ethereal than the simplicity of hot milk. And it is, in my opinion, captivating in its bona fide, stamped and sealed
Lush brand uniqueness: stimulating, mind-opening, tonifying orange oil blends with the sweet nuttiness of nourishing soya milk, and
a hefty dash of mental stillness-inducing patchouli oil. But where some might otherwise generally find themselves at odds with
patchouli oil’s overwhelming bohemian air, Milky Bar manages to coax it into conforming to her own vision, no doubt in large part owed
to her transcendental “perfume”, filled with secretive ingredients that possess a great deal of well-heeled, mainstream command.
(Alors, c'est le savon des bourgeois bohèmes!) Combine the mysterious allure of flawless contradiction with a soya inspired,
sensually silky, addictively strokeable (though ultimately slightly drying once rinsed away) lather, and you’ve found decadence’s rare
ability to wrap you in luxury while simultaneously planting your feet firmly on the ground.
This is, without a doubt, my all-time favourite Lush soap. And it was my very first Lush soap, too! There I was, in a virgin Lush shower
with Miranda, moaning and crying “Oh my! Oh my goodness! Oooohhh wow!” only to have my roommate run into the bathroom to make
sure I was okay! Originally named Carmen Miranda, it was created as a big soap “pie” decorated with huge pieces of carved soap fruit
on top. (See the photo at the top of our main SOAPS page.) Truly, it was nothing short of a work of art. But then it was briefly
discontinued, reformulated, and returned as Miranda, a white to light green soap with the fruit now being stirred into the soapy batter to
ensure that everyone gets chunks of fruity goodness throughout their entire slice. Miranda is as fruity as it gets, but not in the typical
Lush “citrus” vein of oranges or blackcurrant. Nonono! Miranda is unlike any other Lush scent: it smells like a Brazilian fruit salad
thanks to fresh, astringent KIWI! Now add a touch of sweet, South Sea ylang ylang flora and the lusty spice of juniper berry (both known
aphrodisiacs that are also superb for cleansing and refreshing the mind). Top it all off with anti-depressant, fruit peeled bergamot, and
get ready to kick back (unselfconsciously naked, even!) under an Amazonian pavilion while enjoying a creamy kiwi and berry meringue.
Not only is the mood-lifting scent enticingly exotic, but Miranda is also great for clarifying oily, spotty skin, even as her luxuriously rich
lather nourishes and nurtures. In all honesty, there has never been a Lush soap that smells or works as well as Miranda. Anytime you
are feeling down, take Miranda into the shower with you for an instant pick-me-up (and be sure to heavily stock up on this tropical
Dreamsicle of a soap before the dark, cold winter months set in!)
with Miranda, moaning and crying “Oh my! Oh my goodness! Oooohhh wow!” only to have my roommate run into the bathroom to make
sure I was okay! Originally named Carmen Miranda, it was created as a big soap “pie” decorated with huge pieces of carved soap fruit
on top. (See the photo at the top of our main SOAPS page.) Truly, it was nothing short of a work of art. But then it was briefly
discontinued, reformulated, and returned as Miranda, a white to light green soap with the fruit now being stirred into the soapy batter to
ensure that everyone gets chunks of fruity goodness throughout their entire slice. Miranda is as fruity as it gets, but not in the typical
Lush “citrus” vein of oranges or blackcurrant. Nonono! Miranda is unlike any other Lush scent: it smells like a Brazilian fruit salad
thanks to fresh, astringent KIWI! Now add a touch of sweet, South Sea ylang ylang flora and the lusty spice of juniper berry (both known
aphrodisiacs that are also superb for cleansing and refreshing the mind). Top it all off with anti-depressant, fruit peeled bergamot, and
get ready to kick back (unselfconsciously naked, even!) under an Amazonian pavilion while enjoying a creamy kiwi and berry meringue.
Not only is the mood-lifting scent enticingly exotic, but Miranda is also great for clarifying oily, spotty skin, even as her luxuriously rich
lather nourishes and nurtures. In all honesty, there has never been a Lush soap that smells or works as well as Miranda. Anytime you
are feeling down, take Miranda into the shower with you for an instant pick-me-up (and be sure to heavily stock up on this tropical
Dreamsicle of a soap before the dark, cold winter months set in!)
In spring of 2005, Lush discontinued the vast majority of their shower gels to make way for their line of Shower Jellies. Quite a few
Lush customers were very unhappy to say goodbye to these gels, especially when the trade-off was user unfriendly jellies, none of
which shared the same fragrances or skin care properties of Lush's classic shower gels. Just over a year later, Lush decided to make
amends by launching several soaps that recalled the essence of those lost shower products. One of the products that got cut was the
lemon, rose, lavender, tea tree, sage, and rosemary Narcotick Shower Gel, a mighty deodorizing and de-spotting wash that could also
double as a shampoo for oily hair and itchy scalps. Enter Mud Flats soap, whose fragrant ingredients are identical to Narcotick's bar
for the replacement of lemon juice with Rhassoul mud. Where tea tree and lemon combined with herbs to create a rather sharp,
medicinal scent in Narcotick, Rhassoul mud adds a milder, earthier note. Summed up, Mud Flats is like a mud bath at a
Meditteranean spa, but moved to the shower. A softer soap than most, you can even squish it between your toes! Of course, this also
means that it can be a bit messy, leaving globs of brown mush on the shower floor, but they're easily rinsed away and no harm done.
Besides, it is, after all, a mud soap, so you can't blame it for behaving like one, can you? The only disappointment is its failing to be
the deep cleansing detoxifier that one might expect it to be, especially when compared to its elder sister, Narcotick. Yet while Mud
Flats soap fails to do the business on body acne, it succeeds in softening the skin like no other. Where Narcotick could be a bit drying
for all but oilier complexions, Mud Flats leaves all skin types feeling intensely conditioned. I challenge anyone to take a Mud Flats
shower and not find themselves stroking their arms and legs all day long while feeling rather smug that they only paid £2 for what
would otherwise be a £50 luxury body treatment.
Lush customers were very unhappy to say goodbye to these gels, especially when the trade-off was user unfriendly jellies, none of
which shared the same fragrances or skin care properties of Lush's classic shower gels. Just over a year later, Lush decided to make
amends by launching several soaps that recalled the essence of those lost shower products. One of the products that got cut was the
lemon, rose, lavender, tea tree, sage, and rosemary Narcotick Shower Gel, a mighty deodorizing and de-spotting wash that could also
double as a shampoo for oily hair and itchy scalps. Enter Mud Flats soap, whose fragrant ingredients are identical to Narcotick's bar
for the replacement of lemon juice with Rhassoul mud. Where tea tree and lemon combined with herbs to create a rather sharp,
medicinal scent in Narcotick, Rhassoul mud adds a milder, earthier note. Summed up, Mud Flats is like a mud bath at a
Meditteranean spa, but moved to the shower. A softer soap than most, you can even squish it between your toes! Of course, this also
means that it can be a bit messy, leaving globs of brown mush on the shower floor, but they're easily rinsed away and no harm done.
Besides, it is, after all, a mud soap, so you can't blame it for behaving like one, can you? The only disappointment is its failing to be
the deep cleansing detoxifier that one might expect it to be, especially when compared to its elder sister, Narcotick. Yet while Mud
Flats soap fails to do the business on body acne, it succeeds in softening the skin like no other. Where Narcotick could be a bit drying
for all but oilier complexions, Mud Flats leaves all skin types feeling intensely conditioned. I challenge anyone to take a Mud Flats
shower and not find themselves stroking their arms and legs all day long while feeling rather smug that they only paid £2 for what
would otherwise be a £50 luxury body treatment.
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