Ever since I saw it on FFFFOUND! and TheDieLine.com, I just can’t stop thinking about this image of Good Day soap bars. There is just something about this soap. It’s the cleanest soap I’ve ever seen. I have to just stop and praise all the choices that this designer made; the perfect proportions between the square shape and it’s rounded corners; the way that the type is recessed into the soap with hard right angles that allow the type to read through the dark shadow this creates; and the way the curve of the “GOOD” looks like a upside-down smile, but not a frown. It’s so well designed it puts me in a time and place that’s as vivid as a memory of something that actually happened, but never did.
I’m waking up in the most comfortable king sized bed, with the softest, white, Egyptian cotton sheets ever made. I’m covered by a fluffy down comforter—so soft it looks like a giant white cloud envelopes me. My head is supported by a super stuffed down pillow. I’m in this amazing beach house in New England and it’s a warm spring day. The breeze is balmy and salty and blowing through sheer white linen curtains in a doorway where two open french doors lead to a white, concrete balcony with a view of the water. The ocean surf plays hide and seek with me as the curtains move in and out of the doorway.
The funny thing is that I don’t ever see myself actually using this soap. It’s too perfect and beautiful. I think if I owned it, I would display it the way grandma did those rose shaped soaps that sat in a bowl gathering dust, but otherwise retaining their perfect, just-milled shape—a stark contrast to the thin sliver of Irish Spring that sat next to the sink for the purpose of hand-washing.