Do you have those things that you save, moving them around each time you clean, but never throwing them out because "I'm gonna do something with that someday" ?
Today is someday. I finally have not just moved the wrapper from a hotel-size soap that I've had around my dresser drawer for two years. I've "done something" by looking up "Cashmere Bouquet" on line. I already knew it was an old-fashioned product of Colgate-Palmolive because the moment I opened up the mini-bar in the hotel room, I ws transported back to the porch of my grandparent's farmhouse in Twin Bluffs, WI. This "porch" was actually a 8'X8' room into which you entered into their home; then you passed into their kitchen by going through another door with a glass window. The importance of this room was evident by the extra refrigerater, portable washing machine and other items lining the walls, surrounding the small open floor space in the center.
Right by the door there was a wooden chair with a small rug , so you could sit down and take off your boots and shoes--thus ensuring that dirt, or worse, didn't travel into the house any further. Above the chair was a calender with notes about milk pickup dates, birthdays, or other events noted in pen or pencil. There were hooks for a couple of jackets and hats, but most outerware was put away into a small coat closet that also included strange items such as hair clippers, pink permanent rods, a jar of Dippity-Do, and extra towels because that wooden chair also became the barber or salon chair occasionally for any of four generations who Grandma thought "needed a trimming" or a "wave". It was an ideal salon because of the large basined sink built into one corner--perfect for washing up after milking chores or for the many rinses of perms. In the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, you could find combs, brushes, bandaids, bactine, udder balm and Ponds cold cream--with preference to udder balm for hands chapped by winds and snows of rural Wisconsin winters.
Even now as I sniff the empty wrapper, I can "see" that bar of Cashmere Bouquet on the corner edge of the farmhouse sink. I knew then that the luscious rose-floral scent was from exotic places like France or Italy where my dad had been stationed between the Korean and Vietnam years. It was just more proof that my grandmother was a "lady" farmwife, who paid attention to nice smells and fresh fingernail polish, even with berry stains on her fingers during summer canning sessions.
On a website about the history of the soap, http://www.brandlandusa.com/2008/12/10/history-of-colgates-cashmere-bouquet/, I learned that Cashmere Bouquet was the first milled, perfumed toilet soap, introduced in 1872. It was seen as a luxury soap then, when many were making DIY soap from animal fat and lye that is still used in the process.
Alas, I have not been finding Cashmere Bouquet and Palmolive--another old-time hand soap--in any stores. It is primarily sold in discount stores and used in hotels--which is where I ran across my little cossetted bar. Ironically, it is easier to find these MADE IN USA products in Europe, U.K. and Australia (according to the website) as there it is viewed as a natural soap, made of animal tallow, lye, fragrance, glycerin and a few other ingredients.
I have held onto this soap wrapper as if a talisman that would lead me back to the simple pleasures I enjoyed as a child on my grandparent's farm. Did my grandmother love this soap, too? Did it reduce her tension and stress amidst all the bustle of daily farm life? Who says aromatherapy is a new idea!
All I know is that I want some Cashmere Bouquet in my day.
