When I was a kid, my Dad came home from a secondhand bookshop in Bristol one day, bearing several copies of the Pears Annual - an Edwardian-era publication. It was a large format (approximately A3 size), soft backed; and very quaint. The illustrations were fascinating although the stories were too densely printed and long-winded - but most interesting were the many pages of advertisements.
This was the first time I heard of Pears Soap - the manufacturers of which published this annual; presumably as a way of promoting their product.
I learned that the pronunciation was pares (not peers); but I never saw the soap or tried it - we didn't use it at home, and none of our circles used it either.
When I had grown-up, some years later; later saw some Pears Soap display in a shop and gave it a try. It came in a box and at that time (but not now) the bar of soap was loose in the box, no wrapper - which was unusual.
In other words; Pears soap is one of those "people who like this, will find this the sort of thing they like" things.
(It's moderately expensive - currently costing about one pound per bar.)
For those of us who like it, there is no competitor: our house is full of these oval bars and we even take them on holidays, so we never have to live without them.
So be careful before you try Pears soap. It is potentially addictive; and once hooked you will not even want to quit.
2 comments:
Arrgh. Imagine being packed off to boarding school or a camping trip with this is your sponge bag. Sorry Bruce but the typo in your last sentence gives it away: this is penitential soap. It belongs with dark chocolate and cross-country runs!
@Ron As I said - "people who like this, will find this the sort of thing they like". Like Marmite or Tolkien, there will always be a majority who are unmoved or repelled by Pears soap.
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