This week we start with what I call the Facial Brush of Shame. Which is to say the $100 electric face-sanding device I bought in a moment of weakness five-ish years ago. My friends were getting into them, claimed good results, and I, having just rolled into my thirties, caved. My skin was fine, was doing its job at keeping my insides in, but what if it could be softer, suppler, younger looking? And if, as Jack Donaghy says, your hair is your head suit, surely your face is your . . . face suit? I used it for a year or two, until the $30 replacement heads became an inconvenience and an unreasonable expense (they’re basically the printer cartridges of beauty care), and I had roughly the same degree of radiance as ever. Eventually I tried to trade it for next to nothing, only to find the batteries has somehow melted part of it with leaking acid goo.
Now, is this whole episode on me, or is it on a $532 billion global industry that has been exploiting my insecurities since before the Easter Bunny brought me my first deodorant? Is it on me, or is it on the patriarchy that ties women’s worth to their youth and beauty? It’s a little on me, and I took the lesson, but I’m also going to call this in to the complaints department for The System. (“Hello, the Patriarchy? Yes, I’ll hold.”)
I watch Queer Eye with the best of them, and I know there can be something restorative about moments of self-care. I also recognize the power of putting on my “business lipstick,” which is the fiery red of “Not today, Satan.” I’m not here to judge what you do or don’t do to your body — there are already whole industries with that on lock, and one Gwyneth is more than enough. But I also want us to be critical consumers, to learn to recognize when we’re not being empowered but exploited. This week, as we look at our self-cleaning routines, I want us each to get thoughtful about what we need, and try to make a choice that is sustainable for us and the planet.
One interesting side effect of all this staying home has been that a lot of us cast our beauty routines aside with our non-elastic pants, seeing as you couldn’t get a haircut forever and the dog thinks you smell more interesting without the shower anyway. So let’s use this opportunity to see what genuinely makes us feel good and what we might have in our overflowing bathroom cupboards that is fit for the pit (as they would say in ’90s CBC gem Street Cents).
Before we get into the nitty gritty of flesh suit maintenance, let’s nail down a few general principles (useful in this area, and all others):
Use what you have: Most of us probably have far more personal care products kicking around than we’re willing to admit. That lotion that you like less than the beachy-smelling one? Use it up. You want a new nail polish, but you already have 20 bottles gathering dust? One of them is also fine. Think you’re out of bobby pins or hair elastics? Unlikely — shake out a purse or look in your nightstand. A lot of us also probably have enough half-used lip balm to make it to the next century. Starting with what you have can save you some serious cash and cut the clutter in your cabinets. If you’re holding on to stuff you hate, pass it on: unless it’s something you use on your eyes or mouth, it can go on the curb or will be quickly spoken for in an online group.
Use less: If there’s an environmentalist’s golden rule, it should be this. You can reduce your consumption (i.e., your pollution and, happily, your spending) simply by using less of what you have already. Do you need to coat your entire toothbrush with toothpaste like on TV, or do you need an amount the size of a pea? (The latter.) Do you need to wash your hair every day, or two or three times a week? (Less washing is Jonathan Van Ness–encouraged.) When you shower, do you need to be in there for 20 minutes, or can you get it done faster? (Your water heater is one of the most energy-intensive appliances in your home — so you won’t just save water, you’ll save a bunch of energy if you shorten those soaping sessions.)
Buy the larger package: Choosing in the larger size means less packaging, plus you save money. As long as you keep an eye on the best before date and are realistic about how much you use, buying bigger is good for the planet and your bank account.
Body
You can make your shower and now-endless hand-washing a little greener with one easy swap: bar soap. Studies have shown that bar soap has a lower life cycle impact that liquid soap, which has higher transport and packaging costs and people use seven times as much soap. (That said, bar soap users tend to use more water per hand wash, so keeping the taps off as you lather can make a big difference.)
To make your skin happier, skip the Irish Spring and invest in some traditional cold-processed soap, which won’t require a lotion chaser to make your skin stop feeling tight and itchy, which we’ve been hoodwinked into thinking means clean. Most big brand soaps are actually detergents, which are made in an energy-intensive process, can be made with petrochemicals, and can strip the skin of its oils and disrupt its pH. And yes, I am a small-batch soapmaker, but here’s a flaw in my Big Bar Soap agenda: some argue that, hands aside, you don’t really need soap at all, and you’re just messing with the pH of your skin’s protective acid mantle and washing away the microorganisms who are looking after your skin. Sometimes washing can make conditions like acne or even body odour worse. So unless you’re really dirty or smelly, plain old water might do the trick. We’re not shooting for the Middle Ages standard of hygiene (aka “a thousand years without a bath”), but most of us could lather a little less.
If you want to exfoliate, do it petrochemical-free: use a loofah or rub yourself down with coffee grounds while you shower, or mix brown sugar and a little oil and pretend you paid $30 for it. A plastic netting poof is a thing we never needed (but those Dove commercials were very convincing).
The other big thing you can do for your skin: cover up in the sun and/or wear sunscreen. I’d suggest sticking to mainstream brands rather than pseudo-green alternatives: cancer is a bigger risk than any chemical exposure.
Face
First, you’ll want this facial brush . . . jk jk. All the washing principles above apply; some people skip soap and cleanse with oil or just with water. (You an also use oil in place of moisturizer — I came into some apricot oil and smear that on at night.) And before you shell out $182 for pig stem-cell serum or a 14-step Korean regimen, dermatologist Dr. Monty Lyman has some sound advice: when you take care of your body, you take care of your skin. (It’s like they’re connected!) His other advice? Wear sunscreen or stay out of the sun: it’s a bigger factor in skin’s aging than the passing of time.
As for masks, muds, etc., your most eco option is something you cook up in your kitchen, or barring that, simply adding water to dried clays (like French green, bentonite, or kaolin), which you can buy at some health food stores, like Herbs and Nutrition or Anarres Natural Health in Toronto. Less packaging and no shipping water around the world means your spa moment will be much more relaxing.
A hot tip when it comes to packaging: L’Occitane en Provence and some DECIEM stores accept all skincare and beauty product containers for recycling — not just their own. Burt’s Bees, Living Proof, and EOS will recycle their packaging if you send it back to them (free) through Terracycle, which tackles hard-to-recycle products. (Of course we know recycling isn’t an ideal solution, but with this program I can be confident it will get recycled, and I like to encourage companies to take financial responsibility for their waste.)
Hair
Shampoos and conditioners come in various levels of granola, and sometimes it takes a minute to what works for you. Right now I’m using Oneka bulk shampoo (available in Toronto at places like Karma Co-op, Bare Market, and Pretty Clean Shop), and I’m happy with it — it’s affordable, lathers well, smells good, and my hair doesn’t feel weird from using it. (They’re also a B-Corp, Canadian-owned, and source natural ingredients from a permaculture farm!) Some people go to a shampoo bar to skip the plastic and shipping of water-based products (the ones from Unwrapped Life come most highly recommended). Of course you could also try the no-poo (aka no washing) strategy, which some swear by. Some rinse with apple cider vinegar, which is also supposed to help with dandruff.
Shaving
163 million Americans used disposable razors in 2018, and since they’re generally not recyclable, that’s a lot of plastic made, shipped, and sent to landfill/ocean. But voluminous body hair still hasn’t made a comeback from its ’60s heyday, so what’s a person to do? One good policy is not to keep your razor in the shower: the blades will dull faster there. Beyond that, here are a few rungs on the ladder towards better razor sustainability.
Buy the razors with replaceable heads. Then at least you’re not throwing out the whole handle each time.
If you buy Gilette products, you can send the razors and all the packaging to be recycled free by Terracycle. There’s also a drop-off box at many locations across Canada (and an unofficial one at my house, if want to offload on me).
Try a safety razor. These suckers seem intimidating but are having a real comeback and bring a certain mid-century-modern elegance to the bathroom. These usually have a single blade, which can actually mean less irritation and red bumps. The most affordable one I’ve seen is this $10 unit from Anarres Natural Health, but there’s a whole range of options out there.
Using electric razors also skirts the disposable cartridge problem, though of course they use energy and, oddly, disposable cleaning cartridges.
As for shaving cream, those aerosol cans are recyclable in Toronto, but check for your area. And is specialized shaving cream/gel even necessary? I haven’t used it in over a decade. You can buy nice shaving bars and an old-timey lather brush, which works great; regular soap will do; and I’ve found conditioner works well for legs. Allegedly, when Albert Einstein was asked why he didn’t use the newly invented shaving foam, he replied, “Two soaps? That is too complicated!” (Imagine the man in a Sephora.)
Oral hygiene
Speaking of other plastic sticks we love to throw away, Americans toss about a billion plastic toothbrushes a year, enough to wrap around the planet four times. Bamboo toothbrushes are pretty widely available now, though if you’re buying one, check to see if the bristles are also biodegradable (if not, they need to be removed before composting). They also can’t go in city compost in Toronto, but you can put them in a home compost or simply bury them in the ground. I’ll admit to still using a rechargeable electric toothbrush, but at least I’m only throwing out a brush head two or three times a year.
Toothpaste is a little trickier. There are plenty of “natural” products without fluoride, and a few with it. Personally I need fluoride or my teeth turn to Swiss cheese. Tooth tabs are popular among low-waste folks (tip: you often only need half a tab) and some eco shops have refillable pastes. I’m still using the biggest tube of Colgate I can find, and while I hate to send the package to landfill, it’s the best option for me right now.
As for the few of us who aren’t lying when we tell the dentist we floss daily, refillable floss is also available (carried at many low-waste/health food stores). All of these dental products come at a premium, though, so do what’s realistic for you. But maybe when you go to the dentist, ask if those plastic pushers would consider ponying up for a Terracycle oral care recycling box at their office. (Some Toronto dentists already have them!) And it you’re a Tom’s of Maine user, they also have a free recycling program.
Deodorant
Let’s clear up something important first: there’s no evidence that using antiperspirant causes breast cancer or Alzheimer’s. Its main effect is drier armpits and, for some, skin irritation. If you’re worried about packaging, you can make your own deodorant pretty easily (1 part baking soda, 1 part arrowroot flower or cornstarch, and enough melted coconut oil to make a paste), but it will run in white rivers down your armpits with a heavy sweat, and my very science-minded DIY guru says baking soda isn’t great for putting on your skin. I’ve tried a few natural deodorants, and my favourite is Routine (which is refillable, comes in baking-soda-free versions, and smells amazing), but it’s not cheap.
Menstrual products
I devoted a whole newsletter to this topic already, so if you missed it, check it out.
Now there are all kinds of other greener options, from makeup to reusable ear swabs to making your own flax hair gel. But also remember that we’re making way more waste and plastic with our food purchases, way more CO2 in cars or new clothes. So if you need to throw out your plastic floss container, I’m not calling the Shame Police. Do your best, focus on the biggest battles. And I won’t complain if you need to do it wearing conventional deodorant — especially if I’m there fighting beside you.
TL;DR
First use what you have, use less, and consider buying the bigger package.
Use bar soap, or, aside from your hands (which require soap), skip lathering up altogether.
Places in Toronto with low-waste personal care items: Bare Market, Karma Co-op, Pretty Clean Shop, Unboxed Market, Anarres Natural Health (especially good for DIY), Herbs and Nutrition. Many of the items I mentioned are also available on Well.ca.
Companies that offer free recycling of some toiletry and cosmetics packaging: Gilette, Burt’s Bees, and Living Proof will recycle their own; and L’Occitane and DECIEM will take any company’s. Check the Terracycle site for details.
Wins of the Week
“We don’t know what is going to make the difference, but we know that in the end systems do shift and all the little actions add up to a new world.” — The Future We Choose, Christiana Figueres and Tom Rivett-Carnac
Ashley bought a native Larch tree and is planting it at her parents’ cottage this weekend. (My favourite wins are ones that relate a recent newsletter!)
Lindsay’s three-year-old has gone all-in on gardening and happily shares her produce with friends (even if the tomatoes aren’t quite ripe yet).
Lyn made 5.5 L of applesauce from the tree in her backyard (with a second batch to come!)
Don’t forget to send me your wins or, solely for my own amusement, examples of regrettable personal care products you’ve torched some money on. Also, if there’s a green/low-waste product you love, please do tell me about it!
Until next week!
xo
JK