096/ Five Simple Pleasures & My Favourite Thing To Do In Korea
BuySide from the WSJ asked me for gift ideas for “moms who say they don’t want anything”.
I believe this is the first newsletter I’ve published that has nothing at all to do with fashion. It is, however, a newsletter about simple pleasures, and not just for women or moms, but for everyone. If you’re into that, I invite you to keep reading!
Last week, Buy Side from the WSJ asked me for gift ideas for “moms who say they don’t want anything.” The paper specifically asked for products, so “an equitable division of household and mental labour” was out.
Instead, I submitted five simple recommendations that bring me a disproportionate amount of pleasure. Only one made it to print, so I’ll be sharing the rest with you here, including the last pick, which happens to be tangentially related to one of my favourite things to do whilst in Korea. Big hint:
My usual approach to gift giving is to select something that the recipient wants or needs, but may not buy for themselves because they view it as an extravagance. Here, “extravagance” is relative; it doesn’t necessarily mean “expensive,” just that it costs more than one would normally pay for it.
Take these napkins, for example:
In our on-going effort to civilize our kids and encourage them to wipe their hands and mouths on napkins rather than literally everything else — table cloth, placemat, shirt, sleeve, seat cushion — ordinarily, we buy standard white paper napkins in bulk.
Maybe you’re of the mindset that a 35¢ napkin is unnecessary when a 2¢ one would suffice. On the other hand, you may think that $7.50 for a pack of 20 gorgeous Strawberry Thief V&A napkins, is a small, but worthwhile indulgence to elevate your family dining experience — even if it’s just chicken fingers and fries on the menu.
Similarly, peanut and almond butters are fixtures in our household, both on toast and — in a rush — by the spoonful, but have you tried pistachio butter? It’s harder to come by, but if your gelato, macaron or baklava flavour of choice is mildly sweet, earthy and nutty, a little jar of natural pistachio butter (or with added sugar) is a real treat.
My next two recommendations for the WSJ were glassware for my two liquids of choice: water and (decaf) espresso.
I get a kick out of watching the duck “float” atop, or the turtle “swim” in, the refreshing water carried by these Ichendorf Milano glasses:
Similarly, the distinctive clink of a delicate bone china cup against its saucer elevates the sensory experience of my daily espresso sipping ritual (x5):
And, finally, my last recommendation was a bar of soap! Recently our household switched from liquid to bar soaps. For everyday, we’re using Dr. Bonner, but as a small semi-weekly pleasure, I enjoy using a richly scented luxury soap during a long, hot (and quiet) bath.
My baths bring me back to one of my favourite things to do in Korea: the 목욕탕 (“mokyoktang”/public bathhouse) 때밀이 (“ttaemiri”/body scrub).
Korean bathhouses are comprised of washing areas, hot tubs and steam rooms and are found in every corner of the country. Bathhouses play an important role in Korean culture as they’re not just a place to get clean, but also to gather and pass time with friends and family.
Mokyoktang are different from the more tourist-friendly and fancy 찜질방 (“jjimjilbang”), spa-like complexes which all contain a mokyoktang area but also relaxation areas, sleeping rooms, ice rooms, kiln saunas, TVs, cafes, etc… Jjimjilbangs are usually 24-hrs, and provide a convenient place to crash if you can’t find a taxi after a late night out (said from experience).
For my purposes, a mokyoktang is sufficient. The ritual begins by stripping down fully naked and entering the shower area with dozens of other naked women. I sit my bare bottom down on a foot-high plastic stool in front of a water tap with a hose and wash basin and commence cleaning myself from head to toe. Once I’m done, I step into a hot tub (there are usually a few tubs at varying temperatures) where I soak for about 30 minutes until my skin is pruned and primed.
From there, I move over to one of the ttaemiri beds and an 아줌마 (“ajumma”/woman) lathers every corner of my naked body up with — what else? — a bar of soap. I’ve never seen liquid soap in one of these places.
Next, the ajumma puts on a pair of the roughest scrubbing gloves you’ve ever felt, and for 30 minutes, she gives you the most aggressive, vigorous scrub you’ve ever experienced. As the Canadians would say, she is givin’er. The glove is not quite steel wool, but much more abrasive than the shower pouf that’s commonly used here in Canada.
Equally aggressive is the manner in which the ajumma manipulates your body — a flip-over here and leg spread there — lest she misses a spot. The result is the scrubbing off of layers and layers of dead skin. Occasionally, the ajumma will grab a hose or basin and slosh away the accumulated dead skin and continue on with what she doing.
The first time you see the wet, grey-ish, clumped up flakes of dead skin, and the sheer amount of it (it’s truly a “see it to believe it” situation), you’ll be at once horrified and fascinated. It’s like the first time I took a Furminator to my cat — where did all of that come from?!
For some reason, I (and most other Koreans) find these body scrubs incredibly 시원해 (“siwonhae”/refreshing). Siwonhae is a word that describes how you feel when you walk into an air-conditioned room on a hot day, but also, oddly, when you take a sip of a piping hot, “refreshing” soup. Something painful or uncomfortable like a massage can also be siwonhae.
So, my final simple pleasure recommendation is to get yourself a bar of soap and a pair of Korean scrubbing gloves and try to emulate the hot tub conditions of the bathhouse in your own bathroom. Close the door to trap the steam, soak until pruned, then lather up and give yourself a good scrub. Even though I can’t get to my back and other areas of my body, I’m still able to scrub off a substantial amount of dead skin cells under these conditions. Just don’t forget to scrub your bathtub immediately after!
What are some of your simple and inexpensive gift ideas? I’d love to hear about them in the comments!
With love and gratitude,
Irene
“The paper specifically asked for products, so “an equitable division of household and mental labour” was out.” ☠️
I loved to read about the mokyoktang! The Finnish sauna culture bears some similarities
-- it's a place to both relax and reinvigorate oneself, there is nudity and a lot of dead skin present, but typically no semi-violent scrubbing. (Then again there may be beating yourself or others with birch twigs but that's another story.) Either way, super fascinating to read about the Korean experience!
I loved your gift ideas, too. I'm a big fan of drinking my tea from a pretty teacup. (Mine is a gilded Dmitrov porcelain cup from the Soviet era.) If everything else fails, fresh flowers are always a great gift.