Why Resoré's Body Towel Is Worth It
Who knew I needed an anti-aging, antibacterial towel?
Welcome back to Worth It, a bi-weekly breakdown of the new beauty products I’ve tested and adored: I’m talking that drain-it-to-the-bottom-and-tell-my-friends-I’ve-found-The-One kind of love. If it's featured here, consider this my permission to splurge on it. Read on for the product you don’t want to live without, and catch up on the latest Worth It breakdown here.
The Promise
Like it or not, towels are often teeming with bacteria. Warmth and moisture are the equivalent to rent-controlled, Fifth Avenue apartments with views of the park for microorganisms: too good to be true, impossible to not move into. When bacteria invades towels that touch our skin, the inevitable result is annoying acne and irritation, not to mention a musty smell. That's why the Resoré Body Towel is such a revelation: Not only is it created with ingredients (Silverbac) and textiles (Tencel Lyocell) that are inhospitable to bacteria, but they're also eco-friendly and anti-aging. Combined with bamboo rayon and other plant-based fibers, this item is softer than a traditional towel which makes it gentler for the skin, and the environment. Who knew a towel could do so much?
Why I'm Obsessed
Like most people (I assume), I never though too much about the role of towels in my body care routine. I sometimes look at my slightly sad, damp towels and get frustrated because I know it's time to wash them, but living in a washing machine-free apartment means constantly weighing the pros of clean laundry against the cons of visiting a laundromat. When I first heard of the Resoré Body Towel, the price shocked me a little. Why spend $99 on a piece of fabric that does the same job a paper towel could (technically) pull off?
And then I touched it. I would love to describe the texture of this towel to you, but I actually find it almost impossible to do so. It feels like what I imagine touching a cloud would be like: fluffy and soft, but also intangible and airy. When I used it post-shower, I could've sworn that nothing was touching my body. If it weren't for the fact that I was suddenly no longer dripping on my bathmat, I truly wouldn't have felt it on my skin.
Now that the initial shock has worn off a little, I'm able to appreciate this towel on a whole other level. I've noticed a surprising decrease in the ingrown hairs that live on my legs—a condition that's exacerbated by bacteria—and the skin on my body isn't scaly these days, despite my radiator's best efforts. I've washed this towel in the laundromat's industrial machines a few times now, just to be sure that the .1% of bacteria that could live in it don't stand a chance, and it has remained as fluffy and soft as the day it arrived. Suffice to say, I don't go near my old towels anymore. Compared to the Resoré Body Towel, the others in my collection now appear as bacteria-infested, sandpaper-textured excuses for a towel. And who wants that when there are clean, fluffy options?
