Villainess is a Tennessee-based body care brand whose catchphrase is "redefining bad." And from a casual glance at their assortment of nefariously-named products like Asphyxiate, Blood, and Silk & Cyanide, it would seem like their definition of "bad" comes straight from the repertoire of a split-personality femme fatale who could seduce you with her ripped stockings and murder you with the same material.

But take a closer look at the labels’ fine print list of ingredients, and there’s nothing but granola goodness. Despite a line-up of mostly vegan, cruelty-free products with ecologically sound ingredients-– including palm, castor seed, grapeseed, cherry kernel, and coconut oil, shea and mango seed butter, and "peace" silk-- the entire line is still inexpensive, from $5 for large hunks of soap to $15 for perfume oils. Armed with a winter-appropriate arsenal, I stepped in the shower ready to test some curiously dark, spicy, and sweet scents.

While I tend to be anti-soap-- as the act of rubbing a soap bar against my body seems masculine and conjures gritty images of Brad Pitt mixing tubs of lye in Fight Club-- I wanted to diversify my regimen and give soap a shot. So, I opened the first bar, Shrapnel-– a cream-colored soap scented with "sugared cranberries laced with ozone and incense and spiked with cracked peppercorns." Villainess soaps are cut large and aren't contoured, which make them slightly unwieldly in the first few uses. Also, the feel of the bar against my skin was initially foreign, as I'm used to foamy shower gels applied via loofah. And though I would've liked a frothier consistency (since I tend to equate suds with cleanliness), I could instantly feel that the soap was doing double duty-– cleansing and moisturizing in one swoop-– which besides my disdain for 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioners, I’m always a fan of products that multi-task.

After easing in with the mild aroma of Shrapnel, I opted to tackle a more incendiary scent, Pyromania, described as “warm black pepper, sweetened with brown sugar, and touched with a veil of smoke”–- of which the illicit odor could easily justify the allure of arson. And as for my favorite scent, Anti-Hero, a gray suede-colored bar that the label describes as "well-worn sweaty leather, the acrid smoke of cigarettes, and a soft side of honey and vanilla," I felt faintly imprinted with the incriminating scent of a seedy, downtown dive bar-- and I liked it.

After the cleansing process, and now a converted soap lover, I move on to the “dessert” stage and exfoliate with Dulces En Fuego Smooch warming body scrub, a raw sugar and sea salt concoction laced with crushed botanicals and jojoba beads which smells of “musky bitter chocolate sweetened with vanilla, touches of citrus, and inflamed with black pepper and nutmeg.” Taking a greedy two-finger scoop of the grainy mix, with only a touch of moisture, it immediately heats up when rubbed lightly. I could feel the warmth opening pores, especially on my face, and yet the mixture isn’t overly abrasive like a lot of salt scrubs. But as another dual-action product in the line, the best aspect of Smooch comes at the end, when it melts down into a light lotion that leaves a thin veil of moisture even after it’s rinsed away.

Finishing with a light layer of Wasabi Whipped-– the velvety-textured lotion scented with green tea, black pepper burn, and a brisk splash of citrus–- provides the literal icing to the Villainess experience, although I could’ve done without based on the moisturizing effects of the shower alone. Therefore, to ration my Whipped reserves, I save it to apply to my winter-wind-beaten knuckles, as ironically enough despite its name, I’ve found it’s one of the few products that won’t burn my chapped skin upon application.

As for the final verdict: while I was first roped in by the charming and cleverly-named items Villainess offers, the complex and often peculiar combinations worried me that I’d encounter olfactory overload, which I get at Lush or The Body Shop. But to my surprise, despite the fragrances being distinct and multi-dimensional, none are migraine-inducing, and they layer nicely over each other with integrated use. So while I never thought I’d want to smell like I had a criminal record, Villainess makes smelling bad seem so good.

~Leann Peterson


The Soapy Score
Looks- 9/10
Value- 10/10
Quality- 10/10
Convenience- 9/10
Total ... 38/40