I Tried Natural Sponges for Three Months — Here’s the Real Story

Quick outline

Why I tried them
How they felt
What I washed (body, face, kids, dishes)
Care that worked
Good stuff and not-so-good stuff
Who should buy
Final take

Why I even picked one up

I kept seeing plastic scrubbers pile up at home. It bugged me. So I grabbed a 5–6 inch honeycomb sea sponge by Hydrea London at a local shop. I also bought a small “silk” face sponge from Baudelaire. Later, I added a cheaper wool sponge I found online for the guest bath. Three sponges, three spots in my house. Simple test.

If, like me, you get a kick out of discovering neighborhood spots that stock low-waste essentials, you can pop your ZIP code into FuckLocal to pull up an instant map of indie shops and refill stations near you—handy when you’d rather support small businesses than default to a big-box chain. And if treating yourself extends beyond at-home tools to a pro-level body scrub or massage session, a quick peek at the Rubmaps Oakdale roundup will give you an up-to-date list of local parlors, real-user reviews, and service details so you can decide whether a spa visit should land on your self-care calendar.

Did I think they’d be weird and slimy? Yep. I was wrong. I kept notes the whole way, and you can skim my full three-month sponge journal for every messy detail.

First touch: softer than I expected

Dry, the honeycomb sponge felt stiff. Like a natural loofah, but denser. But the second water hit it, it puffed up and went soft and springy. The silk face sponge felt like a peach. So gentle. The wool sponge sat between the two. A little rougher when wet, but still kind.

That first shower was funny. I added a tiny dot of Dr. Bronner’s. Foam everywhere. The sponge held a ton of water, so I wasn’t chasing soap. I liked that.

Real-life tests that made me trust it

Shower test: The honeycomb sponge became my daily. It spread body wash fast and gave a light scrub without scraping my skin. I have dry arms in winter. It didn’t sting, even on rough patches. My elbows looked less dull after a week. Not magic. Just steady. Pairing the sponge with one of the natural body lotions I later road-tested locked that moisture in even better.
Face test: The silk sponge took off sunscreen and a thin layer of makeup with one pea of cleanser. It didn’t cloud my eyes or leave red spots. I used it on my teen too, who gets flaky skin. It helped with the flakes but didn’t make new breakouts. Win.
Kid test: My toddler hates washcloths. The little silk sponge felt like a game. He named it “Nugget.” It helped me rinse behind ears and around the neck fast. No tears. Honestly, that alone sold me.
Kitchen sink test: I tried the cheaper wool sponge on dishes for two weeks. It washed glasses and lunch boxes well. It did okay on pasta sauce. But it struggled with baked-on stuff, like my cast iron, and started to fray at week three. I went back to a coconut brush for heavy scrubbing and kept the sponge for gentle jobs.
Odd chores: I used the honeycomb sponge on our car once. It held suds and didn’t scratch. It felt slow though. I’d still reach for a big microfiber mitt next time.

Care that actually works (and won’t wreck it)

Here’s the thing: if you leave a natural sponge sitting in a wet corner, it will smell. It’s a sea animal, after all.

What I do:

After use, I rinse with warm water till it runs clear.
I squeeze (don’t twist) to get the water out.
I hang it by a string in a breezy spot. Not on a shower shelf in a puddle.
Once a week, I soak it for 15 minutes in warm water with baking soda (about 1 tablespoon per cup). Then rinse and dry.
Once a month, I add two drops of tea tree oil to the soak if it’s summer.

What I don’t do:

No bleach. It weakens the fibers.
No boiling. It shrinks and gets crumbly.
No microwave. It can scorch and smell awful.

With that care, my honeycomb sponge lasted 11 months before a few chunks fell off. The silk face sponge made it 8 months. The wool kitchen one, 3 months, but I was rough with it.

The good stuff I noticed

Gentle scrub, no red streaks
Holds lots of water and soap, so washing is quick
No plastic smell, no squeak
Biodegradable and low-waste packaging
Shapes are odd, but they fit the hand well
Kids let me clean them without drama

What bugged me (a little)

First rinse had tiny sand bits in the honeycomb sponge. It passed fast, but still.
Price: my bath sponge was around $20–28; the face sponge was $10–16. Not cheap.
You do have to baby them—rinse, hang, soak.
Not vegan, since sea sponges are animals. If that matters, a plant loofah may suit you better.
Heavy scrubbing (like burnt pans) chews them up.

Quick tip corner

Rinse well the first day. You may see a few sea specks.
Cut a big sponge in half to make it last longer and fit smaller hands.
Keep one for body, one for face. Don’t mix.
If it smells off, do a baking soda soak and let it dry in the sun.
Travel hack: the silk face sponge dries fast and weighs almost nothing.

Price and value, plain and simple

Bath honeycomb (Hydrea London): $20–30, lasted me 11 months.
Silk face (Baudelaire): $10–16, lasted 8 months.
Wool sponge (no-name online): $9–12, lasted 3 months with kitchen use.

Cost per month felt fair for the bath and face sponges. The kitchen one didn’t win the math, but it was nice for delicate glasses.

Who should buy this

If you have dry or sensitive skin and hate scratchy loofahs.
If you’re shifting away from plastic stuff at home (and even rethinking something as small as mouthwash—my honest natural mouthwash review is here ).
If you like a soft, steady scrub, not a hard scrub.
If you want a curated lineup of responsibly harvested sea sponges, the selection at Arena Naturals is a solid starting point.

Who should skip:

If you need hard scraping for pots.
If you want a set-and-forget item. Care matters here.
If you want vegan only—pick a plant loofah instead.

My final take

I went in grumpy and came out a fan. The honeycomb sponge made showers feel easy and kind. The silk face sponge became my go-to for sunscreen days and my kid’s bath. The wool sponge was fine for light dishes but not a workhorse.

Would I buy again? Yes—bath and face, for sure. Kitchen, only for gentle glassware. You know what? Sometimes the simple, squishy thing just works. And this one did, day after day.

— Kayla Sox