Last Updated on April 19, 2025 by Giorgia Guazzarotti

history of pears soap

Did you know that Pears’ Soap is the world’s oldest continuous brand? Founded in 1789, their almost transparent amber soap bars are still an iconic presence in many households 200 years later.

So iconic that, when Uniliver changed the 220+ year old formula, people started a Facebook campaign to bring back the original.

Yep, people were not having it. The new version looked weird, didn’t lather the same, and smelled kind of… off. Fans who’d been buying it for decades flooded message boards and social media, saying “Why mess with something that’s worked for over two centuries?”

But what is it that makes Pears Soap so special and who invented it?

Soap in the Late 1700s

Before Pears came along, soap was mostly a rough, utility item. Think: big, smelly chunks for laundry or general cleaning – not something you’d willingly use on your face. There was no such thing as “gentle” or “skin-loving.” People used whatever was available, and a lot of it was harsh as hell.

So when Pears started making something that was not only mild but also beautiful to look at, it felt like a total upgrade. It wasn’t just a hygiene product. It was a luxury.

The Beginning Of Pear’s Soap

In 1789, Andrew Pears, a Cornish barber, opened a store in Soho, a wealthy area of London, and started making creams, powders and other beauty products.

Pretty soon, Pears noticed his socialite clientele used his products to cover the damage and dryness caused by arsenic-laden cosmetics they applied to achieve the fair, alabaster complexion that was so fashionable at the time. We’re talking full-on chemical chaos – lead, mercury, you name it. And they were slathering this stuff on their faces like it was skincare.

Seeing a gap in the market, he decided to create something that would be gentler for the skin. After a lot of experiments, Pears Soap was born. Made with glycerin and natural oils, the soap smelled like an English garden, and had a transparent appearance that set it apart from its competitors. And let’s be real: back then, most soaps were chalky, thick, and kind of gross. This was shiny, golden, and almost jewel-like. It cleaned your face and it felt fancy.

Pears was more interested in quality that quantity, so he sold his soap only to an exclusive customer base. His choice paid off. His business prospered so much, he moved his shop to Oxford. In 1851, he also won the prize medal for soap at the Great Exhibition in 1851. That medal? Basically the Victorian version of going viral.

pears soap advert

How It Became The Soap Of The Upper Class

In the early 1800s, being pale, delicate, and spotlessly clean wasn’t just a look. It was a lifestyle flex. The upper classes were obsessed with appearances, and not just the fashion kind. Looking healthy and pure was a full-time job.

And this was peak “cleanliness is next to godliness” era. Bathing had gone from suspicious and sinful (yep, really) to fashionable and morally correct. Clean skin meant clean soul. So of course the elite wanted a soap that looked the part.

Enter Pears. It was the first soap that didn’t look like something scraped out of a bucket. It was clear. Refined. Golden. You could see light through it. That was unheard of.

And it wasn’t just a pretty bar. It smelled like roses and herbs and sophistication. It didn’t reek of tallow or lye. It didn’t strip your skin. It was gentle, which was a big deal at the time because so many soaps left your face feeling like it had been sandpapered.

Plus, it came from Soho, not some shady back alley. Pears was a barber to the well-to-do, working right in the middle of London’s most stylish district. His clients were already the It crowd. So when he made something new? They trusted it. Bought it. Showed it off.

And because the manufacturing process took literal weeks -slow drying, careful finishing, all that – it stayed exclusive. You couldn’t just grab ten off a shelf. It was a “you have to know someone” kind of product. And rich people love that energy.

By the time the Great Exhibition rolled around in 1851, Pears wasn’t just a soap. It was a status symbol. And when it won the medal? That was it. The rest of the country followed suit. If you were someone in Victorian England, you didn’t just use Pears. You displayed it. You told your guests about it. You bought a fancy soap dish just for it.

Because nothing said “I’m doing better than you” like a golden bar of soap made in Soho that didn’t rip your face off.


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The Golden Era Of Pears’ Soap Advertising

When Andrew Pears retired, his grandson Francis took over and expanded the business to compete with the increasing numbers of rivals the brand now had.

In 1865, his son-in-law Thomas J Barratt, became a partner in the business. Considered “the father of modern advertisement”, he changed the distribution system and came up with the extensive advertising campaigns that have become iconic.

Barratt’s campaigns worked so well, the brand’s advertising posters are still very famous today. He appealed to people’s emotions before everyone else did, and used works of art, like Bubbles by John Everett Millais, as images for his posters. They were famous, and reinforced the brand’s clean and safe image in people’s minds.

He also came up with catchy slogans, like the famous “Good morning. Have you used Pears’ soap?”, and convinced physicians and pharmacists to provide testimonials. He also convinced the very famous actress Lillie Langtry to appear in its advertising campaign – and paid her handsomely  for it, of course.

At the time, getting a celeb to endorse a product was unheard of. Lillie Langtry was everywhere, and suddenly, so was Pears. Barratt also came up with novel publicity schemes. For instance, he imported 250,000 French coins and had the name Pears imprinted on them before putting them into circulation.

Another scheme involved giving new parents, who placed a birth notice in the newspapers, a bar of soap and an advertising leaflet. Basically, the man was a marketing machine. He was doing influencer strategy before influencers were even a thing.

The British Empire’s Soapiest Export

As the British Empire expanded, so did Pears. It wasn’t just sold in England anymore. People were packing bars of it in their trunks and taking it with them to India, Australia, South Africa, and beyond.

Pears didn’t even need to do a big launch abroad. It just travelled. People wanted the familiar scent. The glow. That feeling of “home,” even if “home” was 6,000 miles away.

In some countries, Pears became the soap. Not one of many. The one. It went from being the secret of London’s elite to something you could find in chemist shops all over the world.

Modern Times

In the mid 1910s, Pears’ soap became part of Lever Brothers and moved production in the north west of England.

From the early 20th century, Pears also organized a “Miss Pears” competition, in which parents entered their young daughters in the hope they would be became the new face of the brand.

If you grew up in the UK, you probably remember this. It was a huge deal. Winning meant your face would be on Pears packaging across the country. Some parents treated it like the Oscars for kids.

Now, Pears Soap is made in India by Hindustan Unilever. It’s still popular, especially across South Asia, where it’s seen as a gentle, affordable, and iconic product. The formula may have changed a bit over the years, but that nostalgic scent, that golden glow, and that squeaky-clean feeling? Still there.

The Facebook Campaign That Said “Don’t Mess With My Soap”

Let’s talk about 2009. Unilever changed the formula – and Pears fans lost it. The new version had a different scent, didn’t lather the same, and had this weird jelly texture people hated. It didn’t feel like Pears anymore.

Within weeks, there was a full-blown Facebook movement to bring the old formula back. Petitions. Angry emails. Blog posts. People hoarding old bars like gold.

And you know what? It worked (sort of). Unilever backtracked and tried to make it closer to the original again. Because Pears isn’t just a product. It’s a piece of people’s lives. You can’t just quietly mess with that and expect nobody to notice.

What a fascinating story behind such a familiar bar of soap, don’t you think?