My Kessa Glove Story

When I was little, the Kessa glove and I had a love-hate relationship except there wasn’t much love.

Bath time with the Kessa glove was something I dreaded. I would sit there, horrified, as dirt seemed to peel off my skin, convinced the glove was to blame. “It’s putting dirt on me!” I’d cry, pointing out how wherever the glove went, dirt followed. My dad, ever the joker, would play along with my theory, nodding as if I’d uncovered some great truth. My mum, on the other hand, wasn’t having any of it. “That’s your dirt,” she’d say, scrubbing away without missing a beat.

I can’t help but laugh now when I think about those moments. My little self, stubborn and dramatic, couldn’t fathom how much grime could build up on the skin. But as I’ve grown, my perspective has completely shifted.

Today, the Kessa glove is one of my most cherished rituals. What I once dreaded has become a tool I can’t live without. Using it isn’t just about exfoliating, it’s about reconnecting with my roots, embracing the traditions passed down by my family, and taking time to care for myself.

Every time I use the glove now, I’m reminded of how far I’ve come, not just in my skincare routine but in appreciating the value of traditions. The Kessa glove is more than just an exfoliating tool, it’s a piece of Moroccan heritage that has stood the test of time, and I feel grateful to carry that with me.

So, if you’ve never tried it, I highly recommend it. It’s not just about smoother skin, it’s about embracing a tradition that’s rooted in care, culture, and connection and maybe laughing at how much you’ve grown along the way.