I learned to shower fast the hard way: boarding school. Picture a couple dozen girls lined up outside a handful of shower cubicles, waiting for their five minutes under lukewarm water. Efficiency wasn’t really a choice: you got in, got clean, and got out before the hot water ran out, or someone started banging on the door. There was no time for exfoliating rituals or hair masks. You devised a strategy and stuck to it. Mine was shampooing first, then bodywash, and a very quick rinse while skipping the face wash (I’d do it outside, at the sink).
More than a decade later, not much has changed. I have a five-day work week. I commute. I have deadlines, half-charged AirPods, and a three-step skincare routine, because I couldn’t be bothered to do more at 7:30 am. Speedy showers are still the norm. Sure, every once in a while, I’ll entertain the idea of an ‘everything shower’—a scalp scrub, a playlist, and even a candle if I’m feeling really bougie. But halfway through waiting for a hair mask to do its magic, I’m usually bored, cold, and mildly annoyed. The truth is, that kind of maximalism just doesn’t fit into my actual life.
I first came across the ‘everything shower’ a couple of years ago on Instagram Reels. For a while, it was aspirational. The 45-minute event with dry brushing, shampoo, sugar scrubs, facial steaming, serums, and sometimes a post-shower gua sha session was peak post-pandemic self-care. But eventually, the whole thing started feeling like a joke. It was like the more the steps, the better. The more aesthetic the shelf, the more virtuous the shower. At some point, it stopped being about feeling good and became about performing the feeling of being good at taking care of yourself.
Lately, though, something has shifted. I see it in beauty subreddits, on X, even in group chats. People are tired. Not just physically, but mentally. There’s growing fatigue around hyper-ritualised hygiene that equals hyper-focused aesthetics. Do I really need three masks for one face? Do I need to steam-clean my pores on a Wednesday? The answer, increasingly, is no.
Enter the micro-routine. It’s my sanity-saving, time-respecting, high-efficiency alternative to beauty burnout. The principle is simple: do less but do it well. My shower takes less than ten minutes start to finish. There’s no 10-step prep, no spa playlist, and no nonsense. And yet, I still walk out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and not depleted.
What I love about this ritual is not just how it saves time, but also how it saves energy. In an age where we’re constantly stimulated—by advertising, content, and the internet—it feels revolutionary to pare something down. There’s peace in knowing that your shower doesn’t need to be a grand event. It can just...be a shower.
And then there’s water. The hidden cost of self-care is how much of it we use—often without even realising. A shorter shower won’t save the planet, but it does feel like a small gesture in the right direction when climate change is everywhere and AI tools are guzzling millions of gallons of water. There’s power in the stripped-down version of this much-romanticised act of showering. Sometimes, less really is more. Especially when your morning starts at 7 am.
Below, build your own short but mighty routine:
Shampoo
I use Ouai’s medium-hair shampoo—gentle, effective, and smells expensive (unfortunately, it also is). But another one I love is Schwarzkopf’s Bonacure range. I get the massive one-litre bottle and put a pump in it. If I’ve got fresh highlights, I use a purple shampoo (Kevin Murphy makes a great one called Blonde Angel Wash).
