In an era where celebrity branding has evolved into performance art, Sydney Sweeney may have just raised the bar — or lowered it, depending on your perspective. The actress, best known for her roles in Euphoria and The White Lotus, has partnered with men’s personal care brand Dr. Squatch to launch a limited-edition bar of soap that’s literally infused with her used bathwater. That’s not marketing hyperbole — it’s the whole gimmick.

The soap, appropriately named “Sydney’s Bathwater Bliss,” is being sold as part of an exclusive collaboration between Sweeney and the brand, known for its all-natural, humor-infused approach to grooming products. Each bar reportedly contains a few drops of the water Sweeney bathed in during a 2024 ad campaign shoot, where she lounged in a luxurious tub, surrounded by candlelight, speaking flirtatiously to “dirty little boys” about their questionable hygiene habits.

In response to the inevitable flood of thirsty comments asking whether the bathwater came with the soap, Dr. Squatch and Sweeney decided to lean into the joke — hard. Instead of letting the moment fade into meme obscurity, they immortalized it in the form of an actual product. The result? A bar of soap made for men, sold with the promise that it’s somehow touched by Sweeney’s personal essence.

It would be absurd if it weren’t so real.

Only 5,000 bars are being produced. They come packaged in sleek green-and-black boxes, accompanied by certificates of authenticity that confirm their (oddly intimate) origin. The soap is scented with Douglas fir and moss, evoking the brand’s signature rugged aesthetic, and contains exfoliating ingredients like pine bark and sand. A handful of bars were given away to fans before the official release, while the rest will be available for purchase starting June 6.

Naturally, the internet is having a meltdown.

For some, this collaboration is the pinnacle of tongue-in-cheek marketing. It’s clever, it’s funny, and it’s so outlandish that it transcends traditional advertising. It taps into fan culture, parasocial relationships, and the absurdist humor of modern internet meme culture. It’s the kind of marketing stunt that people hate to admit they admire — so weird it works.

Others, however, aren’t laughing. Critics argue the campaign crosses the line between cheeky and objectifying. It commodifies a woman’s body in a way that’s too on-the-nose for comfort, even if it’s packaged in irony. Some even liken it to OnlyFans content, calling it a sanitized, mainstream-friendly version of digital intimacy — minus the transparency or consent of a typical creator-fan relationship.

In a now-viral social media thread, one user wrote, “This feels like the moment in a dystopian movie where society has clearly lost its grip on reality.” Another added, “If a male celebrity did this, it would be seen as creepy, not cute.” Others questioned the actual hygiene or safety of such a product — although it’s worth noting that the bathwater was presumably treated, diluted, or symbolically included rather than poured in straight from the tub.

Sweeney, for her part, is brushing off the backlash. She’s described the collaboration as fun, lighthearted, and empowering — a playful way to encourage men to take better care of themselves. In interviews, she’s been clear that she’s in on the joke and wanted to do something outrageous to bring attention to natural skincare and grooming.

And to be fair, it’s not the first time something like this has happened. In 2019, YouTuber Belle Delphine notoriously sold jars of her “GamerGirl Bath Water,” which sold out almost instantly and sparked massive debate over digital intimacy, fan culture, and the boundaries of monetization. Sweeney’s soap feels like the sanitized, corporate-friendly evolution of that moment — with a celeb endorsement, premium packaging, and a team of brand strategists behind it.

Still, this kind of product raises big questions about where marketing ends and performance begins. Celebrity branding today is less about the product itself and more about the narrative surrounding it. People aren’t buying “Sydney’s Bathwater Bliss” because they need soap — they’re buying a story, a joke, a moment in pop culture they want to own.

In that sense, it’s genius. It taps into modern fandom, the thirst for exclusivity, and the surreal blend of sincerity and satire that defines so much of Gen Z and millennial culture. It’s absurd, yes, but it’s also precisely engineered to go viral. And it has.

But it also reinforces how blurred the lines have become between public persona and private intimacy. When bathwater becomes a marketing tool, it begs the question: what’s left? What haven’t we commodified? And how far is too far when selling soap — or anything else — using a human body as branding?

Whether you see the Sydney Sweeney soap stunt as empowering, creepy, brilliant, or completely unhinged probably depends on how you feel about celebrity culture, influencer marketing, and modern masculinity. After all, this is technically a men’s grooming product. But you wouldn’t know it from the way it’s being discussed online — which says something, too.

Ultimately, “Sydney’s Bathwater Bliss” is a reflection of where we are now: a hyper-connected, irony-soaked culture where branding is theatre, products are props, and nothing is too weird to sell — not even bathwater.

And if nothing else, it’s a great reminder that in 2025, you don’t need to have the best product to dominate the headlines. You just need to have the weirdest idea — and the right celebrity to go all in.