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\n\n

\n Roman male portrait bust of Marcus Antonius. Fine-grained yellowish marble. Flavian age (69—96 A.D.). Rome, Vatican Museums, Chiaramonti Museum.\n

\n\n

Mark Antony was born in 83 BC, in the dying light of a Republic.

Rome is in its death throes — allegiances shifting between courses at dinner, assassinations discussed over imported wine, civil war as routine as morning prayers. Into this beautiful chaos steps Marcus Antonius: soldier, orator, lover, legend. The kind of man who claimed descent from Hercules and lived every day trying to prove it.

A cavalry commander under Julius Caesar, Antony rose swiftly through ranks, known for his bravery, his magnetism, and his instinct for power. After Caesar’s assassination in 44 BC, Antony emerged as one of three leaders in a fragile alliance — the Second Triumvirate — alongside Octavian and Lepidus. But Antony was never suited to bureaucracy. He was a soldier, a performer, a man who felt most alive when leading men into battle or lovers into bed.

He was not faithful. Nor was he discreet. Antony was famously entangled with women across Rome and the East — including Fulvia, who ruled in his name while he was away; Glaphyra, a Cappadocian courtesan and mother of a future Eastern king; an actress named Volumina Cytheris, whose presence scandalised polite society; and even a rumour of Atia, the formidable mother of Octavian. He would later marry Octavia, Octavian’s sister, in a bid for political peace. But none of these alliances—romantic or transactional, could prepare him for Cleopatra.

\n\n\n $\"$ \n\n\n\n

\n\n

\n The Meeting of Antony and Cleopatra, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo Italian, ca. 1745–47\n

When Cleopatra sailed into Tarsus in 41 BC, dressed as Aphrodite on a gilded barge, Antony was struck — not by the novelty of a queen, but by the reflection of himself. She was regal, theatrical, cunning, and divine. Like him, she believed in gods and stories. Like him, she lived as a myth. Their union was not just of bodies, but of archetypes: Dionysus and Isis, East and West, intoxication and rule.

Antony saw himself as a god in flesh. His love of Greek culture shaped his view of politics, power, and pleasure. He admired philosophers, worshipped Dionysus, and surrounded himself with dancers, musicians, and thinkers. To some, he was decadent. To others, dangerously romantic. But to Cleopatra, he was a man of her own kind, capable of both empire and ecstasy.

Together, they ruled the Eastern Mediterranean for over a decade, raising a royal family and envisioning a future rooted not in Roman austerity, but in Egyptian grandeur. But in Rome, their love was a threat. Octavian could not tolerate a rival dynasty. And so, in 31 BC, their forces were defeated at the Battle of Actium.

\n\n

\n\n\n $\"The$ \n\n\n

\n\n

\n The Death of Mark Antony (Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra, Act 4, Scene 15), 1780\n\n

Mark Antony died by his own sword — believing Cleopatra had perished. She had not. But when he died in her arms, bleeding in the quiet of the mausoleum she had built, he became legend.

He was no saint. But he was more than a soldier. He was a man who tried to live as the gods do — fully, sensually, and without fear of ruin.

\n\n

\n \n

\n\n \n

","handle","meet-mark-antony","gid://shopify/Article/618290610441",{"_15":182,"_183":-5,"_22":184,"_102":185,"_100":186},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/237145882889","altText","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/roman-male-portrait-bust-of-marcus-antonius_1b7390c0-b8d7-48df-9b4d-b7ea8c43d4f8.jpg?v=1780260802",735,962,"publishedAt","2026-05-31T20:48:09Z","Meet Mark Antony",{"_178":191},"letters",{"_173":193,"_176":194,"_178":195,"_15":196,"_86":197,"_187":202,"_38":203,"_163":204},{"_17":175},"

Not everything must be earned. Some things — soft mornings, warm water, scent on the skin — are simply yours. This is your invitation to linger. To bathe without urgency. To inhale and to exhale.

Here are 39 moments of personal pleasure.

Let the season of softness begin.

\n\n

\n\n\n $\"THAIS.$ \n\n

\n\n

\n THAIS. MALTA 2025.\n

\n\n

Welcome to oiling your body.

And perfuming your neck.

To tuberose, nestled in your elbow.

And jasmine in bed at midnight.

Welcome to cold showers after hot days.

To hot baths before the feast.

To milk pouring into water.

To scent that moves ships.

Welcome to the first sharp inhale.

To steam that curls between thighs.

To leaving the door open.

To falling deeper and deeper inside.

Welcome to cleansing the spirit, as well as the sweat.

To steam that opens more than skin.

To salt, tar, roses, and moss.

To the clarity of the storm rain.

Welcome to finally reaching the edge of the forest.

To taking the long way around.

To the feel of wet dew between your toes.

And time that can always be found.

Welcome to morning light dancing on damp shoulders.

To night-time silks stretched across hips.

To history that prints on the body.

Skin that remembers.

And musk that lingers still.

Welcome to mouths that hover expectantly.

To stories that unfold through scent.

To being both the question and the answer.

The one they wait for.

And the one who prepares.

Welcome to softness without strategy.

To fig-sweet air and sun-warmed sheets.

To covetousness, wantonness, and languor.

To the wetness of green crushed stems.

Welcome to bathing like you mean it

To perfumed water.

Wet collarbones.

To being unreadable.

And undeniable.

Welcome to 39BC.

\n\n

\n\n","39-pleasure-points","gid://shopify/Article/618290643209",{"_15":198,"_183":-5,"_22":199,"_102":200,"_100":201},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/237145981193","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/thais-malta-2025_8fa39366-09c2-4694-aa1e-8914512678e8.png?v=1780260981",1080,1350,"2026-05-31T20:53:51Z","39 Pleasure Points",{"_178":191},{"_173":206,"_176":207,"_178":208,"_15":209,"_86":210,"_187":213,"_38":214,"_163":215},{"_17":175}," $\"Mother$ \n\n

\n\n

When I was a child, my mother would take long baths before going out in the evening. I’d hear the rush of hot water, the music playing, and then the scent. It would drift through the house, soft and commanding. I still remember it today. Growing up in the 1990s, our home was filled with Avon products and it was the smell of Skin So Soft Bath Oil that cut through the steam. The bottle had a simple and sturdy design but to me, those three interlocking SSS’ hinted at sensuality and danger, as if this oil might turn you into the Cobra Queen once it touched your skin.

And my mom really did emerge as a queen from the bathroom. After using a volcanic pumice stone on her feet, and scraping a thin knife with oil over her legs (she didn’t know that the Romans did this 2000 years earlier) she then applied various body oils in jasmine and lily, before finishing with the iconic white musk perfume that was the status symbol of the 90s.

I was always transfixed. It was through watching her that I learned to be sensual, to take my time and to walk a certain way. My mom would always dress for her curves and her tall frame and then, with that trail of musk behind her, she would be out the door.

I learned a lot about power and femininity from my mother. But somewhere along the line, I lost some of that knowledge.

As I got older, I was someone who rushed, who juggled, who didn’t make time to oil my body. I was always on the go, surrounded by people, traipsing across the city and simply exhausted. When I was at the height of my stress and on the verge of a panic attack, I would visualise myself floating in water. It helped. But only temporarily.

So one day I took a bath. And then I booked a spa. And I began to sit in hot steam, hoping that these acts of soaking and washing and cleansing would connect me back to my sensual self. And they did.

The logical part of me, of course, turned it into a research project. I fell into the world of Benedictine monks and their medieval herbal tinctures. I was already a fan of Japan and Italy, so I naturally studied the architecture of Roman bathhouses and the natural heating systems of Japanese onsens. And the hammams of Morocco were a different experience altogether - I’ve literally never felt so clean in my life.

I started collecting bathing histories and experiences as a way of role playing what it might be like to have lived in another time and in another way. I’ve been to bathhouses all over the world and will keep doing so – these spaces are my happy place. I was fantasising about a slower life but I still had to come back to my reality. So I began to incorporate bathing into my daily routine, keeping it simple but always scenting the bath. Today, my nightly bath is non-negotiable.

Bathhouse culture is emerging as a growing social trend, and I get it – it’s another thing to do now that smoking and drinking aren’t respectable adult hobbies anymore. But I believe bathing is less about performance and more about return. For me, it’s not sauna raves, 5am cold showers and Instagrammable ice plunges (even though the latter two do work and I swear by them). Bathing can be a pleasant social activity but really I see it as a solo return to the womb. It’s an aqua hug for those who feel that life is going a little bit too fast. Nothing makes me feel better than getting into water, taking some slow breaths and allowing my tension to release. It is immersion in every sense of the word.

As a Gemini, productising my hobbies is a blessing and a curse, so after years of being obsessed with the bath, today I am launching my own bathing line. 39BC is a fine fragrance bathing brand that blends ancient bathing with modern cleansing so that you can feel eternal pleasure.

We are launching with four shower oils, inspired by the love affairs of Antony and Cleopatra and I’ve made a small quantity available for pre-order now.

Working on this brand has been one of the most pleasurable experiences of my business life. I get to blend my love of history, beauty and storytelling with my obsession with design, aesthetics and sensory experiences. I’ve felt very at home making 39BC and I hope you feel at home when you try it.

\n\n

\n \n

\n\n \n

\n \n \n\n ","mother-knows-best","gid://shopify/Article/618290675977",{"_15":211,"_183":-5,"_22":212,"_102":200,"_100":201},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/237224165641","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/mother-knows-best_ccf3ba0b-f399-4704-a970-b72dddc181ec.jpg?v=1780379528","2026-05-31T20:57:38Z","Mother Knows Best",{"_178":191},{"_173":217,"_176":218,"_178":219,"_15":220,"_86":221,"_187":226,"_38":227,"_163":228},{"_17":175},"\n $\"Slow$ \n\n\n

\n\n

\n Slow bathing in the Roman rock baths of Malta, 2025\n

\n\n

Before we are born, we are held in water. That first immersion — warm, sensory, enveloping — is where life begins. Across cultures and centuries, we return to water to restore ourselves.

At 39BC, we are building a brand around that return.

Today’s consumer is turning inward — away from speed, noise, and hyper-performance, toward presence and embodied care. You see it in the rise of sauna culture, the revival of ancient bathing rituals, and the renewed interest in touch, scent, and somatic awareness. Pleasure is no longer indulgence; it is grounding. It is care.

39BC sits at the intersection of this cultural shift. We explore beauty as pleasure, bathing as ceremony, and immersion as a way back to the body. Each of our bath and body products is historically informed, sensorially rich, and designed to help you feel — not just appear — better.

\n $\"One$ \n\n

\n\n

\n One of the Roman rock pools of the Sliema Baths, Malta, 2025 - credit: Robinson Barbosa\n\n

\n\n

Every product begins with a story. Scent becomes memory. Texture becomes time. Our launch range draws from ancient figures and their bathing practices, guided by history and sharpened by storytelling.

We launched today.

\n\n

For those searching the future of slow beauty, historically grounded wellness, and ritual bathing, 39BC invites you to return to yourself.

Discover 39BC

\n\n

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