Hammam Spa: Ingredients with Memory
unpacking a few Moroccan beauty secrets
Immersed in unfurling ribbons of steam, women have gathered under domed roofs for centuries — to tend to one another, share stories, and engage in the ritual of self-care.
The hammam is a layered space. More than just a public bath, it has long been held as a safe space, a social hub, and used ceremoniously in tandem with maternal ritual knowledge.
Historically, hammams have been used in daily rituals, postpartum care, and in preparation for weddings. As much a sacred space as a public bath, many hammams are adorned with mother-of-pearl to symbolize divine light (nūr), the divine light in the Qur’an.
Adapted from Roman thermae (or thermal baths), hammam spas emerged in the 7th century during the Umayyad and Abbasid periods. It’s likely that the Abbasids adopted thermae culture after expanding into Roman territories.
But by the time Islam arrived in North Africa (7th-8th centuries), Roman thermae were already deeply embedded into the culture— because in reality, Rome got there first. North Africa was already an important facet of the Roman Empire, and thermae culture thrived there long before Islam’s arrival.
But it’s the blend of traditional North African remedies with the culture surrounding Roman bathhouses that gave way to the phenomenon we know as the ‘Moroccan Bath’ today. Ingredients like Ghassoul clay and Argan oil elevated the standard bathhouse experience and transformed it into a ritual— passed down through generations of feminine knowledge.
Even now, entering a hammam feels like a ceremonial experience. It’s a space where you can literally shed your skin and breathe in the scents of ingredients used for 1,300 years— a true ancestral memory.
In all honesty, the ritual hasn’t changed much. Men and women still have separate baths (often on separate days) and after changing out of your clothes and into a cotton towel or robe, you are led into a warm room— which allows your body to gently release tension.
Next, you move into the hotter steam chamber— where pores open and your muscles ease fully.
Once your skin has softened, you lay down on a marble slab and Black Beldi Soap or Savon Beldi is applied to the skin. Savon Beldi is rooted in Berber tradition— made from crushed black olives, olive oil, and alkaline ash, it is applied to dry skin and readies the body for exfoliation.
Once applied, an attendant will gently pour warm water over your skin and begin scrubbing with the Kessa glove— an exfoliating glove used in tandem with rhythmic motion to remove dead skin. I can confirm that you literally shed a layer of dead skin during this process.
Once the scrubbing is done, the attendant rinses you gently and thoroughly.
This process is often followed by a mud mask, using Ghassoul Clay. Found only in the Atlas Mountains, this mineral clay is rich in silica, magnesium, potassium, and calcium— allowing a skin detox without stripping natural oils. It’s deeply embedded in Berber culture and has been braided into collective knowledge for over 1,400 years.
Once exfoliated, warm Argan Oil is massaged into damp skin. Extracted from the nuts of the Argan tree -which grows exclusively in Southwestern Morocco- it’s full of Vitamin E, fatty acids, and squalene. For centuries, Berber woman have hand pressed Argan seeds, and have passed this process down through matrilineal lines— so much so that women’s cooperatives have emerged, and continue to offer Berber women employment and independence.
After you’ve been sufficiently oiled, they wrap you in a warm cotton robe and lead you into an adorned relaxation area— where you’ll be offered mint tea. It’s a way of easing yourself back into the real world in a shared and sacred space— and it’s wonderful.
Hammam spas are famously beautiful, often resembling jewel boxes, with intricate mosaics laid in the walls and ceilings. It feels indulgent, luxurious, and rooted in communal feminine knowledge. Like stepping through a time machine and walking into an Ottoman emperor’s palace— where steam curls around marble domes, light filters through star shaped skylights, and burning oud chips and rosewater sprays envelop you into the ancient ritual.
While I don’t currently live within walking distance of a hammam spa, I can re-create the ritual with steam baths and at-home treatments like:
It’s not an adorned 10th century hammam spa, but thanks to a Kessa glove, some warmed Moroccan Argan oil, and a cup of mint tea, I can almost get close.
More soon,
Kenza ✨🌱
P.S. Here’s a quick at-home hammam ritual guide:
