I initially thought that people chose soap the same way you’d choose a scented candle or bath salts. You’d stroll down the aisle, or look at your options spread before you on a farmer’s market table, and let your senses lead the way.  Long before I made any of my own, handmade soaps were a ‘self-care’ purchase for me. These soap bars were made with beautiful color swirls, curated scent combos, and made me feel conscious and sustainable for picking handmade from another human rather than some mystery goop that came in plastic bottles. 

I’ll admit, my first few batches were sparkled with glitter and topped with random flowers I found on Amazon. Not because that’s what worked the best but because it was pretty, and would look good on the shelf. To my surprise, during my first few markets, the bars that consistently sold, and became favorites, were NOT the ones that were overly aesthetic, but the bars with familiar ingredients that worked well.

Fancy toppers and dramatic swirls don’t matter in the shower. More than a few times, I’d pick a soap bar from Etsy because it was cute or had intricate designs, but as soon as I added water, there was very little lather, the glitter and mica powders would smear (and at times stain…), or it would leave some weird residue on my skin that bothered me to no end. Not only did this frustrate me because it didn’t work the way I wanted, but it also left me feeling like I wasted money. 

Coming from rural Alaska, I am used to running a strict budget and buying in bulk to save money everywhere I can. I also am guilty of all-or-nothing thinking. So, if I spent money on  bars that left me with purchase regret more than once, why would I keep trying? That’s when I decided rather than pick a bulk option that didn’t check all my boxes, I’d lean into my research-loving brain and teach myself to make some that would. They would need to have a creamy but simple recipe, no glitter or shiny/gritty colors, and the only mix-ins would actually provide exfoliation without scratching or being microplastics.

One of these ‘boxes’ that need checked is the scent. I’ve never been interested in perfumes, strong fragrances, or any scents that smelled particularly manufactured. I like scents the way they present in nature, gentle not intoxicating. I am very intentional in my own soap making because I want the scent to be tied to a memory, to a feeling. 

My husband and I lived in the southeastern Alaskan town I was raised in for a small moment, and walking through the woods in early spring smelling the cottonwood was so comforting. One evening, while the shepherds chewed on alders and chased each other through the powdery snow, I collected a bunch of these sticky buds in a jar and took them home with me. I left them in a jar with comfrey leaf and olive oil for two weeks: oil that I would later use to make Cottonwood & Comfrey soaps. These bars turned into orange, solid bars that root me in nostalgia whenever I sniff them. I want my bars to invoke a memory or pair with a cycle of life. 

Another box is durability. I’ve always been hard on my stuff: shoes, pants, trucks, and my bathroom kit is no different. I have sensitive and dry skin to begin with, but to make matters worse, I’m an adventurer. I spend weeks on the trail hiking, camping, dog mushing, and always sweating under various layers. This also means that my soaps are getting smashed into dry bags or sled pouches, sometimes still wet, and anyone who has used bar soap knows that sometimes if they get left in the shower, they turn into a pile of mush. 

My formula used for the base of all of my soaps contains 3 things: olive oil (for a nice hard bar), coconut oil (for a strong lather), and shea butter (for skin support). Not only do these three play well together while in use, but because of a 4 week cure time, they last weeks (or sometimes more than a month). I’m not worried about how the soap behaves the first day it’s used, I care about how it performs after week 3. 

All that to say, while I have found my formula, and have my favorite natural colorants like rose clay or rhubarb root, I still don’t feel like I’ve figured everything out. I still make batches that I hate and have to be tweaked. I still test new recipes that flop. I also still get surprised at reactions because soap making is where chemistry meets artistry. But I keep trying and keep experimenting because soap is not like candles. Soap is part of your daily routine. Keeping this in mind, I am able to be more practical, more thoughtful, and an all around better maker because real life is the best teacher.