Skip to main content

How do you really know?

For all you soapmakers, how do you know that people like your soaps?  I mean, they may be in awe of your soapmaking abilities and gush over your endless creativity.  They may buy soaps from you in such quantities that you wonder if they experience most of life from within the confines of a bathtub.

But don't you sometimes still have lingering doubts?  Do your customers just sense your desperate need for positive reinforcement?  Do they hope that their financial support will enable you to take a vacation and get away from the lye fumes that have obviously affected you?  Or do they simply feel pity for their friend who whiles away the time combining quantities of oils and liquids with stuff that cleans out drains and thinks it's the funnest thing ever?

I thought I'd offer two foolproof indicators that your customers really, truly love your soaps.

1. They use it up.  Literally. One of my regular customers said that she needed soap because she was down to a sliver of her last bar.  To demonstrate her desperation, she presented me with the sliver, a generous term. To keep it from sliding down the drain, she'd placed it in one palm and rubbed it with the finger of her other hand.  (We can safely assume that a friend held up a magnifying glass to enable her to complete this operation.)  I sent her on her way with not only several bars, but also a stack of scrap chunks and ends to ward off another soap crisis.


2. A picture will suffice here....


Is this evidence of an irresistable bar of soap, or what?  I didn't discover it until I was setting up for an indoor farmer's market and must have happened the previous week at a craft show.  After examination and consultation with the other vendors, we determined it must have been done by a child.  I think it should be noted that my friend's honey products on the neighboring table remained unscathed, so I feel even more honored.  The typical polite comment of a browser at a craft show is "Oh, your soaps look good enough to eat."  And to some, apparently, it is.



A sidenote: Recently a woman remarked that my soaps looked too good to eat.  It makes you shudder to think of what she does with homely soaps, doesn't it?

Comments

  1. My soap dish is getting close to looking like that! Luckily I still have 2 bars in reserve. I hate to run out!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hee hee! I bet you can go through soap quickly with all those little hands using it! :)

      Delete
  2. Do you need the better approval and nicer commliment than your No.1 indicator for moving you on? I think you're getting enough signals form outhere: just keep working!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Diva! :) I love making soap and it's even nicer when someone likes to use my soap. Both of these incidents happened in the past week and they made me laugh, so I had some fun writing a silly kind of post.

      Delete
  3. That's too funny about the lady who thought your soaps were too good to eat. You often wonder what is going through their mind. I remember when I first started soaping and I had made a cupcake soap and before I could stop them, someone came up and took a huge bite! They knew from that first bite that it wasn't as sweet as it looked.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Getting a mouthful of soap has to be a huge let-down, doesn't it? I teased a young boy and asked him if he wanted one of the gingersnap cookie soaps I made for BB's Givember. He eyed the plate, carefully touched one, then looked at me and said, "I don't know!" (He's a smart one!)

      Delete
  4. Always a pleasure to find teeth marks in your soap! LOL!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's a compliment of the highest kind, isn't it? :)

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Soaping with Madder

I know that any color added to soap can morph into a surprise, but there is an added element of unknown when using botanicals to color my soap.  Some people jump out of planes or ski off mountains, but this is how I live on the edge these days.  Hmm.  If I weren't having so much fun, I'd be embarrassed. I recently had my first go with madder.  So....whatsa madder?  It's a root--the root of the madder. Ahem. (I love puns...) I infused 8 oz. of olive oil with 2 t. madder root powder for almost a week.  This amount worked out to be 20% of the oils in my batch. I wanted something in the way of embeds to add visual interest.   I dearly love my soap balls but I don't want to over do a good thing.  I've recently done square-shaped embeds, so this time I cut a bar of white soap into slices. I panicked a little that it wouldn't get dark enough--it was kind of a dusty peach--so I added 1/4 t. dried powder right before pouring. Madder powder can get a little

Soap Challenge--Piping

I'm jumping into Amy W's soap challenge here in week 3--piping soap.  I chose to make a version of a batch I made last year--my Sweet Pea scented soap.  It was really popular for me last summer so why mess with a success? Some soapers assume that piping soap means that it must be whipped, but it's not necessary to whip it first.  When I don't want the whipped look (or more frequently, don't want to clean beaters) I just let it sit until it thickens up on its own.  (By the way, don't you adore these itty-bitty dishes?  I just bought them a few weeks ago. A set of four cost $1 at the Dollar Tree!) I used a Wilton tip #3 to make the little squiggles. I added tip #103 sweet peas and made leaves with a # 352 tip. One thing I love about piping soap....it never leaves even a trace of ash to spoil the design.   And then I took lots of pictures (it was a rather photogenic batch).  Here are a few-- These will be cured enough to have them at t

Loofah--from vine to soap

If you've followed my blog for a long time, you've already seen a post on one of my favorite things to grow--loofah, but I think it's time for another one.  People are often surprised when they learn that loofahs are grown.  No, a loofah isn't a sea sponge, but the mature "skeleton" of a zucchini-like plant.  Everyone knows they are good for the bath but they also make great natural pan scrubbers in the kitchen.  They are so popular that I have to remember to tuck away any that I want to keep myself. I raise three or four plants every year.  Like a zucchini or a cucumber, it likes to spread out with little regard to another plant's personal space.  Here is last year's crop. Early in the summer, the loofahs remained neatly on the trellis: But then they wandered over to the basil: Cozied among the tomatillos: And hung out with the butternut squash: Harvest time was a regular treasure hunt.  But I ended up with about 20 loofahs fr