Not-so-brief introduction: My name is Jenny and I have been a soap enthusiast for about three years now. I started making melt-and-pour soaps in January 2009 after a friend of mine reminded me of a bar of glycerin soap he had bought me for Christmas years earlier. We got to talking about it, and he told me that it was possible to make soap like that at home. I was intrigued and went to the bookstore a few days later to see what they had on the topic. I was lucky enough to find Marie Browning's "300 Handcrafted Soaps: Great Melt and Pour Projects" on the shelf. The book was so inspiring and the soaps so beautiful that I was immediately hooked.
Once I started soaping, I was quickly addicted. Anyone who loves to make soap knows what I mean. I read every book, website, and blog about melt-and-pour soaping that I could find, and watched every online video that was out there. I would see an interesting color pattern and wonder if I could make a soap that looked like it. Everything began to look like a potential mold - most people see silicone baking pans as something to, you know, bake with, but I saw them as soaping molds. I'd sniff candles at the mall until I felt self-conscious, making mental notes about what scents I liked so I could find a similar soap fragrance. I even began dreaming about soap.
|Here are a few of my melt-and-pour soaps ...|
At about the time I closed shop, I was officially bitten by the cold-process-soaping bug. I had read about cold process soapmaking during my melt-and-pour days, and wanted to try it but was afraid of the lye monster. But since I was no longer selling my soaps and running a business, I suddenly had more time to create and explore. So I decided to dedicate myself to learning the cold process method and to take the plunge and try it already. On a day in early 2011, I stood in my kitchen wearing my makeshift hazmat suit (goggles, plastic gloves, apron, long sleeves, long pants, closed-toed shoes) and warily eyed my container of sodium hydroxide (lye). I was pleasantly surprised that the house didn't explode when I added the lye to my distilled water. I added my lye solution to my melted oils, stick blended it to trace and then poured it into my mold. Afterward, as I was giving myself and the kitchen the Silkwood scrub down, I thought, "That was what I was so afraid of?" Don't get me wrong ... lye demands respect and you must be careful with it, but it's nothing to fear.
Twenty-four hours later, I'll be darned if I didn't have a block of soap in my mold. With my confidence buoyed, I began plotting the next batch. And then the next batch. And then the next ...
|... And a few of my cold-process soaps.|
I hope this will be a fun way to connect with other soap enthusiasts like myself and to share knowledge and stories with each other. Thanks so much for reading!