I like cake. There isn't a more sophisticated explanation - "liking cake" really was the reason I entered Amy Warden's April Soap Challenge: Mirror Glaze Technique. Most artisan soap designers have been told, "OMG - that looks good enough to eat!" when customers view especially ornately designed products. This isn't surprising - many soaping techniques have baking origins. Here's the basic process for this one (feel free to try this with edible ingredients and lmk how it goes ;) ): This technique starts with a base "cake" of soap. I tried a few different shapes - was especially drawn to the flower-shaped molds because the look of glaze can be psychedelic-y anyway. I also used straightforward, round molds as I wasn't sure how easy it would be to work with the flower's multiple side-surfaces...
The February Soap Challenge Club featured "glycerin rivers", an odd, visual texture result reminiscent of the crackled appearance of an aged oil painting. Most soap makers' first encounter with glycerin rivers is usually alarming - wondering if something has gone terribly wrong in the formulation of their soap (yes - this was me). But aside from the unexpected look, there's nothing wrong with a soap containing glycerin rivers. I wasn't planning to sign-up, but organizer Amy Warden enlisted the expertise of one of my soap SHEroes, South African soap maker/chemistry geek, Clara Lindberg of Auntie Clara's Handcrafted Cosmetics. (Dammit, Amy!)
This soap needs a real name and you probably need a bar of luxurious, moisturizing soap. Want to win one? Here's the scoop:Post your suggestion(s) in the comments either in this post, on the Courageous Soap FaceBook page or on Instagram@courageous_soap (you can see some videos of "the making of" on there as well). No limit on entries, but make them separate comments, please, to help my page's reach. Contest ends 2/28/19 @11:59 PM MST.
Between my #useitchallenge + general Konmari-ing of life, I've been attempting to get a handle on my soaping supplies. Time to wrangle the bursting drawers and overflowing boxes. For the record, we creatives love an orgasmic mix of plenty. And maybe there's a a touch of FOMO - just...maybe. But once my mind feels as cluttered as my supply drawers, overwhelm replaces excitement. I'm no longer using my materials, just storing them.