Soapmaking has intrigued me since I was a child, when I saw photographs of my grandmother making soap on her African farm (see below).

When my daughter was born I used regular supermarket soap on her skin. Unfortunately, it basically took her skin off. (For those of you who have never experienced this, it is when the dermis comes off in one piece. She did not look exactly like a skinned chicken, but her skin was very sensitive and raw afterwards. I am currently researching the cause of this, so bear with me.) I felt awful, and tried an all-natural soap from the health-food store, but it wasn't much better.

Then I remembered the photos of my grandmother. In an act of love only a sleep-deprived, breast-feeding mother could pull off, I started researching soap. I learned all I could about different methods, recipes and ingredients. Then I started making soap myself.

My daughter’s skin immediately improved, and what was I going to do with the extra 30 bars sitting around the house in piles? I shared them with friends and family. To my surprise, they raved and wanted more. Like my daughter, they couldn’t go back to their old soaps either. And luckily for them, I had become addicted to making soap. We were all hooked together.

As my skill grew, I tried different recipes, invented my own, and developed my craft to meet the challenges of my friends: the gardener who wanted a bar strong enough to remove slug slime without removing skin; the auto mechanic who hadn’t seen clean hands since his last vacation; the working mother who wanted to clean her face without irritating her sensitive skin.
The more I made, the more people wanted. They started bugging me for four, five bars for gifts. They insisted upon paying me (and that felt weird at first). And I loved making soap so much, I was delighted to oblige.

 So a business was born.

My grandmother and a gemsbok...     

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