Do you remember the kind of joy that didn’t need permission?
Like catching bubbles in the backyard… naming clouds… or holding a soap shaped like a bunny and thinking it was too pretty to use?
I’ve been thinking a lot about that kind of magic lately—the small, sacred things that made childhood feel like a secret world we never wanted to leave. And maybe we don’t have to.
When I started making soaps, I wasn’t trying to start a business. I was trying to hold onto something real—something I could still feel in the quiet of my mother’s room. After she passed, I’d walk in and take in the scent of her lotion, the fabric of her favorite chair, the way her room always smelled warm and familiar. I still remember how she baked—especially her peach cobbler. That smell always meant I was home.
So I started creating. And what came out were these little pieces of memory.
Hand-poured decorative soaps that look like keepsakes, smell like childhood, and feel like a warm hug.
One time, I put together gift bag soaps for a birthday party—lavender-scented rose petals. Later, someone told me one of the guests asked where they came from. She said the smell reminded her of her granny’s house. That made me happy. Because I know what that feels like. And if my soap helped bring that memory back, then it’s doing what it’s meant to do.
Whether they end up at a wedding, in a baby shower gift set, or just sitting quietly as a bathroom accent, I hope these small-batch artisan soaps offer something meaningful. A smile. A memory. A moment.
Because we all deserve little things that make us feel good.
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