Dread Orange Spots, or The Ugly Beauty Bar

The day before yesterday was the winter solstice, which is also our family Yule. The soap for this occasion, scented with a pine needle essential oil blended with sage, eucalyptus and rosemary, was finished a while back, and has mostly been given away.

My husband and I made a list of all the people we come into contact with on a regular basis – his coworkers, the specialists who provided services to our disabled son, teachers and staff at the schools, and of course our friends and family, and we realized that I would be distributing over 100 bars of soap. It was delivered at times with apologies – one batch had lost most of its jasmine, rose and patchouli scent, and another came out smelling slightly odd, in my opinion. Equal portions of cinnamon and pine created confusion rather than harmony. Still, I think they will be appreciated, although I’m sure that many don’t share my deep appreciation for soap in general. It’s just not something they think about much.

I’ve already started to receive some feedback. One of the occupational therapists said her husband LOVES the sandalwood soap. The Egyptian geranium turned out well and has been receiving many compliments. And of course, the anise soap made for my husband is a huge hit with the few folks we've shared it with, despite the fact that it also contains activated charcoal. It gives the soap a lovely dark licorice-like hue, but can discolor washcloths and linens.

The last batch I made was for Imbolg, also known as Candlemas, which occurs around the second day of February and is situated between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. I decided to combine the previously mentioned Imbolg soap and Valentine's Day soaps into one project. It’s a hot-process vegetarian soap made with a one percent superfat and four percent cocoa butter added toward the end. After saponification and while still hot, the soap was poured into a large mixing bowl. Milk, honey, and the lover's blend blend of essential oils was vigorously stirred in right before pressing it into the mold. It smells heavenly.

A few years ago, I made a sacred anointing oil from an EO blend, and for the lover's blend I used a few leftover oils from that project. They were in glass bottles in a dark cool place, and seemed fine. I hoped that since most of the essential oil in the lover's blend was new, and the honey might act as a preservative, it would turn out okay. Unfortunately the soap is now developing Dreaded Orange Spots. (That’s DOS in “soapers lingo”.) The spots are caused by oxidation, and it probably occurred because some of the essential oils used were old, although they smelled wonderful. It’s not so bad because the honey and milk turned the soap a dark color. There is less contrast, so the spots are not as pronounced. I realized it was risky to use old essential oil in soap, and it’s not likely I’ll make this mistake again. I make my own personal fragrance blends, and can continue to use the oils this way, as long as the fragrance is pleasing. I don’t like to waste things that are still useful. Essential oils are expensive, and it can take time to build up a good variety for making blends.

The new batch of soap is lying on a rack on the kitchen table. Each day I turn the bars. There are fifteen of them, generously sized and silky to the touch. There is also a huge ball of it, scraped from the sides of the mixing bowl with a rubber spatula and hand shaped. My soap dishes are piled with these test samples. I press my husband to try them and to comment on the fragrance and lather.

The DOS is barely noticeable now, but it will grow more pronounced, like a frightening pox. Real soapers do not sell or give away soap with DOS because it is unprofessional and bad for the reputation. It really doesn’t harm the soap, or harm the person who uses the soap. It doesn’t affect the lather or the cleaning power of the soap. It’s just ugly. Hopefully, I will find sympathetic homes for these poor spotted soaps, perhaps with understanding friends who realize that I am learning from my mistakes and that perfection isn’t always a requirement. Even now I can smell the soap, wafting in from the kitchen table.

Already, future batches are in the planning stages. My youngest son is expecting a batch of chocolate soap that actually smells like chocolate, and for the spring equinox perhaps a huge batch of lavender soap is in order. For Beltane, the soap will probably be infused with sweet woodruff and scented with ylang ylang, rose and jasmine.