Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Stupid Duck Soap!

Several years ago I was sitting in my booth at the farmers market studying the people and the other vendors and their sales techniques. After some experience I realized that if I could start a genuine conversation with a customer I could usually make a sale. I will tell you that there is a fine line between being friendly and being annoying. I knew I needed a hook, something to make a person stop and want to come in and browse a little. I put a lot of thought into how I could get people to stop without tackling them. Tackling is out of the question because people are too busy being angry with you and wiping the dirt off of their clothes to even listen to your sales pitch. I know that all ages and types of people love rubber ducky's, I don't know why, but I know that they are beloved by many. Maybe it is sort of permission or an excuse for grownups to have bathtub toys. I had seen rubber ducks stuck in soap so I decided to try it out and see how they sell. It's been five years now and the sales of rubber ducky soaps are going strong. Making and packaging them, however, is a giant pain in my arse, to put it delicately. Also, it never fails that whoever is stuck next to me all day long ends up pretty much hating them and being really annoyed at me. Why, you may ask? Well let me tell you. About 90% of the people who walk by my booth, stop and exclaim, "Awww, look at the rubber ducky's!" Then we hear stories about their collection, or their friend, relative or neighbors collection. Apparently almost everyone either collects them or knows someone who does. They are quite the hot topic for conversation. Just ask my market buddy, Jim from Chocolate Serenade. He was the first person to actually voice his annoyance out loud because he knows that I don't offend easily. Although he used a less delicate word than "stupid" ducks, his meaning was clear. I must point out that they do their job well and so I pay them tribute by showing you a bit of the process that I go through when making them.
                                                        Roll pictures please.................


The molds stand at the ready on the counter. Behind the scenes the ounces per cup and the proper recipe has been calculated.



    
             The ducks have been chosen, counted and are waiting in a big pile of cuteness.



 The coloring has been mixed, the fragrance weighed and the sodium lactate dissolved and ready.



    These are the oils, which have been carefully weighed and the solid oils have been melted.



  This is the frozen goat milk and the lye which will be stirred until the milk melts and the lye dissolves.


                      This is my oil bowl with the lye mixture and color just dropped in.


Right when I start using my stick blender and the color starts its swirl throughout the oil mixture is sort of my favorite part. I am entertained easily, I know.


This is where my picture taking went south. My fragrance decided to make my soap turn into soap way faster then I wanted it to. This is some of the "pain in the arse" part. My daughter, Grace was already standing at the ready to help because it takes a long time to pour 75 individual soaps. Getting the ducks set into them before it gets too hard by myself is an impossible feat. When the fragrance gives me trouble, like it did today I really need extra hands. I try to use one that I know will behave but sometimes I forget or don't have good notes on a particular scent. Grace was setting ducks while I poured and I was about at the half way point when the soap started to thicken up to a pudding like consistency. I hollered for Grace to help me finish pouring and we got it into the molds and were setting ducks with lightning speed and precision. We worked like a well-oiled machine. Okay, not really, we were spilling and dropping ducks and generally making a big mess but we got the job done.

                      Here they are, all lined up like little customer grabbing soldiers.

If only this were the end but now they have to cure for 4 weeks and then get packaged in special packaging because they don't fit into my regular packaging. (More of the "pain in the arse" part)

      So, here's to you my little yellow friends, you serve your purpose gallantly and for that I am grateful.