In Short
A longer ingredient list doesn't automatically make a better bar of soap. We've found that the best formulas often come from knowing what to leave out just as much as knowing what to include.
When people first discover handmade skincare, there's a tendency to turn the ingredient list into a scorecard. The longer it is, the more impressive it seems. If a label is filled with exotic oils, botanical extracts, flowers gathered from somewhere you've never heard of, and ingredients that sound rare or expensive, it can feel like you're getting something extraordinary. We understand the appeal because we felt it ourselves when Janae first began learning to make soap. Every new ingredient seemed full of possibility, and every article online suggested there was another miracle oil waiting to be discovered.
The more batches Janae made, however, the more something unexpected happened. Instead of adding more ingredients, she started asking whether each one truly belonged there. Sometimes the answer was yes. Other times, an ingredient sounded wonderful on paper but didn't meaningfully improve the finished bar. Those moments taught us that a recipe doesn't become better simply because it becomes longer. In fact, one of the hardest parts of formulation is resisting the temptation to keep adding.
That realization quietly shaped Curtis & Kin. We stopped thinking about ingredient lists as something to impress people with and started thinking about them as a reflection of intention. Every oil, butter, clay, or botanical should have a reason for being there. If we couldn't explain why an ingredient belonged in the recipe, we began wondering whether it belonged there at all.
More isn't always better
We've noticed that modern skincare often encourages us to believe the opposite. Every few months a new ingredient becomes the center of attention. One promises brighter skin. Another promises smoother skin. Before long it's easy to believe the answer is collecting as many of them as possible into a single product.
We've never found that approach particularly convincing. Good formulation feels more like cooking than collecting. A great loaf of bread doesn't become better because you keep adding ingredients to the dough. At some point, more simply becomes more. The same is often true in soapmaking. Balance matters. Purpose matters. Knowing when to stop matters just as much as knowing where to begin.
That's one reason our recipes usually become simpler as they evolve instead of more complicated. Every new version is an opportunity to ask whether the bar has become more thoughtful or simply more crowded.
Every ingredient should earn its place
One question we ask ourselves often is surprisingly simple.
"If we removed this ingredient, would we miss it?"
Sometimes the answer is immediate. Other times it takes another round of testing before we're confident. Either way, the question keeps us honest. It reminds us that ingredients aren't decorations. They're part of a recipe, and recipes work best when every part contributes to the finished product.
We think that's one of the advantages of making soap in small batches. Janae can continue refining a recipe instead of locking it in forever. She can pay attention to the little details that most people will never notice but somehow still experience every time they use the bar. Those quiet improvements rarely make headlines, yet they're often the reason a product becomes someone's favorite.
Thoughtful simplicity
The older we've become, the more we've appreciated simplicity—not because it's fashionable, but because it creates room for what matters. The same has proven true in our home. A few dependable kitchen tools are used more often than a drawer full of gadgets. A handful of trusted recipes become family traditions. A well-made bar of soap quietly earns its place beside the sink without needing to announce itself every morning.
That's the philosophy we've tried to build into Curtis & Kin from the beginning. We don't create products by asking how many ingredients we can fit onto a label. We begin by asking what kind of product we'd be proud to use ourselves, and then we keep refining until every ingredient has a clear purpose.
We've learned that simplicity isn't the absence of care.
More often than not, it's the result of it.
When a recipe has been thoughtfully refined, very little is left that doesn't belong. We think that's true of good soap, and perhaps it's true of many of the best things we invite into our homes. They don't become valuable because they ask for our attention. They become valuable because, over time, they quietly prove they deserve a place there.