It started on Christmas in 2020. My older brother gifted me a bar of natural soap. Using it was a revelation. My skin felt hydrated and truly clean, free from the harsh chemicals of standard body washes. I loved the clean ingredients and the low environmental impact, until I saw the price tag: $10 a bar!?

I remember thinking that was outrageous. Something as simple and essential as a bar of soap shouldn't be a luxury item. I’ve always been a hands-on guy, the type to spend my weekends building things in the garage. I figured soap should be no different. If the "premium" brands were going to overcharge, I’d just make a better version myself.

Apprenticeship in the History Wing

I heard about a history teacher at my high school, Mr. D, who was a master of cold-process soap making. Even though I wasn't in his class, I went to him to learn. I spent every afternoon for weeks in his room. We talked about the rudimentary chemistry of saponification, the history of the craft, and the safety of handling raw materials.

Equipped with Mr. D’s base formula and a few simple ingredients, I headed to my kitchen. My first batch was a eucalyptus and oat exfoliant bar. I let it set in the fridge, unmolded it, and cut the bars by hand. When I finally tested it, the foam was great. It didn't just work, it was objectively better than the $10 gift bar. However, there were still fixes that I would have made to enhance it.

The Obsession: Solving the Fatty Acid Equation

I became obsessed with engineering the best bar of soap possible. I didn't want a "great" hobby soap; I wanted a masterpiece. While other students were taking notes in class, I was filling my notebooks with math equations to calculate fatty acid profiles. I wanted to find the exact balance of oils to create a bar that glided over the skin, provided a rich lather, and lasted longer than the competition.

It took two years, thousands of experimental batches, and endless tweaking. But eventually, I landed on the perfect formula. A bar that cleanses without drying. A bar I was actually excited to use every single morning.

The School Hallway Hustle

Word traveled fast. Along the way, I started carrying a bag of 20 bars into school every day and walking out with a pocket full of cash. I sold to my classmates, my teachers, and eventually, local farmers' markets. I saw firsthand that there was a massive market for high-quality, handmade soap; people just needed it to be accessible.

The Branding Trap

Everything changed when I got to business school. I was surrounded by talk of "brand positioning," "shareholder value," and "perceived value." The experts told me to find a niche and charge a premium. So, I listened. I built a brand identity around "active lifestyles" and raised my prices.

On paper, I was doing everything "right." But inside, I felt a disconnect. I wasn't solving a problem anymore; I was becoming part of the one I hated. I was packaging orders and realizing I didn't believe in the brand I had built. I had traded my values for a marketing strategy.

The Breaking Point at UMass

The wake-up call came from my mentor, a marketing professor at UMass. He’s a huge fan of the soap. He even holds up my bars in front of his 450-student lectures as an example of a perfect product.

But one day, I realized he hadn't bought a second bar. When I asked him why, he was honest: "It’s hard to access, Nate. And honestly, it’s a little expensive."

It hit me like a truck. I had spent years trying to spin soap into something fancy instead of just making it valuable. I had become the $10 bar of soap. I felt like an idiot, but for the first time in years, I saw the path forward clearly.

Returning to Our Roots

I’m burning down the version of Nate’s Natty that was built on buzzwords and "perceived value." I’m rebuilding this company around one simple truth: Good soap shouldn’t be expensive. I’m returning to the garage-born obsession that started it all. We aren't here to chase a niche subculture or use superficial marketing to justify a high price tag. We are here for the people who want natural, healthy, sustainable skincare that actually works, without having to budget for it.

Sometimes you have to build the wrong version of your dream to understand what the right one looks like. For Nate’s Natty, the right version is simple. It’s honest. It’s value.