This brought to mind a sucessful valentine’s day present I got for someone…
On eZiba, they have “Gemstone Soaps”, which is Glycerin soaps made to resemble rocks, they have Amethyst, Lapis Lazuli, Malachite, Rose Quartz, Turquoise and White Opal.
Totally cool looking soap.
Smells good too.
Now if I could learn to make that it would definitely be a fun hobby to try.
-Doug
I make my own mead, wine, and honey-butter. I’ve also been known to make soap, perfume (I distilled the oils from flower petals myself, just because I could), and chain mail armor, among other things. I enjoy all of these little projects–there’s something very satisfying about making stuff yourself.
The usual reaction I get is impressed amazement (quickly followed by drunken merriness in the case of the mead). I’ve never (to my knowledge) been judged a dork for any of it. Neither are you, MsWhatsit.
Balance: You’ve made chain mail armor? Whoa. Now that is a Manly Man craft! Got any pictures?
Of course you’re a dork. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We dorks happen to rule the world (don’t let the suave and debonair in on our secret.)
Dorky confession: I enjoy and collect antique calculating instruments. I asked Mrs. CG to buy me an HP-97 desktop calculator, circa 1978 model, for my birthday.
My hobby is kind of like making soap, except that I behead puppies and don’t make any soap.
To follow up on Turbo Dog’s comment, which seems to have sort of Whooshed, soap making was a significant part of the recent movie Fight Club in which a main character stole human fat removed at a liposuction clinic, made it into soap, then sold it back to the ladies (or so he theorized) it had been removed from.
While I don’t think that soap making = dorkiness, who the hell cares if it is dorky? So long as you aren’t hurting anyone, who’s to say what “dorky” is. Just be your own soapmaking self, I say.
Sorry, don’t have a complete hauberk yet; I’m getting there, though–it’s going to take quite a bit to shield my frame from those walk-by swordings in the engineering offices…
I think of it as crocheting with steel. Is that manly? 
Oh indeed! So overwhelmingly manly, in fact, that it made me forget who I am and try to pee standing up.