“Leaves of three, let it be” is a common saying in Arkansas this time of the year, but when that warning comes too late, there is Poison Ivy Soap, manufactured by Poison Ivy Soap Co. in Marshall and distributed at locally owned retailers across the country.
“We’ve had people use it for seed ticks and skunk spray and all sorts of problems. Poison Ivy Soap is great for that,” said Ann Brown, owner. “My dad used to say, ‘If you say it’s good for eight things, people won’t think it’s good for one thing,’ so he tried to stick to just the one thing, but it is really good for multiple things.”
Poison Ivy Soap Co. began in the mid-1990s, when Brown’s father, Charles Baker, moved to the country and needed something to stop the skin irritation caused by poison ivy he encountered while working on his land. He found a soap recipe in a Farmer’s Almanac, and his wife, Wilma, an herbalist, created the soap using jewelweed, which soothes the skin.
Charles, who also worked as a traveling appliance salesman, began selling the soap to his clients. He later switched to selling mattresses and furniture, and after Hurricane Katrina upended the furniture market in 2005, he decided to focus on the soap company full time, hiring sales reps to help peddle the product. The business still has sales reps from California to Connecticut today.
Charles and Wilma Baker
Brown was involved in the business from the beginning, starting with the name of the product, which Charles initially called “Ozark Lye Soap” then “Jewelweed Soap.”
“I’m like, ‘Dad, nobody knows what that is,’” she said. “‘You have to explain what that is. You want to talk about it being used for poison ivy.’”
She also encouraged him to get a website when e-commerce became popular, managing the site herself. In 2003, Charles incorporated the business.
“He calls me up, and I’ve been trying to teach him how to use this website because I’ve got my own life and my own stuff I’m doing, and he’s like, ‘Well, the website is yours forever. We’re incorporated. I’m president. You’re vice president. Your mom’s treasurer. Congratulations,’” she said. “I’m like, ‘Thanks. Do I get a raise?’ Yes, I did. My salary doubled from zero to zero zero.”
Ann Brown
Brown never planned to move back to Arkansas. A single mother with three small children, she lived out of state and worked various jobs while pursuing her undergraduate degrees and, later, a law degree. However, when Wilma, Brown’s stepmother, was diagnosed with breast cancer, the same disease that killed Brown’s biological mother, Brown knew she had to move home to support her father.
She purchased the company from her father as he was nearing the end of his life. One of Charles’ key hires was Debbie Harmon, the first employee he kept on through the winter at the summer-based business. Brown said she knew right away she was going to keep Harmon, who handles administrative duties at the business.
Much has changed since the company began. When the business started, Charles mixed up the soap in a big, cast-iron cauldron outside on his property. Then, he and Wilma poured the mixture onto baking sheets and cut the bars by hand, wrapping them in butcher paper stamped with their address.
Every Labor Day weekend, Charles hired locals to harvest jewelweed from his property and hang it to dry, a community event that was always followed by a picnic or barbecue.
Now the operation is indoors, and the company buys jewelweed from farmers who have the plant growing wild on their properties, but the company remains focused on its people. In Marshall, Brown said, most everyone is kin to everyone, but for those transplants who come from other areas, there is Poison Ivy Soap Co., particularly due to the Independent Order of Odd Fellows.
“You’ve got a lot of people in Marshall that are related to each other, and then you’ve got the lodge,” Brown said. “They know, well, if you come in and you do a good, hard day’s work, you get paid pretty well, and you can go ahead and make your rent money or, you know, whatever the situation is.”
Charles served as the state’s grand master for the Odd Fellows for two consecutive terms, and he founded the Marshall No. 1 lodge, where Harmon is noble grand today. In addition to helping connect people to employment at the company, Poison Ivy Soap Co. makes donations to the lodge whenever there is a neighbor in need.
“I enjoy being able to carry that on as part of my dad’s legacy, to be able to help the community, even if the community might not be aware of where it came from,” Brown said.
That supportive mindset extends to the sales reps across the country, she said, adding that she made an effort to invest in the sales reps when she first took on a managerial role. Sales tripled within a year.
Poison Ivy Soap remains the company’s main product, although Brown said her father had always dreamed of adding a product that could bring in money during the winter. A while back, she invented the Blue Beauty Bar, a charcoal-based soap, but the product did not take off at the hardware, garden and plumbing stores, where Poison Ivy Soap is typically sold.
“These are not the type of stores that you’re going to say, ‘While you’re at the store getting screws and bolts and a new drill, can you pick up a Blue Beauty Bar?’” she said. “That’s absurd, so we don’t really carry that as a regular product anymore.”
However, Harmon and another employee recently created Jewelwitch, a spray that incorporates jewelweed and witch hazel. Jewelwitch is not a Poison Ivy Soap Co. product, Brown said, adding that the company partners with the two employees for the item.
“That’s really their baby,” Brown said. “I had people, early on, when we talked about rolling this out, ask me why I did it that way and why it wasn’t going to be considered a Poison Ivy Soap product, and I was like, ‘because I don’t feel like that’s in the spirit of entrepreneurialism.’ They created this.”
Everything at the business, except for the plastic wrap and Jewelwitch bottles, is manufactured in the United States, she added, and most is sourced in Arkansas, she added. The company uses Armor lard to make the soap. The molds come from a manufacturer in Fort Smith, the boxes are made by SMC Conway, formerly Wonder State Box, and the brochures are printed at Sozo Graphics in Marshall.
Although Brown has considered launching a social media campaign for the company, Poison Ivy Soap Co. has never undertaken any mass marketing, which Brown said is a testament to the quality of the product. She has also considered changing the business model to sell directly to consumers, as well as retailers. The company has been intentional about selling only to other small businesses, thus far.
“If we have a good product, and we are selling it at every Walgreens and CVS and Target and everything else, why would people go to Bob’s Hardware and Jim’s Plumbing Supplies and, you know, KBY Garden Shop?” Brown said. “They wouldn’t, but those small mom and pops are the backbone of our country, and that was always my dad’s mission was to try to continue supporting people like that, so it’s something we do.”
Brown maintains a law practice and has a small hobby farm in Faulkner County, Golden Gander Farm, where she raises Sebastopol geese. She said she expects her oldest daughter, Anastasia Brown Willman, to eventually become the third-generation owner of the company, but at Poison Ivy Soap Co., everyone is family.
“Poison Ivy Soap is not just a soap — it’s a family,” she said. “It’s family that makes it. It’s family that sells it and distributes it. It’s all about family, and I think a lot of companies would benefit better if they kept that attitude and that mindset. Family doesn’t mean you’re blood related. Family is who you care about and who’s got your back, and that’s who we are.”
