THE SOAP GIRLS: SEX, VEGGIES & PHILANTHROPY

Serving underground glamour with a side of anarchy — The SoapGirls strike a fierce pose in full punk goddess mode, surrounded by spray paint, stares, and attitude. Photo courtesy of The SoapGirls official website.

Embracing a New Perspective

If you're like me, then you're probably aware of how ugly the world can be, especially in it's current state of affairs. Much of modern society rejects integrity, grit, and selflessness in favor of mindless self-indulgence—in constant pursuit of a fanciful easy button that only suits themselves when it's convenient for them to press—and they expect someone else to find it for them. It's not their fault, of course. Everyone is struggling and tired, and unless you have the money to afford the cost of convenience, you're sort of stuck on a hamster wheel in pursuit of happiness. But maybe there's a better way. Where we can all lean on one another, only taking what we need in times of hardship, and giving what we can to those in need in times of abundance. I'm a firm believer that it takes a village to raise a child with integrity and for that child to build the future and shape the society they want to exist in—and their children's future and so on and so forth—passing it on to the next generations in hopes that they don't struggle as the previous ones have. Where many make complaints, few provide solutions. This is innovation in its purest form.

Enter The Soap Girls: Wild at Heart Tour 2025

So there I was. Droppin' a deuce on a lonely Monday night after getting home from making a life long dream come true by paying a visit to the last bastion of freedom and modern day proof of functioning anarchy: Slab City in the Sonoran Desert of Southern California. Clawing at the walls of my humble, utilitarian apartment, looking for some good trouble to get into among the scant selection in the local events section on Facebook. That's when I saw the thumbnail of two gorgeous blue-eyed blonde bombshells wielding electrified axes of allegro. It looked like the average punk rock flier you might've ever seen, but why were these scantily clad vixens performing live on stage in a slum like Knuckleheads Saloon on a Sunday night? I had missed the show by an entire day, but I was intrigued. Surely, this band had to be a joke band because Knuckleheads is a biker bar that hosts open jam sessions on Sundays. So what the actual fuck am I looking at here? What kind of thirst trap of a show are they putting on? Soap Girls? This band name just had to be an ironic jab at cleanliness for appearing so lewd inside a dive bar with a reputation for debauchery... or so I thought.

Glitter, grit, and barely-there outfits — The SoapGirls turned RecordBar into a punk rock circus. Between hair flips, flying kicks, and fierce vocals, Kansas City had no idea what hit it (but loved every second). Photo courtesy of RecordBar.

As it turns out, the name Soap Girls isn't ironic at all! Rather, it's a nod to their previous philanthropic endeavor, as children for children. That's right. These sisters were hustling soap and donating the proceeds to the local NICU. If you didn't know, that's where premature babies or newborns with adverse health conditions go instead of going home with their moms. If that doesn't shake you awake and make you question what selfless good you've contributed to society, I don't know what will. So naturally, I followed them on their Instagram (@the.soapgirls), and was even more impressed, entertained, and swooning with the way they interact with their fans from all over the globe. I'm not even kidding. They speak German, Japanese, and French with stunning fluency. Millie takes the time to respond to just about every comment as Mie (Noemie) stays busy in the background. When she isn't being the hypenmeister or angelic backup vocals between the banter, she's loading, organizing, or cleaning the tour van. But they both know how to entertain and captivate an audience. They seem to have a knack for remembering both new and old fans alike, even by screen names alone. I'm a former social media manager myself and have mad respect for anyone on that grind. They both kill it during their consistent, and often daily, livestreams on Instagram and their YouTube channel (@TheSoapGirlsOfficial), with the occasional ribbing of whoever their drummer is at the time. It's obvious they mean well and are just having fun—which makes the vibe even more genuine—because that's what good friends do.

A raw, cinematic close-up of a hand gripping a bold pink soap bar engraved with 'Soap Girls' — drenched in water, rebellion, and underground attitude. Inspired by cult poster art aesthetics.

The Importance of Connecting with Fans

One of the things that's truly lacking with artists as they become more popular is their genuine connection with their fans as they start to take themselves too seriously. Which, in my opinion, sort of defeats the purpose of the art form itself. I won't name names, but there's one particular artist who I was ecstatic to see come through Kansas City... but didn't get to see them because of the prices of even their most affordable tickets. This young up-and-coming country artist touted their origins from humble upbringings as well. Having gone from riding in boxcars cross-country to winning a couple of Grammys and touring with some of the most popular recording artists in the span of less than ten years. At least they brought their ghostwriter on stage for the acceptance of the awards, I guess. One of the many reasons Garth Brooks is so loved in Kansas City is because of his flat-rate ticket pricing. After he sold out one night here downtown at the Sprint Center, he stayed for another, and then another. He sold out a total of nine nights back-to-back to accomodate all his fans. There are countless stories of how Billy Joel sells out Madison Square Garden, but he still brings people from the back of the arena up to the front row because he has a love for fans that truly appreciate his work.

Always remember the little guy. Always.

When I heard the Soap Girls were actually coming back through Kansas City for a second time, I immediately bought a ticket. I already had an appreciation for their original sounding, sharp-as-a-knife, hard hitting punk rock ethos—and for them as creative, thought-provoking, and genuinely good-souled artists—but I couldn't forgive myself if I missed the opportunity to see them in person. To my surprise, the tickets were well within my budget, and I was beyond stoked. If you pay attention to their livestreams, you'll notice the consistent flow of gifts they receive from fans at every show. It's a lot. These ladies probably have everything three times over by now, but I never saw Alabama or Sam (their mom) get anything. I was determined to change that. So I made sure to get their mum a six-pack of rice pudding—which I kept on ice in my car during the show—because that's her favorite, and she deserves it. Since the girls had everything I couldn't compete with already, I dipped into my now dwindling stash of four-leaf clovers and snagged a couple to give them. I don't give these out to just anybody, and I couldn't think of anyone more deserving than these two to have them. These are special tokens for special people.

The calm before the punk storm — RecordBar in Kansas City, where live music, late-night mischief, and spontaneous dance pits come to life on 1520 Grand Blvd. Photo courtesy of RecordBar.

As I was walking up to The Record Bar, the first person I saw standing outside was Sam. She's a cute li'l thang standing about 5'1" and was a little hard for me to understand at first, but she was quick to compliment my curled handlebar mustache, and I gave her a cup of El Viajero Rice Pudding. She was so nice, and her calm and caring mother-like vibe was intoxicating. I stood outside and chatted with her, expressing my gratitude for them coming back through for a second time in less than a month. She explained how important it was to network and build relationships with the smaller venues along the way—because there are a lot of big businesses that come in and try to destroy them—and they want to support small local venues. I finished my smoke and headed inside to watch another sibling band out of North Carolina, The Maggie Valley Band. They had a much more somber vibe in comparison to the Soap Girls, which might explain why it was only me and the Soap Girls' road dog and personal tattoo artist standing up front and center for them while everybody else sat in the back pre-gaming with various libations.

The Maggie Valley Band lit up the RecordBar stage in Kansas City with gritty Southern charm and indie-folk fire — proving once again that this venue knows how to pick ‘em. Photo courtesy of RecordBar.

The Merch Table Experience

After the Maggie Valley Band opened, I was drawn over to the Soap Girls' merch table like a moth to a flame by their colorful, vibrant, and provacative swag. Bobby, a soft spoken fit guy with an east coast accent was their sales executive on the floor for the evening. He told me this was only one table of the three they usually had because somewhere along the way, the chain of logistics failed and some merch ended up forever lost to the fog of war. Somebody had even stolen an entire box of their CDs, but he assured me they still had plenty to go around for everyone there. As little as it might've been compared to prior shows, I was still overwhelmed because this was some really kickass artwork on some quality, baby-soft material, and I wanted it all. As I was being indecisive, Bobby told me that it was Mamma Sam that designed the artwork. He went on to tell me what a kind and compassionate person she was by explaining that at some point on their tour outside of one of the countless venues, she saw a houseless man outside down on his luck, and how she went above and beyond. Basically, she gave the guy the shirt off her back, and then the venue owner scolded her for it. Unreal. Tack on a nomination for "World’s Best Mom"—and while you're at it, give one to the "World’s Worst Venue," too. He also filled me in on a little Soap Girls history, of which I'm not sure how much was embellished, but it was on brand. He said they were banned in South Africa, having guns pulled on them by the government there. I couldn't find anything about that particular incident online, so who knows, but it's still hot to think about these punk rock barbies taking on the man and not backing down. Another thing he mentioned (that I could only verify through their Wiki page) was how they signed a contract with Universal Records. While they were successful in the sense that they had songs on the radio, were on TV shows and did national tours, they weren't happy because they didn't have creative control. Universal wanted to change their entire image. Bobby said they took the million dollars and sued to terminate the contract. I don't care how embellished or not those stories might be; it only strengthens my perception of The Soap Girls being the epitome and true spirit of rock & roll. As the PA system started screaming from the front of the dimly lit glowing red room, I fist-bumped Bobby and made my way to the stage, front and center.

Finally, it's showtime, and I get to see the Soap Girls Wild at Heart tour live in Kansas City.

As a newer fan, I couldn't tell you the names of the first few songs they opened with, but I could hear what they were saying loud and clear between songs as they got settled in on stage. Music has been a tool as powerful as entire armies since man has been able to tap their feet and clap their hands. Single songs have been known to shake entire empires and fracture the foundations they stand on to keep the people down. They're messages from the soul that provoke thought and people stand at attention in solidarity to make great leaders bend the knee to the people they oppress. The Soap Girls have it all and they're using the stage that's in front of me to shamelessly preach what they practice. In a brief lull between her empowering sentences, Millie quips "some people say we talk too much between songs, and it might be my autism, but fuck them" which leads into my favorite song of theirs, Society's Rejects.

Things got wild and wonderfully weird when The SoapGirls brought their fearless punk chaos to RecordBar in Kansas City — complete with glam, guitars, and one fan getting a literal face full of rebellion.

I mean, sure, there has to be some order for the society we exist in to function sustainably, but what's the point if you never challenge the status quo and spend too much time caring what others think of you? It's pretty simple: live and let live... just don't be a prick. Be kind to one another and always try to be a better neighbor—starting with yourself at home.

Before leading into their song "In my skin", Noemie brings the energy back down to a serious level by bringing up the topic of equality in a very relatable format. That it's 2025 and nipples are still somehow offensive. She points at a sweaty, panting and shirtless Alabama behind the drumset asking "does that offend you?" She continues on saying that she's going to take her top off, and if you're comfortable doing so, you should too.

This is what freedom of expression and the evolution of humanity is all about. Not hiding behind oppressive archaic ideologies that no longer serve us. She lays the ground rules by saying that if you're going to take photos or videos of her nipples and you still have your shirt on, well... basically, fuck around and find out. The crowd will fuck you up for sure, but it's mamma Sam you should really be worried about. She lets her daughters be free and have fun, but don't sexualize them.

There's an obvious and unrivaled aesthetic appeal to be had between a topless Mie bouncing around with a smile and Millie going the extra mile to showcase her yoga prowess and flexibility, throat singing like a demon to boot. If that's all you're here for, you haven't been paying attention, and it will not end well for you. There's been trouble with this at past shows where Sam has successfully intervened, and on a very personal level that would make even the toughest man crumble... which he did. I won't get into details—those aren't my war stories to tell—but, I heard the French Foreign Legion along with the seven nation army couldn't hold her back... So now you know, and you should know better anyway. You've been warned.

Under a crimson glow and a sea of raised fists, The SoapGirls tore into their set at RecordBar in Kansas City — part punk sermon, part glam-rock riot, all absolute mayhem.

Throughout their set, people kept coming up on stage either on their own or through an invite from the girls. There was a timid kid who slowly meandered his way up there. You could tell he wasn't even 15 years old with his mom being in the audience. Mie announced that they'd met two years prior, and the entire crowd cheered with encouragment to really make him feel as cool as he looked in that moment. Another fan named Josh who they'd met a few years prior was celebrating his 23rd birthday and hopped on stage as well.

Millie proceeded to pass a fifth of Jack Daniels around to the other dudes who were on stage with them and lead the crowd in singing happy birthday. He was almost immediately blacked out, so I gave him two cups of water before he disappeared completely—I hope you made it home safe, Josh!

After that, Mie demanded more feminine energy on stage, which lead to four or five girls from the crowd hopping up there for a song or two. One of them fearlessly performed a surprise nipple liberation for the entire venue without shame.

Chaos, charisma, and crowd control? Millie ditched the stage for the pit at RecordBar — proving that when punk gets personal, anything (and everything) can happen.

Welcome Home To Punk Rock

These were my people. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was home and this is where I belonged. It felt like a big happy family and this was my pack, my herd. This is exactly where I needed to be and who I needed to be surrounded by at the right time. I finally found the freedom I'd been yearning for amidst a society wrought by illogical immorality, blinding hatred, and selfishness. The reign of fear, ignorance and self-isolation seemed to be coming to an end and the veil was lifting again at last. That's what I miss most about the early 2000's punk rock music scene in Kansas City. We had solidarity without a care in the world during a Sunday matinee at The Anchor in the West Bottoms before a gang of egotistical, holier-than-thou judgmental straight edgers came in and tore down what took years to build up. That's what we were trying to escape from by doing our own thing on the weekend in a place the rest of the city overlooked.

That was home for the dirty poor kids from broken homes that society had forgotten after a long week of being ridiculed for going against the grain. When we celebrated growing cultural diversity in our communities and political differences weren't a death sentence. This is the world I want to live in and these are the people I want to surround myself with.

Perhaps the music scene is in Kansas City is healing and empty lives are filled again. This why we must persevere and always fight the good fight by lifting up those who cannot. To protect the vulnerable and keep the bullies from scaring off the good hearted people who add valuable contributions to our culture and our communities at large.

Blue lights, bare drums, and one flying shirt — The SoapGirls brought raw punk spectacle and fearless energy to RecordBar, leaving the crowd hyped, half-dressed, and totally hooked.

A Movement of Hope

This band puts their heart and soul into their performances on a nightly basis. This is blood sweat and tears rock and roll in it's most genuine purest form. They're not focused on the money. They're passionate about empowerment, equality, and lifting others up—and it shows. While Sam, Alabama, and their tattoo artist are breaking down and packing up the equipment after the show, you'll find Millie and Mie chatting it up with the fans. They're having a genuine conversation to get to know every single one of the people that wants to stick around and meet them. No, really. Every single one.

I was maybe the second or third from the last person in that line, but I remembered hearing Millie say in a livestream once how it makes them sad that some people get upset because they take so much time connecting with each individual on a personal level. It's extremely important to them that they build these kind of genuine human connections, so please be considerate of others and remember to be patient. Because when it's your turn, it will be well worth the wait.

Who needs shoes when you’ve got a Sharpie and punk-rock DNA? Sam — the iconic mother of The SoapGirls — casually whips up a pair of DIY ‘sandals’ with nothing but ink and attitude. Tour hack level: legendary.

When it was my turn to meet them, I was beyond flustered, but that sort of thing happens if any woman pays attention to me. Millie greeted me with a big hug as if we'd met before. We all laughed and joked about the oversized cheetah print granny panties I presented to them as a gift, and they BOTH got into them at the same time and brought me in for a picture. As I gave them both the four leaf clovers, I wanted to tell them exactly how inspired I was by them and what their message meant to me, but I fumbled my words.

I couldn't get out what I wanted to and it didn't matter because there was too much fun going on. I felt seen—and that was more than enough—but Millie went above and beyond to make me feel special by saying I was a good soul and hugged me again. Both sisters have an amazing sense of humor, and so I wasn't too afraid to ask them to sign my butt for my old bandmate Mike from our joke band Ass Kraken.

Looking back, those were happier times in some sense. I reminisce every time I look at my own butt because there's a tattoo to commemorate every inside joke and all the pain and pleasure along the way. In two of its tentacles it clutches a banjo. It's a nod to the time our vocalist Owikawa saved a baby from a knife and frying pan weilding derranged lunatic over the head with one—ending up in the news as a hero. 

An Ass Kraken... on my ass. And now I'm having the multifaceted world renowned music and TV super star and Interpol outlaw Noemie DeBray from The Soap Girls write "FUCK YOU MIKE!!" across it. What a time to be alive! If only grandma could see me now... she would've been starting the circle pit like she did at our shows back in the day.

Post-show meet-and-greet? More like fashion performance art. The SoapGirls wrapped up their RecordBar set in true punk-rock style — sharing a pair of leopard-print granny panties and turning the venue floor into their own chaotic catwalk.

Part of takeaway here is that this group is a force to be reckoned with and have created a movement and cult following on their own that supports and uplifts anyone willing to listen to their message. I know I'm not alone when I say that this is what the world needs right now. They emphasize the importance of questioning authority and to rise above what keeps us down. To be selfless, taking initiative and doing the right thing even when nobody is watching. Standing with those who stand alone, and to show us that it's possible live life to the fullest without fear—giving back and having fun along the way.

At the merch table I bought a Hate Breeds shirt softer than a cloud with a cyborg baby being stabbed and injected into its head by a colorful array of syringes filled with the ills of society and went home with a wholesome sense of fulfillment.

Looking fierce, feeling fearless — this official SoapGirls tee features their signature punk doll design and a powerful message. Wear it loud, wear it proud. Click here to grab yours from their merch store!

A few days later Millie was streaming outside their hotel somewhere in the desert providing fans with an update and expressing her love for the simplistic beauty of the desolate expanse. I expressed my worry that they would not return to the U.S. after the last show of their Wild at Heart tour in Dallas... and I couldn't blame them because of the direction this country is headed. But she paused, took the time to read my comment, and responded by saying that she doesn't subscribe to this idea because there are so many beautiful people here that make it worth their while.

This gives me a lot of hope and faith that we can still turn things around here—so long as there are warriors willing to have patience and courage—fighting to keep the moral high ground without the thought of surrender ever being an option. I don't know if they realize it or not, or want to be, but they are leaders and role models that touch the lives of people they may never meet. Their impact and influence grows by the day, restoring faith in humanity through acts of kindness, spreading wisdom to anyone willing to listen, and showing us that we can all achieve great things as long as we try.

Bob Dylan said get out of the new road if you can't lend a hand, and this band isn't waiting for anyone's validation. They're a steam roller paving the way towards a brighter future one venue at a time.

No shoes, no rules, and all attitude — The SoapGirls go full raw power in this electrifying black-and-white concert shot, delivering body art, basslines, and bold rebellion. Photo courtesy of The SoapGirls Facebook page.

They're headed to Europe after the U.S. and I can only assume that with the minimalist lifestyle there, they won't be needing a second tour van for all the gifts they've collected like they have in the material land of plenty here in the states. They cherish them all and have made it very clear that they love and appreciate every single one of them. So check them out and show some love no matter how small of a gesture it may be. They'll find room for it in the van (unless it's wifi) and remember you as a person instead of a number—you can count on it!

Be sure to follow them on all their social media, check out their website for tour dates and get some sweet quality merch while you're at it. This provides the fuel, rice pudding, and orange juice that keeps their tour manager, roadie, chauffer, body guard, assassin, and biggest fan (Sam) happy who helps keep the dream alive and rolling down the road to a city near you. 

Thanks for reading this far—you clearly have taste, grit, or nothing better to do. Either way, you’re my kind of people. Want more sharp takes, useful chaos, and mission-fueled mischief in your inbox? Join the Vibestrom email list. It’s like a punk zine for your better self—minus the glue stick.