Okay so it’s like 10:17 PM. My face feels tight. The heater’s been on all day and it sounds like a dying robot. You know that winter feeling. Skin just sucks up all the moisture in the room and leaves you feeling like a lizard. I was just sitting there, scrolling, and my cheek felt like paper. That’s when I remember the jar. The tallow balm. The lavender one. It’s this whipped beef tallow balm thing I got on a whim from some Etsy shop in France, I think. Beef fat for your face. Sounded insane. But my skin was being so difficult, and I’d read something about how tallow mimics human skin oil or sebum or whatever, so it sinks in deep. I was desperate. So I got it. And now it’s just there, on my nightstand, next to a pile of receipts and a dead pen.
I use it at night. Almost every night now. Which is weird for me because I’m terrible at routines. But this one stuck.
How This Beef Tallow Thing Ended Up on My Face
Look, I was skeptical. Grass-fed beef suet whipped into a balm? For your face? Come on. It sounds like something your weird hippie aunt would make in her kitchen. I’d tried everything. Expensive stuff in fancy jars that did nothing. Cheap stuff that made me break out. My skin is… sensitive. And in winter? Forget it. Psoriasis patches on my elbows would get angry. Fine lines around my eyes looked more like canyons. Everything itched.
I told my sister about it before I bought it. She was like, “You’re putting what on your face?” And I was like, “I don’t know! It’s tallow! From cows!” We laughed. But then I ordered it anyway. The whole thing was a “why not” moment. A $30 “why not” moment. It arrived in this simple jar. No crazy packaging. Just… a cream-colored balm. I opened it. Smelled like lavender. Or like, lavender and… something else. Not perfume-y. More like the actual plant, dried. Herbal. Calming, I guess. That was the first point in its favor.
The texture was weird. Not bad weird. It’s solid in the jar but if you put your finger in, it gives way. It’s whipped, so it’s airy. Smooth? I guess smooth is the word. Not greasy. Cold at first. Then it melts. I don’t know how to describe it better than that. It just becomes oil on your skin. But not an oil that sits there. You rub it in and it’s like… gone. My brain kept waiting for the sticky pillow feeling. It never came.
My Actual Tallow Balm Routine (Such As It Is)
So my routine. It’s not a routine. It’s a thing I do when I remember. But with this, I remember. Because my skin feels like it’s begging for it by 9 PM.
I wash my face with whatever’s in the shower. Usually just water in the sink at night, if I’m being honest. I’m not a 10-step person. My feet are always cold on the bathroom tile. That’s a whole other thing. Anyway, I’m dry. I grab the jar. I scoop out a tiny bit with my ring finger. Like, the size of a small pea. Maybe a little less. You don’t need much. That’s another thing—this jar is lasting forever.
I rub it between my fingers to warm it up. It goes from balm to oil real fast. Then I just… pat it on. Press it, really. On my cheeks, my forehead, around my eyes. My neck. Always my neck. My neck gets so dry it feels like crepe paper. I do this sitting on the edge of my bed, half-watching some show I’ve seen ten times. The lavender smell is the last thing I notice before I turn the light off. It’s not strong. It’s just there. It’s not “sleep-promoting” in a magical way, but it does signal to my dumb brain that the day is over. Time to shut off. Anxiety relief? Maybe. It’s more like a habit now. A cue.
Sometimes I get sidetracked. I’ll put it on and then my phone will buzz. Or I’ll remember I didn’t feed the cat. Or I’ll start thinking about why my kitchen light flickers. But by the time I’m back in bed, my face doesn’t feel tight anymore. It just feels… normal. Not coated. Not shiny. Just normal. Like skin is supposed to feel, maybe. I don’t wake up greasy. I wake up and my skin doesn’t feel like it’s going to crack if I smile.
What Actually Happened After a Few Weeks
I didn’t expect a miracle. I really didn’t. But after maybe two, three weeks of this haphazard nightly tallow balm routine, I was in the car and I touched my cheek at a red light. And I was like, “Huh.” It was soft. Not “product” soft. Just… healthy soft. The psoriasis on my elbows? Way calmer. Not gone, but not rough and red. Just quieter. The fine lines around my eyes, the ones that look worse when I’m dehydrated, they just looked less… pronounced. Not erased. I’m not 20. But they looked like me, not like a dried-up version of me.
Here’s the weird part. I ran out of my fancy daytime moisturizer. The one that cost five times as much. And I just… didn’t replace it. On a cold morning, I used a tiny, tiny bit of the tallow balm. Like, half a pea. And it worked. It soaked right in under my sunscreen. No pilling. No weird shine. My daily skincare with tallow just became a thing. Not every day. But on the bad dry days, absolutely.
I got one for my mom for Christmas. She has super sensitive skin, like reactive sensitive. She called me a week later. “What is this witchcraft?” she said. She uses it on her hands now. Her knuckles were always cracked in winter. Not anymore.
Quick Questions I Get Asked
Is beef tallow good for your face?
Yeah, weirdly. From what I gathered, it’s similar to the oils our skin makes naturally. So instead of sitting on top like some waxy creams, it actually gets absorbed. My skin seems to know what to do with it. It’s good for fussy, sensitive skin. And fine lines, I guess because it’s so moisturizing.
Does tallow balm clog pores?
Hasn’t for me. And I can get clogged pores easy. It absorbs fast. It’s not a heavy grease. It’s more like a dry oil once it’s on. But everyone’s different, I guess. Patch test on your arm first.
What does the lavender tallow balm smell like?
It smells like actual lavender. Not like a candle or a cheap soap. More herbal, earthy. Timeless, like that. It’s calming. Not overpowering. Fades pretty quick after you put it on. Just a nice little relaxing scent before bed.
So yeah. I’m probably gonna order another jar soon. I’m maybe halfway through this one and I’ve had it for months. It just works. I don’t have a better explanation. If your skin is being difficult this winter, and the whole idea of using a beef tallow balm doesn’t totally weird you out, it might be worth a shot. I got mine from this little Etsy shop that makes them. It’s become a regular part of my life now. Like my weirdly specific coffee order or that one chair that doesn’t hurt my back. Just a thing that works.