Lavender Tallow Balm: What Actually Happened to My Skin This Winter

My face was basically a science experiment gone wrong. This was like, late November maybe. I was sitting there, 11:47pm, under the bathroom light that makes everything look worse, and my skin was just… angry. Not red angry, more like tight, flaky, weirdly itchy angry. Like it was a separate entity that hated me. I’d tried everything. The fancy La Mer cream my sister swore by? Felt like putting expensive wax paper on a desert. That CeraVe stuff in the big tub from the drugstore? Fine for my legs, did absolutely nothing for my face except maybe make it feel more confused. I even bought that Drunk Elephant Protini thing because an influencer said it was life-changing. It was not. My skin was still this dry, unhappy landscape. That’s when I saw someone mention tallow balm. Beef fat. For your face. I stared at my phone. Seriously?

How I Ended Up Putting Beef Fat on My Face

Look, I was desperate. My knuckles were starting to crack from the cold dry air, my cheeks felt like they’d shatter if I smiled too wide, and I was tired of spending a fortune on jars of goop that promised the world and delivered a faint layer of silicone. So I did the thing. I went down an internet rabbit hole at 2 AM. Found this little Etsy shop. They had this Whipped Tallow Balm, lavender scent. Made in France from grass-fed cows. The description said it was whipped so it wasn’t greasy, and that it mimics human skin oil so it sinks in deep. I read that part like five times. Mimics sebum. Our skin’s own oil. It kind of made a weird sense, you know? Like, we put plant oils on all the time, why not an animal fat our ancestors probably used? Still felt bizarre. But I clicked buy. The whole thing was a “well, it can’t get worse” move.

It arrived in a little brown box. No fancy packaging, just a glass jar. I opened it. Texture was weird. Not bad weird. It was solid but soft, like cold butter, but when you scoop some it kind of melts from your finger heat. Smelled like lavender. Not a candle store lavender, more like… real lavender. Herbal. Almost a bit earthy underneath. I was sitting on my couch, the neighbor’s dog was barking, and I just went for it. Rubbed a tiny bit between my palms and patted it on my dry, sad face. It felt… fine. Not greasy. A little shiny for a minute, then it was just gone. My skin felt calm. Not fixed, but quiet. Like it stopped yelling at me for a second.

Why This Tallow Stuff Actually Makes Sense

Okay so here’s the tangent. This reminds me of my grandpa. He had this old tin of something he’d put on his hands after working in the garage. Smelled like pine and maybe lard? I don’t know. The point is, sometimes the simple, old-school thing works in a way the complicated new formula doesn’t. That’s this tallow balm. It’s not a cocktail of 50 ingredients with unpronounceable names. It’s basically one thing: rendered beef fat, whipped with some lavender oil. The science bit, which I only half-understand, is that the fat molecules in tallow are really similar to the ones in our own skin’s sebum. So instead of sitting on top like a barrier (looking at you, petroleum jelly), it actually gets in there. It tells your skin, “Hey, I’m one of you, let me help.” It’s like the ultimate natural skincare hack for dry skin. For sensitive skin too, because there’s nothing in there to irritate you. I read that after I bought it, obviously. Felt smart.

Anyway, back to the jar. I started using it every night. After washing my face, just a little scoop. The lavender smell is… calming. It’s not a perfume, it’s an herb. It smells like the plant, not the idea of the plant. It became this little ritual. Pajamas on, TV on low, put on the balm. My skin drank it up. Within a few days, the tightness was gone. The flakiness around my nose and eyebrows just… stopped. It was wild. I didn’t expect much but honestly it works. My face just felt normal. Not “moisturized” in a glossy ad way, just… healthy. Like it had what it needed.

My Skin After a Few Weeks of This Stuff

So it’s been a month, maybe six weeks. Winter is fully here. The air is so dry it feels like it’s sucking the moisture out of the room. And my skin? It’s fine. Actually, it’s good. This is the weird part. I’m not a skincare person. I forget to wash my face half the time. But this tallow balm, I remember. Because my face feels better with it. The fine lines around my eyes that used to look more like cracks in dry soil? They’re just… less noticeable. Not gone, I’m not 20, but they’re not shouting for attention anymore. My hands, which were a lost cause, are actually okay. I put the balm on my knuckles before bed. They don’t crack and bleed when I make a fist in the morning. That alone is a miracle.

I got one for my mom. She has that super sensitive, reactive skin that turns red if you look at it wrong. She called me last week. “What is this magic in a jar?” she said. She uses it as a night cream. Says it’s the only thing that doesn’t make her face feel like it’s burning. I’m on my second jar now. The first one lasted forever, you need so little. I keep it on my nightstand. The glass jar feels nice, solid. Not cheap. It’s become this little non-negotiable thing. Like brushing my teeth. But for my skin.

Would I Buy This Lavender Tallow Balm Again?

Yeah. Obviously. I already did.

Look, if you’re like me and your skin gets pissed off in the winter, or just in general, and you’ve tried the lotions and the potions and the serums that cost as much as a car payment… this might be worth a shot. It sounds weird. Putting beef tallow on your face sounds like something from a medieval recipe book. But it’s not. It’s just a really simple, effective product that works with your skin, not against it. The lavender one is perfect for night. It’s relaxing. It smells like sleep. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s not a miracle cure for everything, but for dry skin? For that parched, tight, uncomfortable feeling? It’s a game-changer. A quiet, unassuming game-changer in a glass jar from France.

Anyway. My skin’s happy. I’m happy. That’s all I wanted. If you’re curious, the Etsy shop I got it from is called [Shop Name - to be inserted]. They just make the stuff and ship it. No drama. No influencer codes. Just a good, simple balm that works.

Quick Questions I Get Asked

Is beef tallow good for your face? Yeah, surprisingly. The fat is really similar to what our skin makes naturally, so it absorbs well and doesn’t just sit there clogging stuff up. It’s like giving your skin back what the dry air and harsh products strip away.

Does tallow balm clog pores? Not in my experience. And I’m prone to getting clogged pores. Because it mimics sebum, it seems to sink in instead of blocking pores. It’s not heavy or greasy once you rub it in.

What does the lavender tallow balm smell like? It smells like actual lavender plants. Herbal, a little earthy, clean. Not sweet or perfumey. It’s a calming smell, not a strong one. Fades pretty quick after you put it on.