My Honest Take on the Pear Tallow Balm: What Actually Happened to My Skin
Okay so. I was just sitting here, it’s like 11:47pm, and I was putting on that tallow balm again. The pear one. And I remembered I was gonna write something about it because my sister asked me what the hell I was putting on my face. Beef fat. Sounds weird, right? I thought so too. But here’s the thing. I got so fed up with the regular stuff. That whole natural vs commercial skincare thing they talk about? I get it now. I didn’t before. Anyway.
Last winter my skin just gave up. Completely. I was using this fancy cream from Sephora, the one in the green jar that costs like eighty bucks. La Mer? No, not that one. The other one. Drunk Elephant. Yeah. The Protini one. It did nothing. My face was tight and flaky and red and it just felt like I was putting expensive water on it. And then I’d try the drugstore stuff, the Cetaphil in the big tub, and it’d just sit on top of my skin. Greasy. But still flaky underneath. The whole situation was very… beige. Like, why does nothing work.
So I was scrolling on my phone one night, my foot was asleep from sitting weird, and I saw this thing about tallow balm. Beef tallow skincare. For your face. I was like, you have got to be kidding me. But the person talking about it had skin like… good skin. Not influencer skin. Real person skin. And I was desperate. And it was from this little Etsy shop, made in France, and the description said it was whipped tallow from grass-fed cows. And one of the scents was pear. I like pears. So I bought it. I didn’t expect much. Honestly I thought it was gonna be a whole thing.
How I Started Using Beef Fat on My Face
It arrived in this little jar. No fancy box. Just a jar. I opened it and poked it. The texture was weird. Not bad weird. It’s whipped, so it’s like… thick cloud? Cold butter that’s been whipped? I don’t know. You scoop a little and it warms up super fast in your hands. Smelled like pear. Not like candy pear. Like a real one, but softer. Gentle. It was a subtle sweetness, I guess. Fresh. Not overpowering.
I was so skeptical. I mean, beef fat. On my face. Before bed. I told my boyfriend and he made a face. But I did it anyway. Washed my face, patted it dry, and rubbed a tiny bit between my palms. It melted immediately. Like, instantly. Then I just… patted it on. My cheeks, my forehead, my neck. It absorbed. Like, actually went into my skin. It didn’t just sit there shining back at me like the Cetaphil. It was gone in a minute. My skin felt… calm. Not greasy. Not tight. Just calm. That was new.
The thing about tallow, which I read after I bought it because I do things backwards, is that it’s supposed to be really similar to the oils our skin makes already. Sebum. So it just… gets it. It sinks in deep instead of floating on top like a weird silicone-y film. That’s why it’s supposed to be good for eczema and super sensitive skin. My skin isn’t that bad, but it’s definitely sensitive. Everything makes it red. This didn’t.
Why This Tallow Balm Worked When Store Stuff Didn't
Okay so compare. The commercial moisturizer, even the “natural” ones at Whole Foods, they have a million ingredients. Water is always first. Then a bunch of oils and extracts and preservatives and fragrance. My skin has to figure out what to do with all that. And half the time it just gives up. The tallow balm? The ingredients list is short. Beef tallow, pear essential oil for scent, maybe some olive oil. That’s it. It’s a simple yet elegant—no wait, that’s an AI phrase. Scratch that. It’s just simple. My skin doesn’t have to work overtime.
The difference I noticed wasn’t overnight. But after a few days, my skin stopped freaking out. The flakiness on my cheeks and between my eyebrows just… stopped. After a week, my skin felt thicker. Not in a bad way. In a healthy way. Like it had a barrier again. I could go outside in the wind and my face wouldn’t feel like it was cracking. I started using it on my hands too, because winter turns them into sandpaper. The cracks on my knuckles healed. Actually healed.
I remember I was at the Walgreens on 5th, not the one by the highway, looking at the skincare aisle. And I just looked at all the bottles and jars and thought… none of this works. Not for me. It’s all promise. This tallow balm, this weird little jar of whipped fat, just did the thing. It moisturized. That’s all I wanted. No radiant glow or youthful appearance promises. Just no more dry, angry skin.
My Skin After a Few Weeks of the Pear Tallow Balm
So it’s been a few months now. I’m on my second jar. I keep it on my nightstand. The pear scent is light, it doesn’t smell like cooking grease at all, which was my big fear. It’s just a nice, fresh, fruity smell that’s gone in a few minutes anyway. My skin is just… normal now. It’s not a miracle. I still get a pimple if I eat too much sugar. But the baseline is just calm. Hydrated. It doesn’t feel like a problem I have to solve every morning and night.
I got one for my mom. She has psoriasis on her elbows. She was like, “You want me to put what on it?” But she tried it. And she texted me last week saying the patches are smoother. Not gone, but less angry. She said it’s the only thing that doesn’t sting. That’s the other thing—it doesn’t sting. Even when my skin was super irritated, putting this on didn’t hurt. It was just… soothing.
Would I call it the best natural moisturizer? I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t tried every natural moisturizer. But it’s the first one that actually felt like it was fixing the problem instead of masking it. It’s not a cream. It’s a balm. So it’s richer. But it doesn’t feel heavy. It’s a whole different category. A tallow balm review should probably be more technical but I don’t know the tech. I just know my face isn’t mad at me anymore.
Quick Questions I Get Asked
Is beef tallow good for your face? Yeah, weirdly. From what I understand, the fat from grass-fed cows is really similar to the oils our own skin produces. So it absorbs way better than a lot of plant oils or synthetic stuff. It’s like giving your skin something it already knows how to use. Good for sensitive skin, eczema, all that.
Does tallow balm clog pores? Not in my experience. And I’m prone to clogged pores. Because it absorbs so deeply, it doesn’t just sit in your pores like some waxy creams can. It’s non-comedogenic, which is a fancy word for “won’t clog your pores.” My skin actually feels clearer.
What does the pear tallow balm smell like? It’s nice. It’s not a strong candy smell. It’s like a fresh, ripe pear but softer. Light. Fruity but not sweet. The scent doesn’t stick around long after you put it on, which I like. It’s just a nice little moment when you’re applying it.
Anyway. If your skin is being difficult with all the regular stuff, and you’re curious about this whole tallow thing… might be worth a shot. I got mine from this little Etsy shop that makes them in France. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say the name? But if you search for whipped tallow balm pear, it’ll probably come up. My elbows haven’t been this smooth since… I don’t know when. So yeah. It just works. I don’t know what else to say.
