Pineapple Tallow Balm: What Actually Happened to My Winter Skin

Look, my face was just mad at me. It was February, the air felt like static, and my regular stuff—the $38 cream from the fancy store, the serum in the blue bottle—wasn’t cutting it. My skin was tight. Sort of itchy. Just… beige. In a bad way. So I’m scrolling, my phone’s at 12%, and I see this thing about a tallow balm. Beef fat. For your face. I laughed. Out loud. My cat looked at me. But the shop had like, five thousand good reviews, and the one called “Whipped Tallow Balm - Pineapple” sounded less like cooking grease and more like a vacation. So I clicked it. I was skeptical, obviously. But my credit card was already out. Whatever.

Anyway, that’s how a jar of whipped beef fat from France ended up on my bathroom counter next to my toothpaste.

How I Started Putting Beef Tallow on My Face

My whole natural skincare routine before this was basically just hoping for the best. I’d tried oils. They just sat there. I’d try that thick drugstore cream in the tub, the one that smells like a grandma’s purse. It made my skin feel like it was wearing a plastic bag. Not great. So the idea of switching to natural products, like actually natural, was floating around. But tallow? That’s for candles. Or pie crusts. Right?

But the description said it was from grass-fed cows, whipped up. Mimics your skin’s own… sebum. That word always weirded me out. But the logic was there. If my skin’s dry, give it something it actually recognizes. Not a lab-made chemical with forty syllables. I was curious. And desperate. And the “Pineapple” scent said “tropical escape.” In February. I needed an escape. Even a smelly one.

So I ordered it. From this little Etsy shop. It wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t La Mer money either. It just showed up one Tuesday, in a simple box. No crazy packaging. Just a glass jar.

What This Pineapple Tallow Balm Actually Does

Okay, opening it. This is the weird part. I braced for a meat locker smell. Or like, frying bacon.

It didn’t smell like that.

It smelled like… pineapple. But not candy pineapple. Or cleaner pineapple. Like if a pineapple was subtle. And maybe sitting on a wooden table. With something else. I don’t know. It was cheerful. It made the bathroom smell better, which is a win on its own. The texture was weird. Not bad weird. It’s solid but if you put your finger in, it gives way. It’s whipped, like they said. It feels dense but then it just… melts. I don’t know how to describe it. You scoop a tiny bit and it warms up on your fingers instantly.

First time using it, I put it on at night. After I washed my face. I was watching some true crime show, the one with the guy who narrates really slowly. I rubbed a little between my palms and just patted it on. My face felt… immediately not tight. That was new. It didn’t feel greasy. It didn’t feel like anything was sitting on top. It was just gone. Absorbed. My skin felt quiet. That’s the only word. Not sticky, not shiny, not tight. Just quiet. I went to bed thinking “well, at least it doesn’t stink.”

But get this. Morning. My skin. It wasn’t red. I always have a little red patch by my nose, especially in winter. It was just… gone. Or calmed down, massively. And my skin felt soft. Not “product” soft. Like, my own skin soft. Like how my skin feels in, I don’t know, July after a week at the beach. That was the first clue this tallow balm daily use thing might not be a joke.

My Skin After a Few Weeks of This Stuff

So I kept using it. Morning and night. Just that. I stopped using the other serum. The fancy cream is now a hand cream, which is fine because my knuckles were cracking from the cold. This is where the real results showed up. It wasn’t a dramatic transformation. I didn’t look 20 again. That’s stupid.

But the little fine lines beside my eyes, the ones that look extra deep when I’m tired? They just looked… less thirsty. Filled in a bit. Not gone, but relaxed. The rough patch on my forehead, gone. Completely. My hands—I started using the balm on my hands because why not—stopped looking like lizard skin. No more cracks. My elbows haven’t been this smooth since I was a kid, I swear.

The best part was just the consistency. No drama. My skin just stopped freaking out. It was balanced. It didn’t get oily by 3 PM. It didn’t get dry and flaky by 10 AM. It was just… my skin. But happier. I’d catch my reflection in a window and think, “Huh. You look okay today.” That’s a big deal in February.

I told my sister about it. She was horrified. “You put cow fat on your face?” But then she saw my skin. She asked for the link. I think she bought the lavender one.

Would I Buy This Pineapple Tallow Balm Again?

Yeah. I already did.

I’m on my second jar. The first one lasted me almost three months, using it on my face and hands pretty much every day. You need so little. A pea-sized amount. Maybe two peas if my skin’s really thirsty. So the cost-per-use thing works out. For me, it’s a no-brainer now. It’s the only thing on my face besides sunscreen. My whole routine is wash, tallow, sunscreen. Done. It’s simple. It works. My skin is the best it’s been in years, maybe ever.

It’s not magic. It’s not going to lift your jowls or erase decades. But if your skin is dry, or sensitive, or just generally pissed off at modern life, this stuff calms it down. It feels like you’re giving your skin what it actually wants, not what some marketing guy thinks it should have. The pineapple scent is just a nice bonus. Makes it feel less… clinical.

Anyway. If you’re curious about switching to natural products and the whole beef tallow skincare thing has been bouncing around your head, I’d say just try it. I got mine from that Etsy shop, the one with all the reviews. It worked for me. My skin’s happy. I’m happy. That’s all I wanted.

Quick Questions I Get Asked

Is beef tallow good for your face? Yeah, surprisingly. The logic is it’s really similar to the oils our own skin makes. So it absorbs deep instead of sitting on top and clogging stuff up. It’s like giving your skin food it actually recognizes. My face definitely thinks it’s good.

Does tallow balm clog pores? Not in my experience. And I can get clogged pores easy. This stuff sinks right in. It’s not greasy. It’s more like it melts into your skin and then it’s just gone. My pores actually look better, not worse.

What does the Pineapple tallow balm smell like? It smells like pineapple. But not a fake, sugary smell. More like the idea of a pineapple. Tropical, sweet but not too sweet, clean. It’s cheerful. It doesn’t smell like beef at all, which was my biggest worry. It just makes my bathroom smell nice.