AFQ: Ask Frequent Questions

At some point, the skincare industry stopped trying to help your skin and started trying to alter it.

Brighten it. Tighten it. Resurface it. Peel it. Exfoliate it faster. Turn it over quicker. Force it to do things it wasn't doing. Punish it for not looking the way it did 20 years ago.

And somewhere in that shift, a simple truth got buried: your skin is a living organ that maintains itself. It builds its own barrier. It produces its own hydration. It regulates its own turnover. It heals its own wounds. It does all of this automatically, the same way your liver detoxifies, your lungs oxygenate, and your immune system fights infection.

It doesn't need to be forced. It needs to be supported.

That's what this blog is about. Not a product pitch. A philosophy. The one that drives everything we make and everything we've written on this site.

The Skincare Spiral

You've lived this. Maybe you're living it right now.

A product promises to fix a concern. You buy it. It doesn't fix it, or it fixes one thing and creates another. Your skin gets drier, or more reactive, or breaks out in a way it didn't before. So you buy another product to address the new problem. That product creates its own set of issues. You add another step. Then another. Your bathroom counter fills up. Your skin gets worse. You spend more money. The cycle continues.

Products creating problems that require new products. On and on.

This isn't accidental. It's the natural consequence of an industry that profits from complexity. More steps means more products. More products means more revenue. The incentive is never to simplify your routine. The incentive is to expand it.

And the consumer, trying to do the right thing, ends up with a 7-step routine that's overwhelming a barrier designed to handle three.

Your Skin Already Knows How to Be Skin

Think about the rest of your body for a moment.

When you're low on iron, you don't try to redesign your blood. You give your body iron, and it builds red blood cells. When you're low on calcium, you don't try to force your bones to restructure. You provide calcium, and your body deposits it where it's needed. When you're low on vitamin D, you don't engineer a workaround. You get sunlight or take a supplement, and your body converts it.

The pattern is always the same: identify what's missing, supply it, and let the body do what it already knows how to do.

Why would skin be any different?

Your skin barrier is built from ceramides, cholesterol, and fatty acids. When those lipids are depleted, which happens naturally after menopause, the barrier develops gaps. Moisture escapes. Irritants get in. Redness appears. Texture changes. Sensitivity increases.

The solution isn't a serum that forces your skin to act differently. The solution is replacing the ceramides, cholesterol, and fatty acids that are missing. Giving the barrier what it's made of. And letting it rebuild itself.

Your skin holds moisture using hyaluronic acid. When HA production declines and the enzyme that destroys it accelerates, your skin dehydrates from within. The solution isn't a product that temporarily masks the dryness. The solution is replenishing the HA, blocking the enzyme that's destroying it, and letting the reservoir refill.

Your skin turns over cells on a cycle. When that cycle slows, dead cells linger, pigmented cells persist, and texture gets rough. The solution isn't aggressive exfoliation that strips the surface faster than new cells can replace it. The solution is supporting healthy turnover by giving the skin the conditions it needs to shed and renew at its own pace.

In every case, the approach is the same: identify what's depleted. Supply it. Let the skin do its job.

Assist, Don't Alter

This is the philosophical line that separates what we do from what most of the industry does.

Most skincare is designed to alter your skin. Force faster turnover. Suppress oil production. Bleach pigmentation. Tighten the surface temporarily with film-forming agents. Create a cosmetic effect that washes off and requires repurchase.

We design products to assist your skin. Supply the barrier lipids it's lost. Provide the humectants it needs to hold water. Protect the hyaluronic acid it's still producing from being destroyed. Cleanse without stripping. Support without overwhelming.

The distinction sounds subtle. It's not. It changes every formulation decision:

Instead of adding a long list of actives at aggressive concentrations, we ask: what does the skin actually need to function, and how do we deliver exactly that without overloading the system?

Instead of chasing the newest trending ingredient, we ask: is this ingredient something the skin recognizes and can use, or is it something the skin has to work around?

Instead of promising "visible results in 24 hours" (which almost always means a temporary cosmetic trick), we formulate for results that develop over weeks because the skin is genuinely rebuilding, not just being decorated.

The Honest Limits of This Philosophy

We've written extensively about what topicals can and can't do. This philosophy doesn't claim to reverse structural aging, eliminate cellulite, close dilated blood vessels, or replace what only a medical procedure can achieve.

What it does claim is that the surface of your skin, the barrier, the hydration, the texture, the tone, the resilience, can be meaningfully, measurably, genuinely improved by giving it what it's made of and protecting what it has.

That's not everything. But it's a lot. And it's honest.

Skincare, Not Skin Procedure

If you take one thing from this blog, let it be this:

The goal of skincare isn't to change your skin into something it's not. The goal is to give it the conditions to be the best version of what it is. Supplied with the right materials. Protected from unnecessary damage. Allowed to function the way it was built to function.

Your skin is not a project. It's not a problem to solve. It's a living system that's been maintaining itself for your entire life. When it struggles, it's usually because something it needs is missing, not because it needs to be overridden.

Find out what's missing. Put it back. Protect what remains. And get out of the way.

That's the whole philosophy. Everything we make is built on it.

Frequently Asked Questions

What does "assist, don't alter" mean in skincare? It means formulating products that supply the skin with materials it naturally uses (ceramides, humectants, fatty acids) rather than forcing it to behave differently through aggressive actives. The goal is to support the skin's own maintenance processes, not override them.

Why do multi-step routines often make skin worse? After 50, the skin barrier processes ingredients more slowly and with less capacity. Layering multiple actives can overwhelm the barrier, cause irritation and inflammation, and create the very problems the products were meant to solve. A simpler routine with the right ingredients is more effective than a complex one with too many.

What does "feed your skin what it's made of" mean? Your skin barrier is built from specific lipids: ceramides, cholesterol, and fatty acids. Your hydration depends on hyaluronic acid and natural moisturizing factors. Products containing these skin-identical ingredients integrate into the barrier's structure rather than sitting on top of it. That's the difference between supplying raw materials and applying a coating.

Can skincare really make a difference, or is it all cosmetic? Genuine, measurable improvement is possible at the barrier and hydration level: reduced dryness, improved texture, calmer skin, less reactivity, better moisture retention. These are biological improvements that compound over time. What topicals can't do is reverse deep structural changes (collagen scaffolding loss, fat pad descent, elastin degradation). Understanding the distinction prevents frustration.

How is this different from what other skincare brands do? Most brands formulate around trending ingredients, aggressive actives, or cosmetic effects that create immediate visual results but don't change the skin's underlying condition. Our approach starts with the skin's actual biology: what's depleted, what's needed, and how to deliver it in a system that supports the barrier rather than challenging it.

f you've ever bought a product at a salon, spa, or medspa and thought "this seems expensive for what it is," you weren't wrong. You were just missing one piece of context.

It's not the formula that's expensive. It's the supply chain.

The beauty industry's distribution model hasn't changed in a century, and it adds more markup between the manufacturer and the consumer than almost any other industry. Understanding how it works won't just explain the price on the shelf. It'll change how you evaluate what you're paying for.

How a $10 Product Becomes a $160 Product

In most industries, a product moves through two or three steps to reach you. A brand makes it. A retailer sells it. You buy it. Each step adds a margin, but the margins are relatively standard: 8 to 20% for distribution, plus the retailer's markup.

The beauty industry works differently. Two things make it unusual.

Every link in the chain wants to double the price. Not add 15%. Double it. This is industry standard for professional beauty distribution. Each intermediary buys the product at one price and sells it to the next link at twice that price.

There are more links in the chain. A typical professional beauty product passes through two to four more hands than a comparable product in most other industries.

Here's what that looks like in practice:

A brand manufactures a product for $10.

The brand sells it to a national distributor for $20. The national distributor sells it to a regional distributor for $40. The regional distributor sells it to a salon or spa for $80. The salon sells it to you for $160.

A product that cost $10 to manufacture just arrived in your hands at 16x the production cost. Not because the formula is worth $160. Because four organizations each needed to double their money on the way to your bathroom.

Why the Chain Exists (It's Not Malicious, It's Structural)

Your hairdresser isn't overcharging you. Neither is the spa. They're buying at the price the distribution chain hands them, marking it up to cover their costs and earn a margin, and selling it to you. That's how business works.

The chain exists because there are hundreds of thousands of salons, barbershops, spas, and medspas across North America. No single brand can reach all of them directly. So brands partner with distributors who already have those relationships: national distributors who work with regional distributors who work with individual locations.

Each link provides a real service: warehousing, sales teams, logistics, account management. Each link charges for that service. The problem isn't that any individual link is being greedy. The problem is that four layers of doubling adds up to a price that has very little relationship to the value of what's inside the bottle.

What Happens When the Price Needs to Come Down

There's a limited market for $160 haircare and skincare products. Most consumers can't or won't pay that. So brands face a choice:

Option 1: Absorb the cost. The brand sells to the first distributor at barely above production cost, making almost nothing per unit, in hopes of making it up on volume. This can bring the shelf price down to $100 to $120. The product inside is still the same. The brand just made less money.

Option 2: Dilute the formula. The brand reduces the cost of goods by filling the product with inexpensive filler ingredients (water, thickeners, cheap emollients) and using the "good" ingredients at concentrations just high enough to appear on the label. This is sometimes called label-washing: the ingredient is present for the marketing, not for the efficacy.

This can bring the shelf price down to $80 to $110. The product is now cheaper to make AND cheaper to buy. But the formula is a fraction of what it could have been.

Both options are common. Both are rational business decisions within a system that forces them. And both result in the consumer either paying far more than necessary for a good formula or paying a fair price for a diluted one.

What We Chose to Do Instead

We explored the professional distribution model when we started. Our products would have needed to retail at roughly $200 per unit to survive the chain with our formulas intact.

We had two options: dilute the formulas to bring the cost down, or find a different way to sell.

We chose the second option. We sell directly to you.

No national distributor. No regional distributor. No salon markup. No intermediary margins. The price you pay reflects the cost of the formula, the packaging, the operations, and our margin. That's it.

This isn't a revolutionary business model. It's the same direct-to-consumer approach that dozens of industries have adopted. It's just uncommon in professional skincare because the distribution infrastructure has been entrenched for so long that most brands don't question it.

We questioned it. The math didn't work for us. And more importantly, it didn't work for you.

We'd rather put the money into the formula than into the middlemen. That means ceramides, PGA, phytosphingosine, and hyaluronic acid at the concentrations we believe in, not at the concentrations the distribution chain can afford.

What This Means for You as a Consumer

This isn't about vilifying salons or spas. Your hairdresser and your esthetician are skilled professionals. The products they recommend may genuinely be good. Many professional brands make excellent formulas.

The question isn't "is this product good?" The question is "am I paying for the formula or for the supply chain?"

When a $120 salon product and a $45 DTC product contain similar ingredients at similar concentrations, the difference in price isn't quality. It's distribution. You're not paying for better chemistry. You're paying for the real estate the product traveled through to reach you.

A few things to consider when evaluating any product's price:

Where are you buying it? Products sold through multiple intermediaries carry those costs in the price. DTC brands eliminate them.

What's the ingredient quality? Check the concentration claims, the formulation philosophy, and whether the brand is transparent about what's inside. A well-formulated product at a fair price is worth more than a diluted product at a premium one.

What are you paying for? The formula, the packaging, and the brand's margin are the value components. Distributor margins, warehouse fees, and sales rep commissions are supply chain components. Both end up in the price. Only one ends up on your skin.

The Price Should Reflect What's Inside the Bottle

The beauty industry's distribution model is a relic. It was built for an era before the internet, before DTC logistics, before brands could reach consumers directly. It persists because the infrastructure is entrenched and the margins are lucrative for everyone in the chain except the brand and the consumer.

We chose to step outside that model because we wanted to make the best possible formula and charge a fair price for it. Not a cheap price. A fair one. One that reflects what's inside the bottle, not how many hands the bottle passed through on its way to you.

That's not a marketing story. It's a math problem. And we'd rather show you the math than hide it.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why are salon skincare products so expensive? The professional beauty distribution model adds two to four intermediaries between the brand and the consumer, with each link approximately doubling the price. A product that costs $10 to manufacture can retail at $120 to $160 after passing through national distributors, regional distributors, and the salon's own markup.

Are professional products better than store-bought? Not inherently. Some professional brands produce excellent formulas. Others dilute their products to accommodate the distribution markup. Price doesn't reliably indicate quality in beauty because so much of the price reflects supply chain costs rather than formula investment.

Why does Basic Maintenance sell direct to consumer? To avoid the distribution markups that would have forced us to either raise prices to approximately $200 per product or dilute our formulas to reduce cost of goods. Selling directly allows us to invest in the formula and price it based on what's inside the bottle, not how many intermediaries touched it.

Is DTC skincare lower quality than professional skincare? No. DTC brands that invest their margin savings into formula quality can produce products equal to or better than professional brands. The distribution model doesn't determine the formulation quality. The brand's priorities do.

How can I tell if a product is worth its price? Look at ingredient transparency, concentration disclosure, formulation philosophy, and independent reviews. A product that's transparent about what's inside and why is generally a better investment than one that relies on brand prestige, packaging, or distribution exclusivity to justify its price.

Sources

This blog is based on direct industry experience. The distribution model described (brand > national distributor > regional distributor > retailer > consumer, with approximate 2x markup at each level) is standard professional beauty industry practice and has been publicly documented by industry analysts and trade publications.

If you've read our blogs on SLS and phthalates, you already know the pattern.

An ingredient gets flagged by a study. The media simplifies the findings. The internet amplifies the fear. Brands respond by slapping "free-from" on their labels. Consumers pay a premium for the reassurance. And nobody goes back to read what the study actually said.

Parabens are the textbook example. They might be the most feared ingredient in personal care, and the gap between public perception and scientific consensus is wider here than anywhere else in skincare.

Here's what happened, what the research actually shows, and why we don't use parabens (for a reason that has nothing to do with your health).

What Parabens Are (And What They Do)

Parabens are preservatives. Their job is to prevent bacteria, mold, and fungi from growing in your skincare, shampoo, body wash, and cosmetics.

This matters more than most people realize. Water-based personal care products are warm, moist environments. Without preservatives, they'd become breeding grounds for harmful microbes within days. Preservatives aren't a luxury ingredient. They're the reason your moisturizer doesn't give you an infection.

The most common parabens in personal care were methylparaben, ethylparaben, propylparaben, and butylparaben. They were often used in combinations, with each one targeting different types of microbial growth. They were effective, inexpensive, well-tolerated, and had decades of safe-use history.

Then the studies came.

What the Studies Found (And What They Didn't)

Three studies drove the paraben panic. All three are worth understanding, because they illustrate how real research gets distorted on its way from the lab to your Instagram feed.

Study 1: Parabens mimicked estrogen in rats. Researchers injected parabens directly beneath the skin of rats at high concentrations and found weak estrogenic activity. Excessive estrogen exposure has been linked to breast cancer and reproductive disorders. The media translated this as: "Parabens cause breast cancer."

What the study actually showed: at concentrations far higher than any cosmetic product contains, delivered by a route (subcutaneous injection) that bypasses every barrier your skin provides, parabens exhibited weak estrogenic activity in rodents. The estrogenic potency was roughly 10,000 to 100,000 times weaker than actual estrogen. The researchers themselves clarified that the results couldn't be directly extrapolated to normal cosmetic use.

Study 2: Parabens were found in breast tumor tissue. Researchers detected parabens in 20 human breast tumor samples. The media translated this as: "Parabens accumulate in breast tissue and cause tumors."

What the study actually showed: parabens were present in tumor tissue. That's a correlation, not a causation. The study included no comparison with normal, non-cancerous tissue. Without that comparison, you can't determine whether parabens were concentrated in tumor tissue specifically or whether they're simply present in breast tissue generally (which, given how ubiquitous parabens were in personal care at the time, would be expected). The study's own authors noted this limitation.

Study 3: Parabens accumulate in the body. Researchers measured paraben levels across the body at high doses and found measurable absorption. The media translated this as: "Daily paraben use builds up in your system."

What the study actually showed: at concentrations roughly 100 times higher than any personal care product would deliver, and applied across the entire body surface, parabens were absorbed and detectable. At real-world use concentrations and application areas, the absorption levels are dramatically lower. And parabens are rapidly metabolized and excreted, not stored.

What Happened Next (And Why It Matters)

The researchers behind each study clarified their findings. The scientific community, confused by the public reaction, studied parabens even more intensively. The results were consistent: no measurable link between paraben use in cosmetics and negative health effects at real-world exposure levels.

The European Commission's Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety reviewed the full body of evidence and concluded that methylparaben and ethylparaben are safe at current use levels. The Cosmetic Ingredient Review reached the same conclusion. The FDA has not restricted parabens. Health Canada has not restricted methylparaben or ethylparaben. Australia's regulatory body cleared them.

The scientific consensus in 2026 is the same as it was in 2010: parabens, at the concentrations used in personal care, are among the most well-studied and safest preservatives available.

But public perception had already calcified. "Paraben-free" became a marketing standard. Brands that tried to defend parabens were accused of not caring about consumer safety. The market moved. The science didn't.

One dermatologist coined the term "parabenoia" to describe the phenomenon. It's hard to argue with the accuracy of that word.

Why "Paraben-Free" Created a New Problem

Here's the irony that rarely gets discussed.

When brands stopped using parabens, they needed alternative preservatives. Some of those alternatives are less well-studied, less effective, or more irritating than the parabens they replaced.

Formaldehyde-releasing preservatives (like DMDM hydantoin and imidazolidinyl urea), which ARE associated with skin sensitization, saw increased use as paraben substitutes. Some "paraben-free" products use preservative systems that are less effective at preventing microbial contamination, potentially creating a greater health risk than the parabens they replaced.

The consumer demanded "safer" products based on debunked fears and, in some cases, ended up with products that were less safe by objective measures. The "paraben-free" label made people feel better while sometimes making the product worse.

This isn't an argument for going back to parabens. It's an argument for evaluating ingredients based on evidence rather than fear.

Why We Don't Use Parabens (And Our Honest Reason)

We don't use parabens. But unlike our decisions about surfactants (where gentler surfactants are genuinely better for barrier-compromised skin) or fragrance (where removing fragrance reduces irritation for reactive skin), there's no biology-based reason to avoid parabens for our audience specifically. Parabens are gentle, effective, and well-tolerated across skin types and conditions.

We avoid them because of consumer perception.

A strong majority of our customers believe parabens are harmful. Including parabens in our formulas would create a trust barrier that no amount of scientific explanation would overcome. We formulate for real people, not for a theoretical marketplace where everyone reads the primary literature.

Our preservative system uses phenoxyethanol. It's effective. It's well-tolerated. And since we're being fully transparent: it's synthetic. If you've ever seen a brand claim their phenoxyethanol-preserved product is "all natural," they're not being honest. Phenoxyethanol is a synthetic compound. We use it because it works, not because it sounds natural.

That's the honest answer. It's less satisfying than "we heroically protect you from dangerous chemicals." But it's true. And we'd rather give you the true answer than the marketable one.

The Pattern You've Seen Before

If you've read our blogs on SLS and phthalates, this story is familiar:

A legitimate concern gets simplified, amplified, and generalized until the fear bears no resemblance to the evidence. The problematic variants get restricted (butylparaben and propylparaben have been limited in the EU as a precautionary measure). The safe variants remain available but get swept up in the same stigma. Brands capitalize on the fear. Consumers pay more for products that solve a problem that doesn't exist.

The pattern repeats with every "free-from" trend. And the antidote is always the same: ask which specific chemical, at what concentration, with what evidence. Those questions dissolve the fear and reveal the facts.

Your skincare decisions should be based on what the science says, not what the label is afraid of.

Frequently Asked Questions

Are parabens bad for you? At the concentrations used in personal care products, no. Decades of research and reviews by every major regulatory body (EU SCCS, CIR, FDA, Health Canada) have found no measurable link between paraben use in cosmetics and negative health effects. The fear is based on studies that used concentrations and exposure routes far beyond real-world cosmetic use.

Do parabens cause breast cancer? There is no scientific evidence establishing a causal link between paraben use in cosmetics and breast cancer. The study that detected parabens in breast tumor tissue found a correlation but included no comparison with healthy tissue and cannot establish causation.

Are parabens hormone disruptors? Parabens exhibit extremely weak estrogenic activity in laboratory settings, roughly 10,000 to 100,000 times weaker than actual estrogen. At real-world cosmetic use concentrations, there is no evidence that this weak activity produces measurable hormonal effects in humans.

Why do brands say "paraben-free"? Consumer perception. Decades of media amplification of early studies (which the researchers themselves later clarified) created a widespread belief that parabens are dangerous. Brands respond to market demand. "Paraben-free" is a marketing claim driven by consumer fear, not by regulatory action or scientific consensus.

What preservatives are used instead of parabens? Common alternatives include phenoxyethanol, ethylhexylglycerin, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate, and in some cases, formaldehyde-releasing preservatives. Not all alternatives are better tolerated or better studied than the parabens they replaced.

Does Basic Maintenance use parabens? No. We use phenoxyethanol as our primary preservative. We avoid parabens because of consumer perception, not because of safety concerns. We're transparent about this distinction because honesty about ingredient decisions is part of how we build trust.

Sources

Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety. "Opinion on Parabens." European Commission. 2011. https://ec.europa.eu/health/scientific_committees/consumer_safety/docs/sccs_o_041.pdf

Cosmetic Ingredient Review. "Safety Assessment of Parabens." 2019. https://www.cir-safety.org/sites/default/files/Parabens_2.pdf

Sasseville, D., et al. "'Parabenoia' Debunked, or 'Who's Afraid of Parabens?'" Dermatitis. 2015. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26551354/

Bledzka, D., et al. "Parabens: From environmental studies to human health." Environment International. 2014. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/24657492/

Haman, C., et al. "Occurrence, fate and behavior of parabens in aquatic environments: a review." Water Research. 2015. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/25462712/

"Phthalate-free."

You've seen it on labels. You've probably looked for it when shopping. And if someone asked you why phthalates are bad, you'd probably say something like "they're hormone disruptors" or "they cause cancer" or, honestly, "I'm not totally sure, but I know you're supposed to avoid them."

That last answer is the most common one. And the most revealing. Because the phthalate conversation in skincare is a case study in how a legitimate concern about one specific chemical gets inflated into a blanket fear about an entire category, most of which has nothing to do with the product sitting on your bathroom shelf.

Here's the short version: there were three phthalates relevant to personal care. Two were banned years ago. The one that remains is well-studied and consistently found to be safe by every regulatory body that's evaluated it.

Here's the longer version, which is worth understanding because it's a useful lens for evaluating every "free-from" claim you'll ever encounter.

"Phthalates" Is a Category, Not a Chemical

This is where the confusion starts, and where the fear-mongering finds its foothold.

"Phthalates" is not one substance. It's a family of chemicals, each with different molecular structures, different functions, and different safety profiles. Lumping them together is like lumping all mushrooms together: some are delicious, some are medicinal, and some will kill you. Telling someone to "avoid mushrooms" because a few species are poisonous would mean missing out on every portobello, shiitake, and chanterelle that's perfectly safe.

That's exactly what happened with phthalates.

In personal care, only three phthalates were ever commonly used:

Diethyl Phthalate (DEP). Used as a solvent, primarily in fragrance formulations, to help dissolve and stabilize scent compounds. This is the one that's still in use worldwide, without restriction, because its safety profile is strong.

Dimethyl Phthalate (DMP). Used to create flexible films in hair care products. Phased out and banned from cosmetics since 2007 due to precautionary concerns.

Dibutyl Phthalate (DBP). Used as a plasticizer in nail polish to reduce brittleness and cracking. Also banned from cosmetics since 2007 due to concerns about endocrine disruption.

Two are gone. One remains. And the one that remains has been evaluated, re-evaluated, and cleared by the European Commission's Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety, the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, the FDA, Health Canada, and Australia's industrial chemicals regulator. Repeatedly. Over decades.

Why DBP and DMP Were Banned (And What That Has to Do With Your Moisturizer)

Here's the part the "phthalate-free" marketing always skips: the phthalates that were problematic were banned almost twenty years ago, and the concerns were primarily about exposure routes that have nothing to do with skincare.

DBP, the most scrutinized of the three, raised concerns around endocrine disruption. But the relevant exposure pathways were food consumption (eating foods that had contacted DBP-containing packaging), inhalation (breathing airborne phthalate particles from plastics and building materials), and hand-to-mouth contact (particularly relevant for children crawling on phthalate-containing flooring).

When animal studies showed reproductive effects from DBP, regulators acted. DBP and DMP were both restricted from cosmetic use in the EU in 2004 and phased out globally by 2007. The bans were precautionary, which is how regulation should work: when the data raises a concern, you remove the substance and let the science catch up.

But here's the part that matters for you: even the trace amounts of DBP that were used in cosmetics (primarily nail polish) passed every safety test at those concentrations. The bans were driven by cumulative environmental exposure across all sources, not by cosmetic use specifically.

And they happened almost two decades ago. DBP and DMP are not in your products. They haven't been for a long time. They're gone.

DEP: The One That's Still Here (And Why It's Fine)

Diethyl phthalate is the only phthalate still used in personal care products, and it's used primarily as a fragrance solvent. When you see "fragrance" or "parfum" on an ingredient label, DEP may be one of the components helping dissolve and stabilize the scent compounds.

The safety data on DEP is extensive and consistent:

The European Commission's Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety reviewed phthalates in cosmetics and concluded that DEP poses no risk at current use levels. The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission reached the same conclusion. The Australian government's chemical safety review found no basis for restriction. The Cosmetic Ingredient Review Expert Panel cleared it.

DEP does not show endocrine-disrupting activity at cosmetic-use concentrations. It does not bioaccumulate. It is rapidly metabolized and excreted. It has been in continuous, regulated use for decades without evidence of harm.

Is it the same chemical as DBP, the one that raised reproductive concerns? No. They share a family name the way a house cat shares a family name with a tiger. Related taxonomically. Completely different in practice.

So Why Does "Phthalate-Free" Sell?

Because fear is easier to market than nuance.

"Phthalate-free" works as a marketing claim because most consumers don't know there are different types of phthalates with different safety profiles. They've heard "phthalates are bad." They see "phthalate-free" on a label. They feel safer. The brand gets the sale.

Nobody stops to ask: which phthalate? At what concentration? With what evidence of harm? Is the phthalate in question even used in this product category?

The "free-from" marketing model doesn't require those answers. It requires the consumer to be afraid and the label to offer reassurance. The specifics are irrelevant to the transaction.

This isn't unique to phthalates. It's the same pattern behind "paraben-free," "sulfate-free," and a dozen other claims that capitalize on fear of ingredients the consumer can't pronounce. Some of those fears have scientific basis. Many don't. The marketing works either way.

The most valuable skill you can develop as a skincare consumer isn't memorizing ingredient blacklists. It's learning to ask: which specific chemical? What does the research say? At what dose? In what context? Those four questions dissolve about 90% of ingredient fear on contact.

Why Phthalates Aren't in Our Products (And It Has Nothing to Do With Safety)

We don't use phthalates. But not because they're dangerous.

We don't use phthalates because we don't use fragrance.

DEP, the only phthalate still in use, exists in personal care primarily as a fragrance solvent. Our products are fragrance-free by design, not because fragrance is toxic (at regulated concentrations, most fragrance compounds are safe), but because our audience has skin that's already barrier-compromised and reactive, and fragrance is the most common cause of contact irritation in skincare.

When you remove fragrance from the formula, phthalates leave with it. There's nothing to dissolve. No solvent needed.

So "phthalate-free" is accurate for our products, but it's a byproduct of being fragrance-free. We don't avoid phthalates because they scare us. We avoid fragrance because our customers' skin doesn't need it. The phthalate question resolved itself.

That's a less dramatic story than "we heroically protect you from dangerous chemicals." But it's the true one.

The Bigger Lesson: How to Read "Free-From" Claims

Phthalates are a perfect example of a pattern you'll see over and over in skincare marketing:

A legitimate concern about a specific chemical (DBP's endocrine disruption data) gets generalized to an entire category ("all phthalates are dangerous"). The nuance disappears. The problematic chemicals get banned. And then brands spend the next two decades marketing against chemicals that are either no longer in use or were never harmful in the first place.

The consumer ends up avoiding ingredients that don't need avoiding, paying premium prices for "free-from" claims that solve problems that don't exist, and missing the actual questions that matter: Is this formula supporting my skin? Is it irritating my barrier? Is it doing what it claims?

Those questions are harder to answer than "does the label say phthalate-free?" But they're the ones that actually determine whether a product helps your skin or wastes your money.

Frequently Asked Questions

Are phthalates dangerous? It depends on which phthalate. DBP and DMP raised legitimate safety concerns and were banned from cosmetics in 2004-2007. DEP, the only phthalate still used in personal care (primarily as a fragrance solvent), has been consistently found safe at use concentrations by every major regulatory body worldwide.

Why were phthalates banned? Only two phthalates (DBP and DMP) were banned from cosmetics, primarily due to precautionary concerns about endocrine disruption. The relevant exposure pathways were mostly food packaging, airborne particles, and hand-to-mouth contact, not cosmetic application. DEP was not banned and continues to be used without restriction.

Are phthalates still used in skincare? DEP (Diethyl Phthalate) is still used worldwide, primarily as a solvent in fragrance formulations. If a product contains synthetic fragrance, it may contain DEP. Products that are fragrance-free typically don't contain any phthalates.

Should I look for "phthalate-free" products? The problematic phthalates (DBP, DMP) were banned from cosmetics almost two decades ago. They're not in your products regardless of what the label says. The remaining phthalate (DEP) is well-studied and consistently found safe. "Phthalate-free" is a marketing claim, not a safety distinction, in 2026.

What does "phthalate-free" actually mean? It means the product doesn't contain any chemicals from the phthalate family. Since the two phthalates of concern (DBP, DMP) are already banned and the remaining one (DEP) is used almost exclusively in fragrance, a fragrance-free product is effectively phthalate-free by default, even without the label claim.

How do I know if my products contain phthalates? DEP may be present in products that list "fragrance" or "parfum" in their ingredients, as it's used as a fragrance solvent. It isn't always listed separately because fragrance formulations are considered trade secrets. If a product is fragrance-free, it almost certainly doesn't contain phthalates.

Sources

Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety. "Opinion on Phthalates in Cosmetic Products." European Commission. 2007. https://ec.europa.eu/health/ph_risk/committees/04_sccp/docs/sccp_o_106.pdf

U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission. "Toxicity Review of Dibutyl Phthalate." https://www.cpsc.gov/s3fs-public/ToxicityReviewOfDBP.pdf

European Chemicals Agency (ECHA). "Full Dossier on Dibutyl Phthalate." https://echa.europa.eu/documents/10162/04f79b21-0b6d-4e67-91b9-0a70d4ea7500

Australian Government. "Existing Chemical Hazard Report: Dibutyl Phthalate." 2008. https://www.industrialchemicals.gov.au/sites/default/files/Dibutyl%20phthalate%20DBP.pdf

U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. "Dibutyl Phthalate Fact Sheet." 2000. https://www.epa.gov/sites/default/files/2016-09/documents/dibutyl-phthalate.pdf

U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. "Toxicological Profile for Di-n-Butyl Phthalate." 2001. https://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/toxprofiles/tp135.pdf

If you've bought a shampoo, body wash, or cleanser in the last ten years, you've almost certainly seen "SLS-Free" on the label. Ours included.

It's one of the most common "free-from" claims in personal care. And if you've seen it enough times, you've probably absorbed the implication: SLS must be bad. Why else would so many brands brag about not using it?

Here's the awkward truth: the science doesn't support the fear. SLS is not carcinogenic. It's not an endocrine disruptor. It doesn't accumulate in your body. And in properly formulated products at appropriate concentrations, it's not the skin-destroying villain the internet has made it out to be.

So why do brands avoid it? Why do WE avoid it? And should YOU care?

The answers are more honest, and more interesting, than the marketing would suggest.

What SLS Actually Is (In Plain Language)

SLS stands for Sodium Lauryl Sulfate. It's a surfactant, which is a shortened way of saying "surface active agent." A surfactant's job is to help water and oil mix so that dirt, sebum, and grime can be lifted off a surface and rinsed away.

Every cleanser, shampoo, body wash, dish soap, and laundry detergent on the planet uses some type of surfactant. Without one, water would just bead up on oily skin and slide off without cleaning anything. Surfactants are the reason soap works.

SLS is one of the most effective surfactants ever developed. One end of the molecule grabs onto oil and grease. The other end grabs onto water. Together, they pull dirt off the surface, suspend it in water, and allow it to be rinsed away.

It's cheap to produce, it works extremely well, and it creates a satisfying lather, which is cosmetically important because people associate foam with "clean." That combination of effectiveness, cost, and user experience is why SLS has been the default surfactant in personal care for decades.

One important distinction: SLS (Sodium Lauryl Sulfate) is not the same as SLES (Sodium Laureth Sulfate). The names are similar enough that people confuse them constantly. SLES has been through an additional processing step called ethoxylation, which makes it significantly milder. Most of the concerns people have about "sulfates" are aimed at SLS specifically. SLES is gentler, and the two shouldn't be treated as interchangeable.

The Myths (And What the Research Actually Shows)

SLS has accumulated a remarkable collection of scary claims over the years, most of which don't hold up when you look at the actual evidence. Let's go through them.

"SLS is carcinogenic."

No. There is no scientific evidence linking SLS or SLES to cancer. None. The Cosmetic Ingredient Review (CIR) Expert Panel, which independently evaluates the safety of cosmetic ingredients, reviewed the data and found no carcinogenic activity. The American Cancer Society does not list SLS as a carcinogen. Neither does the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC). This claim has been circulating online for over two decades and has never been supported by a single peer-reviewed study.

"SLS is a hormone disruptor."

No. There is no scientific evidence linking SLS to infertility, developmental issues, or hormonal disruption of any kind. This claim appears to have originated from the same chain-email-era misinformation that spawned the carcinogen myth, and it has exactly as much evidence behind it: zero.

"SLS accumulates in your body."

It doesn't. While microscopic amounts can be absorbed if pure SLS is applied directly to the skin surface, even then most of it sits on top. What does get absorbed is rapidly metabolized by the liver and excreted. That is quite literally what the liver exists to do. A 2015 review in Environmental Health Insights confirmed that SLS does not bioaccumulate.

"SLS is toxic."

The dose makes the poison. Every chemical has a toxic dose. Table salt has a toxic dose. Water has a toxic dose. The "acute oral toxicity" data that gets cited in anti-SLS content refers to the amount of pure SLS that would be lethal if ingested in large quantities by laboratory animals. This is relevant if you plan on drinking your body wash. If you don't, it's irrelevant.

At the concentrations used in personal care products (typically 1% to 5% in rinse-off products like shampoos and body washes), SLS does not pose a toxicity risk. This is well-established and has been reviewed extensively by regulatory bodies worldwide.

"SLS is an environmental toxin."

Context matters here. At extremely high concentrations, SLS can be mildly toxic to aquatic life. However, the diluted amounts in personal care products, which then pass through municipal water treatment systems before reaching natural water sources, are reduced to negligible levels. SLS is also readily biodegradable. If the SLS is derived from palm oil, the environmental concern is the palm oil sourcing (deforestation), not the SLS chemistry itself.

The One Thing That IS True (And Why It Actually Matters)

Here's the part the SLS defenders sometimes gloss over, and it's the part that matters most for your skin.

SLS is irritating.

Not in the "it'll harm you" sense. In the "it's a very effective cleanser that can strip your skin more than necessary" sense.

SLS is one of the strongest surfactants available. That's its job, and it does it well. But "well" can become "too well" depending on your skin and how the product is formulated. On skin that's already dry, thin, or barrier-compromised, a strong surfactant can remove not just the dirt and excess oil you want gone, but also the natural lipids your barrier needs to function.

Think of it like the difference between a pressure washer and a garden hose. Both clean. One is dramatically more aggressive. If you're washing a concrete driveway, the pressure washer is perfect. If you're rinsing a flower bed, it's going to cause damage. Not because the pressure washer is "toxic." Because it's too much force for the surface it's hitting.

Research confirms this. A 2006 study in Contact Dermatitis showed that SLS exposure can trigger cytokine release in the stratum corneum, an inflammatory response. A 2016 study in the Journal of Oleo Science found that SLS stimulates the generation of reactive oxygen species through interactions with cell membranes.

But here's the nuance: these studies typically use extended contact times and higher concentrations than real-world product usage. In a shampoo or body wash that you lather on and rinse off within 60 seconds, the exposure is brief and the concentration is low. In a leave-on product (which is rare for SLS formulations), the concern would be greater.

Any competent cosmetic chemist formulating with SLS will include co-surfactants that buffer its strength, adjust the pH for skin compatibility, and design the product for appropriate contact time. SLS in a well-formulated rinse-off product, used by someone with healthy, resilient skin, is generally fine.

The question is whether "generally fine" is the bar you want to set for your skin.

Why This Matters More If You're Over 50

Here's where the SLS conversation connects to something bigger.

If you've been reading our blog, you know what happens to skin after menopause. Ceramide production drops. The barrier develops gaps. Moisture escapes faster. The acid mantle becomes more vulnerable. The skin's ability to recover from irritation slows down.

On young, well-stocked skin with a robust barrier, SLS in a rinse-off cleanser is a non-event. The barrier absorbs the brief exposure, the natural lipids replenish quickly, and no lasting impact occurs.

On depleted, barrier-compromised skin after 50? The math changes.

A surfactant that strips natural lipids is hitting a barrier that's already running low on lipids. The barrier can't replenish as quickly because the factory that produces ceramides is running at reduced capacity. Each cleanse removes a little more than the skin can replace. Over weeks and months, the cumulative effect compounds.

This isn't because SLS is "bad." It's because the skin it's being used on has changed. The same surfactant that was fine at 30 may be too aggressive at 55. Not because the chemistry changed. Because the biology did.

This is why pH-balanced, gentle cleansing matters more after menopause than at any other time in your life. Not because of the myths. Because of the barrier.

Why We Don't Use SLS (And It's Not Because of the Myths)

Let me be direct about this.

We don't avoid SLS because it causes cancer (it doesn't). We don't avoid it because it's toxic (it isn't). We don't avoid it because it accumulates in your body (it doesn't). And we don't avoid it because of internet fear-mongering, although there's certainly no shortage of that.

We avoid SLS because our products are formulated for skin that is already depleted.

Our audience is primarily women over 50 whose barriers have been weakened by estrogen decline, ceramide loss, and years of accumulated environmental stress. For that skin, the goal of every step in the routine, including cleansing, is to preserve what remains. A surfactant that strips aggressively, even briefly, works against that goal.

We use gentler surfactants that clean effectively without pulling the lipids the barrier can't afford to lose. It costs more. It's less efficient from a formulation standpoint. And it's the right call for the skin we're formulating for.

That's it. No drama. No villainizing. Just a formulation decision based on the biology of our customer's skin.

If you're 30 with a healthy barrier and you like a shampoo that contains SLS, use it. It won't hurt you. If you're 55 and your skin is dry, reactive, and struggling to hold moisture, consider whether your cleanser is working with your barrier or against it. That's not an SLS question. That's a barrier question. SLS just happens to be on the aggressive end of the surfactant spectrum for skin that needs the gentle end.

SLS Isn't the Enemy. The Myths Are.

Sodium Lauryl Sulfate is a well-studied, effective, safe surfactant that has been unfairly demonized by decades of internet misinformation. It's not carcinogenic. It's not toxic at use concentrations. It doesn't accumulate. It doesn't disrupt hormones. The fear is louder than the science.

What SLS is, honestly, is strong. And for skin that's already depleted, strong isn't what you need. You need clean without the collateral damage. That's a formulation philosophy, not a safety warning.

Don't avoid SLS because you're afraid of it. Avoid it if your skin tells you it's too much. Your skin is smarter than the internet. Listen to it.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is SLS bad for you? No. SLS is not carcinogenic, not a hormone disruptor, and does not accumulate in the body. At the concentrations used in personal care products (typically 1% to 5% in rinse-off products), it does not pose a health risk. It is, however, one of the stronger surfactants available, which means it can strip natural oils from the skin more aggressively than gentler alternatives.

What's the difference between SLS and SLES? SLS (Sodium Lauryl Sulfate) and SLES (Sodium Laureth Sulfate) are different chemicals despite similar names. SLES has undergone an additional processing step (ethoxylation) that makes it significantly milder and less irritating. Most of the concerns about "sulfates" are specific to SLS. The two should not be treated as interchangeable.

Does SLS cause cancer? No. There is no scientific evidence linking SLS to cancer. The Cosmetic Ingredient Review Expert Panel, the American Cancer Society, and the International Agency for Research on Cancer have all reviewed the data. None list SLS as a carcinogen.

Is SLS bad for your hair? SLS is an effective cleanser that can strip natural oils from the hair and scalp. For people with dry, damaged, or color-treated hair, this can exacerbate dryness and make hair feel rough. Gentler surfactants (sulfate-free shampoos) are often recommended for these hair types. For people with healthy, oily hair, SLS-based shampoos generally work fine.

Why do so many brands say "SLS-Free"? Consumer demand. Decades of internet misinformation have created a widespread belief that SLS is dangerous. Brands respond to market perception, even when the science doesn't support the concern. "SLS-Free" is a marketing claim driven by consumer fear, not by scientific evidence of harm.

Should I switch to an SLS-free cleanser? If your skin is dry, reactive, sensitive, or barrier-compromised (common after 50), a gentler surfactant may be beneficial, not because SLS is dangerous, but because your barrier doesn't need aggressive stripping. If your skin is healthy and resilient and you like your current products, there's no safety reason to switch.

Sources

Bondi, C., et al. "Human and Environmental Toxicity of Sodium Lauryl Sulfate (SLS): Evidence for Safe Use in Household Cleaning Products." Environmental Health Insights. 2015. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4651417/

Cosmetic Ingredient Review (CIR). "Final Report on the Safety Assessment of Sodium Lauryl Sulfate and Ammonium Lauryl Sulfate." International Journal of Toxicology. 2005. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.3109/10915818309142005

De Jongh, C.M., et al. "Stratum corneum cytokines and skin irritation response to sodium lauryl sulfate." Contact Dermatitis. 2006. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/16787454/

Mizutani, T., et al. "Sodium Lauryl Sulfate Stimulates the Generation of Reactive Oxygen Species through Interactions with Cell Membranes." Journal of Oleo Science. 2016. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/27829611/

Horita, K., et al. "Effects of different base agents on prediction of skin irritation by sodium lauryl sulfate using patch testing and repeated application test." Toxicology. 2017. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28274658/

We use plastic. PET and HDPE specifically. Bottles and tubes.

If that surprises you, or if it bothers you, I understand. Plastic has a bad reputation, and a lot of that reputation is deserved. The ocean doesn't need more of it. Landfills don't need more of it. And "sustainable plastic" sounds like a contradiction.

But here's what most skincare brands won't tell you while they're marketing their glass bottles and bamboo lids: the sustainability conversation is more complicated than "plastic bad, glass good." Significantly more complicated. And when you look at the full lifecycle, not just the end of it, the answer might not be what you expect.

This blog is about why we chose the packaging we chose, what the data actually shows, and what we plan to change as soon as we can.

The Decision Isn't "What Looks Most Sustainable." It's "What IS Most Sustainable."

Most people evaluate packaging sustainability by looking at the end: what happens when you throw it away. Can it be recycled? Will it decompose? Will it sit in a landfill for 500 years?

Those are valid questions. But they're the last questions in a much longer chain. The full picture includes production (how much energy, water, and emissions does it take to make?), transportation (how much does it weigh and how far does it travel?), durability (how often does it break in transit, requiring replacement?), and then, finally, end-of-life (how is it disposed of?).

This is called a lifecycle analysis. And when you run one, the results are counterintuitive.

The Numbers Nobody Puts on the Label

Here's a snapshot comparing the three most common packaging materials in personal care:

Energy to produce: PET plastic bottle: 11 million BTU. Aluminum can: 16 million BTU. Glass bottle: 26.6 million BTU.

CO2 equivalent emissions: PET plastic: 1,125. Aluminum: 2,766. Glass: 4,848.

Glass takes more than double the energy of plastic to produce and generates more than four times the CO2. Aluminum sits in the middle. Plastic wins the production phase by a significant margin.

Transportation: Glass is heavy. Substantially heavier than plastic for the same volume. More weight means more fuel to ship, which means more emissions per unit transported. Every truck, container ship, and delivery van carrying glass bottles is burning more fuel than one carrying plastic. And if that glass breaks in transit (which it does, more often than people realize), the entire unit has to be reproduced and reshipped, doubling the carbon footprint of that order.

Durability: Your skincare products contain water as a primary ingredient. Water expands when it freezes. A plastic bottle flexes. A glass bottle cracks. Products sitting on a loading dock in January, in a delivery truck through a cold snap, or in an unheated warehouse are all at risk. Breakage rates for glass at the freight, retail, and consumer level are meaningfully higher than plastic. Every broken bottle means waste, replacement, and double the emissions.

None of this makes plastic perfect. It makes plastic the least damaging option at the production, transportation, and durability stages for a brand at our scale.

"But Glass Is Infinitely Recyclable"

In theory, yes. Glass can be melted down and reformed into new glass indefinitely with no loss of quality. This is technically true and frequently marketed.

In practice? Not so much.

In the United States, only about 33% of disposed glass is actually recycled. The other 67% goes to landfill. In Canada, the numbers are marginally better but not enough to change the picture.

The reasons are systemic. North America primarily uses single-stream recycling, where all recyclables go into one bin. Glass breaks during collection and sorting, contaminating other materials. Clean, properly sorted glass needs to reach a cullet (crushed glass) producer to be recycled, and there are only about 400 of these facilities in the entire US and 100 in Canada. The infrastructure doesn't match the recycling potential.

Compare this to Europe, where multi-stream collection (consumers sort by material and color) achieves roughly 90% glass recycling rates. The material isn't the problem. The system is. And in North America, the system doesn't support the promise that glass packaging makes on the label.

Does this mean glass is bad? No. It means the claim "our glass packaging is sustainable" is only true if the recycling infrastructure exists where the customer lives. For most of our customers in the US and Canada, it doesn't.

PET and HDPE plastics (recycling codes 1 and 2) are the most recycled and easiest to recycle plastics in North America. They're readily identified at sorting facilities, compatible with existing single-stream systems, and have established markets for recycled material. They're not perfect. But they're more likely to actually get recycled than a glass jar in a North American household.

"What About Paper? Or Bamboo? Or Sugarcane?"

Every paper-based cosmetic container you've ever seen is either lined with plastic or treated with a resinous chemical to make it waterproof. It has to be. Paper gets wet. Your skincare products are primarily water. A paper container holding a water-based formula without a plastic or chemical barrier would dissolve.

So a "paper" container is really a plastic-lined paper container. The environmental benefit of the paper exterior is cosmetic. The functional barrier is still plastic or a synthetic coating. And the composite material (paper bonded to plastic) is often harder to recycle than either material alone.

Bamboo lids, sugarcane containers, and other biobased options face similar challenges: stability, compatibility, scalability, and often, a hidden reliance on conventional materials to actually function.

We're not against innovation. When a biobased packaging solution can protect a water-based formula, maintain stability across temperature extremes, meet safety standards, and do all of this at a price point that doesn't add $15 to each product, we'll evaluate it seriously. That option doesn't exist yet at our scale.

Why We Don't Use PCR Plastic (Yet)

PCR stands for Post-Consumer Recycled. These are plastics made from previously recycled material, cleaned, melted down, and reformed into new containers.

PCR plastics (specifically R-PET and R-HDPE) are the gold standard. They have the lowest contribution to global warming, ozone depletion, acidification, fossil resource consumption, and water use of any packaging material studied. Lower than virgin plastic. Lower than glass. Lower than aluminum. If we could use them today, we would.

We can't. The minimum order quantities for PCR containers are between 10,000 and 30,000 units per container type. We're buying our packaging 250 units at a time.

That's the reality of being a small brand. The most sustainable option exists. It's just not available at our volume. When it is, we'll switch. That's not a marketing promise. It's a business plan.

What We Actually Use (And Why)

All of our containers are virgin PET or HDPE plastic. Recycling codes 1 and 2. The most recyclable, most widely accepted plastics in North American recycling systems.

We chose them because:

They're the most energy-efficient packaging material to produce. They're the lightest to ship (lowest transportation emissions). They're the most durable (lowest breakage and replacement rates). They're compatible with our water-based formulas across temperature extremes. They're the most likely to actually be recycled in the systems our customers have access to. And they're available at the order volumes we need as a growing brand.

We'd prefer PCR. We'll get there. In the meantime, we chose the best option available to us, based on the full lifecycle data, not on what looks best on an Instagram flat-lay.

The Uncomfortable Truth About "Sustainable" Packaging in Skincare

Most "sustainable" packaging claims in the beauty industry are aesthetic decisions marketed as environmental ones.

A brand switches from plastic to glass. The glass is heavier to ship, takes more than double the energy to produce, generates four times the CO2, and has a 67% chance of ending up in a landfill anyway. But it photographs better. It looks premium. And "glass" sounds more natural than "plastic."

The consumer feels good about the purchase. The planet doesn't notice the difference. In many cases, the lifecycle impact is worse.

This isn't about shaming brands that use glass. Some have legitimate reasons (formula stability, refill programs, markets with strong recycling infrastructure). But the blanket assumption that glass equals sustainable and plastic equals destructive doesn't survive contact with the data.

The most honest thing a brand can do is show the math. So that's what we did.

We're Not Perfect. Here's What We're Working Toward.

We use virgin plastic because it's the best option at our scale. It's not the best option, period. PCR is. And we're working toward the volume that makes PCR feasible.

We minimize single-use plastic in our operations wherever possible: shipping materials, sampling, raw material packaging. Some tradeoffs still exist. We make them consciously and revisit them regularly.

We don't claim to be a "sustainable" brand in the way that word gets thrown around. We claim to make honest decisions based on the best data available, and to be transparent about the tradeoffs we're making and why.

That's all we can do right now. And we'd rather tell you the truth about where we are than market a story about where we're not.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why does Basic Maintenance use plastic packaging? Plastic (PET and HDPE) requires less than half the energy to produce compared to glass, generates significantly fewer CO2 emissions, is lighter to ship (lower transportation impact), is more durable (less breakage and replacement waste), and is more likely to be recycled in North American single-stream systems than glass.

Is glass packaging more sustainable than plastic? It depends on the recycling infrastructure where you live. Glass can theoretically be recycled infinitely, but in the US only about 33% of glass is actually recycled. Glass also takes more than double the energy to produce and generates over four times the CO2 of PET plastic. In Europe, where recycling rates reach 90%, glass performs much better.

What are PCR plastics? Post-Consumer Recycled (PCR) plastics are made from previously recycled material. They have the lowest environmental impact of any packaging material across production, transportation, and emissions. BM plans to transition to PCR plastic when order volumes make it feasible (current minimum orders are 10,000-30,000 units per container type).

Are your containers recyclable? Yes. All BM containers are PET or HDPE (recycling codes 1 and 2), which are the most widely accepted and commonly recycled plastics in North American recycling systems. Rinse them before recycling.

Why don't you use paper or bamboo packaging? Paper-based containers for liquid products require a plastic liner or chemical coating to be waterproof. The composite material is often harder to recycle than either component alone. The "paper" exterior is cosmetic. The functional barrier is still conventional. When a genuinely sustainable biobased option exists that meets stability, safety, and scalability requirements, we'll evaluate it.

Will you switch to different packaging in the future? Yes. PCR plastic (Post-Consumer Recycled PET and HDPE) is the target. It has the lowest environmental impact of any available packaging material. We'll transition when our order volumes reach the minimums required by PCR suppliers. That's a business milestone, not a marketing timeline.

Sources

U.S. EPA. "Documentation for Greenhouse Gas Emission and Energy Factors Used in the Waste Reduction Model." https://www.epa.gov/sites/default/files/2016-03/documents/warm_v14_containers_packaging_non-durable_goods_materials.pdf

Geyer, R., Jambeck, J.R., & Law, K.L. "Production, use, and fate of all plastics ever made." Science Advances. 2017.

Franklin Associates. "Impact of Plastics Packaging on Life Cycle Energy Consumption and Greenhouse Gas Emissions." 2014.

Jacoby, M. "Why Glass Recycling in the US Is Broken." Chemical & Engineering News. 2019. https://cen.acs.org/materials/inorganic-chemistry/glass-recycling-US-broken/97/i6

United Nations Environment Programme. "Single-Use Plastics: A Roadmap for Sustainability." 2018.

Gomes, T., Visconte, L., & Pacheco, E. "Life Cycle Assessment of Polyethylene Terephthalate Packaging: An Overview." Journal of Polymers and the Environment. 2019.

Vellini, M. & Savioli, M. "Energy and environmental analysis of glass container production and recycling." Energy. 2008.