The Forgotten History of Tallow in Skincare

We didn’t set out to make skincare. We were just new parents with a baby who had dry, sensitive skin and no modern product seemed to help. The labels said “natural,” but the ingredients didn’t feel like anything we’d actually trust on newborn skin.

That’s when we stumbled across something old. Really old.

Tallow.

Not new. Not flashy. Just rendered beef fat—the stuff our ancestors used for nearly everything, including healing salves, moisturizers, and baby balms.

At first, it felt strange. Fat? On our faces?

But the moment we made our first batch and rubbed a bit into our baby’s cheeks, we knew. This wasn’t just an ingredient—it was a return. A reconnection with something time-tested, forgotten, and deeply effective.

Ancient Wisdom, Ancient Beauty Long before laboratories and lotions, humans used what they had. And fat was always central. In nearly every culture, rendered animal fat—like tallow—was a skincare staple. It was practical, nourishing, and came from the very animals that sustained them.

Even Cleopatra, the queen of Egyptian beauty rituals, used animal fats blended with herbs and essential oils to preserve her legendary glow. While she’s more often associated with milk baths and honey masks, early Egyptian records show ointments made with fat-based salves were common in her time—used to protect skin from the harsh desert sun and dry winds.

She wasn’t chasing beauty trends—she was using what worked. Nature’s design. Just like generations before and after her.

Pioneers, Midwives, and Mothers Fast-forward to early America. On homesteads across the country, rendering fat was part of life. After a harvest or butchering day, the leftover fat—something industrial society might throw away—was prized.

Mothers and midwives would melt it down, strain it, and mix it with healing herbs like calendula or comfrey. That balm became the go-to for everything: chapped lips, diaper rash, dry hands, cracked heels, sunburns, windburns, you name it.

They didn’t have fancy packaging or lab certifications. They had instinct. Experience. And fat.

It worked.

They passed down those recipes from generation to generation. But like so many simple things, they got lost in the noise of modern convenience.

What Replaced It—and Why It Matters In the 20th century, skincare became industrialized. Petroleum-based products hit the shelves. Water-based lotions were cheaper to produce. Seed oils, which spoil easily and oxidize on the skin, were marketed as “clean and light.” And tallow? It was labeled old-fashioned. Too “greasy.” Unrefined.

But ask anyone who’s struggled with eczema, psoriasis, or cracked skin: the modern stuff often burns. Or sits on top of the skin without helping at all. Or makes things worse.

Why? Because it’s not bio-compatible. Your skin doesn’t recognize synthetic emulsifiers and unstable seed oils. It does recognize fat—real fat.

Tallow: Our Ancestors Knew Beef tallow is rich in fatty acids that mirror human skin structure—like stearic, palmitic, and oleic acid. It contains fat-soluble vitamins A, D, E, and K, which are crucial for skin regeneration and repair. And it’s naturally antimicrobial, shelf-stable, and deeply healing.

Your great-grandmother used it. So did the herbalist in town. So did the midwife down the road.

And now, so do we.

This Isn’t Nostalgia—It’s Wisdom Tallow isn’t just “natural.” It’s deeply intentional. It’s what skin recognizes. It’s what your body has evolved with. It’s what was always used—until we forgot.

At Tried & True, we brought it back not as a trend, but as a foundation. Our skincare exists because we need it for our own family. We weren’t satisfied with watered-down formulas or greenwashed products. We wanted what women like Cleopatra, prairie mothers, and midwives trusted for centuries: whole, real, unprocessed care.

Want to know what makes tallow so biologically compatible with human skin?→ [Read: Why Grass-Fed Tallow Is the Queen of Skincare Fats]

Ready to experience it yourself?→ Shop our Whipped Tallow Balms

A rendition of Cleopatra applying animal fat balm.