In my work as a formulator, I’ve grown quite adept at creating in my head and on paper. I’ve heard composers do this, too. Since I’ve been developing products for over a decade, I’ve found that while actively working on a product, most of my time is spent lost in variables, whether I’m driving or in that in-between place of waking and falling asleep. I suppose I’m a bit like a composer myself, orchestrating symphonies of scent.
After several formulations with some level of success, I’ve grown confident in my abilities. With RAPHA Harmonizing Oil Cleanser, I was able to formulate the product entirely on paper, having never used an oil cleanser before. When it came time to create a cleanser for the line, I understood the chemistry. Like attracts like, and oil and water repel. Simple enough.
It only made sense to use an oil to cleanse the skin. Since skin doesn’t typically love the cleansing process, introducing a surfactant that would produce an overcorrection of sorts made little sense. But to gently coax the skin into releasing impurities using the same language the skin already speaks? This was the way.
When it came to which oils would best serve this purpose, I knew how I wanted the cleansing experience to feel. Soft. Luxurious. Cushiony. I also knew I wanted it to smell both calming and invigorating, perfectly balanced for morning and evening use. The essential oils I chose would provide astringent and antioxidant benefits while remaining grounded in calm.
I chose to utilize castor bean oil for its powerful purging properties. Back when I was a new mother, I experienced bouts of mastitis, and in avoiding antibiotics for myself, and therefore for my breastmilk, I leaned toward more holistic remedies. One of the most powerful of these was castor oil packs on my breasts. This oil, when held against the skin, increases lymph flow by widening the blood vessels, aiding in the removal of waste.
Including castor oil in a cleansing product made sense, but it had to be balanced by ingredients aimed at calming potential irritation. Enter chamomile in three forms: flowers added to the long solar infusion of base oils, steam-distilled Roman chamomile, and German chamomile CO₂ extract, which contains more of the compounds found in the flowers prior to the introduction of heat. Astringency and anti-inflammatory benefits came from lemon and turmeric.
In my mind, this was a combination that would feel incredible on the skin and be a delight to use, while also being highly effective not just in cleansing, but in purging and calming after the fact.
When it came time to actually make the product, my on-paper plan was perfect, save for a few adjustments to drops of essential oil. Remember this detail, because later, when we get to my most recent humbling reminder, a few drops sounds like a little, but makes all the difference.
There were other times in my formulation journey when I had to adjust tiny things hundreds of times before nailing it. Soap, and the complex chemistry therein, is one example, and I documented that journey extensively online. Lip Conditioner, one of my earliest products, took over one hundred tiny tweaks to the base formula to truly nail it. Being a total lip product junkie, read snob, I knew it had to be the right balance of wax and oil to nourish and satisfy, to last, and to essentially put itself out of a job.
But enough RAPHA-esque wins, and one starts to feel impervious to mistakes.
That is what happened to me in the formulation of our newest limited release, the forthcoming PSYCHE Ritual Massage Oil.
I was convinced that I could not only compose the bouquet of scent in my head, but go so far as to have the labels designed and printed before ever making the product. You can imagine my surprise when the day came to put the pieces together and the scent profile simply did not work. I wanted it to work because in my mind it absolutely did, but I was even more motivated to force it because the packaging was already finished.
I must have been distracted when pulling the trigger on this one. I forgot to include FCF after bergamot on the label, meaning furanocoumarin-free, non-phototoxic. Ingredient labels must be listed by weight, most to least, and I had boxed myself in. Without FCF, I was limited to phototoxic bergamot, which severely restricted my ability to correct scent imbalances using one of perfumery’s great saviors.
Rose, heart-opening as she is, is wildly potent, and my early attempts leaned far too floral for my liking. I began adjusting by adding Peru balsam, a touch more bergamot, and diluting generously with carrier oils. It was an entire day of futile trials and growing distress.
Another lesson emerged. Rose, and florals like her, require roots to stand tall. To create true complexity, a floral must be grounded. Cedarwood, it turns out, is not vetiver, and I learned this the hard way. To blindly list cedarwood as the dominant scent in a formula where I was also using a new-to-me essential oil, amyris, was bold, if not downright egoic.
One full day of error humbled me.
I trashed the labels and once again approached my workbench with humility and a renewed respect for the craft that has enthralled me all these years.
Failures are only failures if we refuse to learn from them. This lesson, for me, has been one of renewed respect, and therefore, renewed passion.
PSYCHE now holds an even more tender place in my heart because she played a little hard to get. Her scent was just out of reach until the final moment, then surrender. Now forever a little sweeter.
As you (or your lover) massage PSYCHE into your skin, I hope you can’t quite put your finger on the scent. I hope distinct notes elude you, because, as in the myth of Cupid and Psyche, it is in the mystery that love grows.
