On beauty (The Way Your Grandmother Taught You)
Beauty from brass combs to cold cream
Beejliving’s love letter to the rituals, the scents, the softness, and the slow evolution from hair oil to cold cream to contour.
The Mirror Was a Metal Thali
There were no vanities then.
Just your grandmother sitting cross-legged, a round mirror in her lap, her hair let down like a river at dusk.
Beauty wasn’t performance.
It was a ritual.
Oiling as Inheritance
Hot oil. Slow fingers.
Coconut in the south, mustard in the north, sometimes infused with hibiscus, curry leaves, or fenugreek.
Hair oiling wasn’t a chore.
It was love passed down scalp to scalp, through generations.
Ubtan Days Were Spa Days
No appointments. No derms.
Just basin-side beauty.
Besan or atta, haldi, dahi or milk, rose water.
Mixed in steel bowls, applied in silence.
Exfoliation, without micro beads.
A glow that came from within and from masoor dal.
Kajal for Protection, Not Just Pretty Eyes
Made at home, with soot and castor oil.
Lined the eyes of babies and brides alike.
Not to seduce, but to protect.
From the evil eye. From harsh sun.
Because eyes are the mirror to
your soul.
Then Came the Creams
Charmis in a glass bottle.
Pond’s cold cream with that signature scent.
Boroline for everything.
Suddenly, Western beauty had a seat at the dressing table.
But nani still said, “Apply with upward strokes.”
The Era of Powder Compacts & Red Lipstick
The compact came with a puff.
The red was bold, even on brown skin.
Beauty was modern, yes, but always ours.
A mix of Revlon and home-prepped haldi and multani mitti.
Beauty Was Always Shared
We didn’t gatekeep.
We borrowed lipstick.
We used the same Lakmé pot for lips, cheeks, and the odd bindi.
We made do; we made beautiful.
It wasn’t about excess.
It was about enough.
Now We Have Salmon Sperm Serums and Microneedling
It’s all evolved now. It’s beauty on steroids.
But you still occasionally smear a bit of malai on your face, the same way your dadi used to save for your cheeks.
As you search for tenderness and tradition.
Epilogue
Beauty in India was never just external.
It was warmth in a copper bowl,
a ritual before school, a Sunday with sisters.
It was inherited, shared, and remixed.
It’s still here, just under the serum.
