Many people ask me:
“Isn't handmade too slow? Can't it be mechanized?”
I always smile when I hear this, because machines are indeed fast—they can even produce perfectly uniform shades.
But natural materials cannot.
Natural pigments vary in concentration, particle fineness, moisture content, and oil absorption ratios.
Forcing them into standardized products only destroys their inherent beauty.
Natural materials are living entities that demand respect.
For example:
Carmine powder turns orange when heated excessively, and pink when cooled too much;
Purple grass becomes bitter and discolored at high temperatures;
Dragon's blood resin must dissolve slowly at low temperatures—rushing it ruins it;
Beeswax loses its natural structure at high temperatures, making lipstick prone to breaking.
Machines won't pause for them, but I will.
I gently shift the mixing direction during stirring,
constantly adjust with a thermometer as oil temperatures rise,
and let the oils rest for seconds before pouring into molds—
allowing ingredients to truly meld together.
This is the essence of handcrafting—
not for artistic flair, but for quality.
Not for sentimentality, but for safety.
Not because slow work yields fine results, but because natural materials demand nothing less than heartfelt care.