Americans Are All In on Cow-Based Wellness

Beef-tallow moisturizer is just the beginning.

An image of a black-and-white cow's head superimposed over larger versions of itself
Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic. Source: Clara Bastian / Getty.

A not-insignificant number of TikToks aim to convince the viewer that beef-tallow moisturizer will not make your face smell like cow. The beauty influencers who tend to appear in these videos—usually clear-skinned women rubbing tallow into their face as they detail their previous dermatological woes—describe the scent as “buttery” or “earthy” or grass-like. Many of them come to the same conclusion: Okay, even if the tallow does smell a little bit, the smooth skin it leaves behind is well worth it.

Beef tallow (as both a moisturizer and an alternative to seed oils) is one of many cow-based products that have crowded the wellness market in the past five or so years. Beef-bone broth is a grocery-store staple. Demand for raw milk has grown, despite numerous cases of illness and warnings from public-health officials that drinking it can be fatal. In certain circles, raw cow organs—heart, liver, kidney—are prized superfoods. Target and Walmart sell supplements containing bovine collagen (a protein found in cowhide and bone) and colostrum (the rich liquid that mammals produce for their newborn offspring); they promise healthier skin, a happier gut, and stronger immunity, and come in flavors such as watermelon lime, lemon sorbet, and “valiant grape.” You can buy cow-placenta pills for postpartum healing, or powdered bull testicle for testosterone support. The slightest interaction with clean-beauty Instagram can fill your feed with ads for beef-tallow lip balms, cleansing creams, sunscreen, and deodorants. (One brand even offers creamsicle-flavored beef-tallow personal lubricant, which is currently out of stock online.) Influencers praise tallow for clearing their acne and eczema—and offer discount codes so you can experience the same.