Cleansing balm

A cleansing balm is an oil cleanser in solid form. Oils and waxes are blended without water into something that holds its shape in the jar and melts at the warmth of the skin, and an emulsifier is added so that the melted oil turns milky when water reaches it and rinses away instead of sitting on the face. The oil does the work. It dissolves the oils, waxes and silicones that long-wear foundation, waterproof mascara and sunscreen are made of, which is why a balm shifts what water-based removers leave behind.

It sits between two neighbours. A cleansing oil is the same idea in liquid form, quicker to spread and easier to spill; a cream cleanser contains water and is wiped or rinsed off without first melting. The balm’s advantages are practical ones: it travels without leaking, and its thicker texture stays where it is massaged.

Start with dry hands and a dry face; water added too early makes the balm emulsify before it has dissolved anything. Take a pea- to almond-sized amount with the spatula most jars come with, which keeps wet fingers out of the pot, warm it between the fingertips until it turns to oil, and massage it over the face for thirty seconds to a minute, working gently over closed eyes if the maker says the balm is for eyes. Mascara loosens faster if you rest the fingertips on the lashes for a moment instead of rubbing.

Then wet the fingertips and keep massaging. The balm turns milky as it emulsifies, and that milk is what rinses clean. Rinse with lukewarm water until the skin no longer feels slippery. A few balms are made to be taken off with a warm, damp cloth instead, and say so on the pot. Many people follow with a second, water-based cleanser: the “double cleanse”.

The first choice is how it comes off. Most balms now rinse clean with water; a few of the older style rely on a cloth, which buffs as it lifts but takes longer. Texture comes next. Sherbet-like balms melt quickly and feel light, buttery ones are richer and suit dry skin better, and gel-balms that turn to oil feel the least greasy.

Then read the label rather than the jar. Some balms carry essential oils or fragrance; others are sold as fragrance-free. Phrases such as “for sensitive skin” are the maker’s own: in the United States no federal standard defines “hypoallergenic” or similar claims.^[1] A jar suits a bathroom shelf; for travel, look for a tube or a small tin.

Choose the remover for the makeup, not the other way round. A balm or an oil earns its place when you wear long-wear foundation, sunscreen or waterproof mascara, the layers made to resist water. For bare skin or a light tinted moisturiser, micellar water or an ordinary cleanser is enough, and a balm is more than the job needs. For heavy eye makeup alone, a bi-phase remover on a pad is quicker and leaves less oil near the eyes. Balm and oil do the same job; the choice between them comes down to texture, travel and whether you prefer a pot or a pump.

A balm minds the heat, as its ancestors did: the liquefying cleansing creams of the 1930s tended to melt in the jar in summer, and makers had to alter their formulas for warm climates.^[2] Keep the pot off a sunny windowsill and away from the hot tap, and if it has softened, let it set again at room temperature. Keep water out of it too. A balm is made without water, which is why the spatula matters more than it seems: wet fingers carry water into the jar with every scoop. Close the lid after each use, and throw away a balm that has begun to smell off.

Before the balm there was cold cream: beeswax, oil and water, reputedly first mixed by Galen and printed in the London Pharmacopoeia of 1618. Cheaper, longer-lasting versions made with petrolatum followed Vaseline Cold Cream of 1876, and by the twentieth century cold cream was spread on thickly and wiped away, in theatres to take off greasepaint and at home to take off powder, rouge and lipstick.^[3]

The balm’s real ancestor arrived around 1920. The liquefying cleansing cream contained no water at all: mineral oil made firm with paraffin wax and later steadied with petroleum jelly, solid in the jar and melting on the skin. James Bennett, who has traced it through the trade press, suggests the idea came from actors, some of whom took off greasepaint with mineral oil. In 1931 Hinds advertised a cream that “melts at skin heat”, against “heavy” cleansing creams that went on “like lard”. Wiped off with tissues and probably followed by soap, liquefying creams were blamed for drying the skin and fell from favour after 1935, overtaken by lighter lotions made with new detergents.^[4]

The balm came back in another register. The facialist Eve Lom launched her cleanser in 1985, a balm massaged in and lifted away with a muslin cloth, and the company says its formula has not changed since.^[5] Most balms sold now carry an emulsifier and rinse away with water, which the liquefying creams, wiped off with tissues, did not. The idea is a century old; the rinse is what is new.