From Herbarium to Botanical Skincare: How the Study of Plants Transformed My Beauty Rituals

When Botanical Skincare Begins with a Herbarium

My journey into botanical skincare didn’t start with beauty products — it began with four humble plants and a university herbarium assignment. The first time I collected chamomile, it wasn’t for tea or skincare — it was for my herbarium. I still remember gently pressing the petals between sheets of paper, careful not to crush their delicate scent. There were daisy, calendula, and lemon balm alongside her — my very first four.

Before I ever infused calendula into oil, I identified its leaf shape, stem texture, and blooming cycle. Back then, skincare wasn’t even in the picture—but looking back, that was the moment my botanical skincare journey quietly began.

Over time, that love for plants evolved into something richer: a deep-rooted curiosity about plant-based skincare and the power of naturally derived ingredients. I started noticing how certain plants didn’t just look beautiful—they did beautiful things, too.

My studies in biology and ecology taught me to look closer, to really see a plant — not just as a flower or remedy, but as a seasonal, sensory world. And that changed everything. Skincare wasn’t just a routine anymore — it became a way to stay connected.

If you’ve ever wanted to build a more profound ritual with the plants around you, this post is for you.

You’ll see how science, soil, and self-care can come together — and maybe even start your own botanical ritual.

👉 Start here if you’re new to working with herbs in skincare: Beginner’s Guide to DIY Skincare Ingredients

My Studies in Biology & Ecology: A Different Kind of Beauty School

At university, I didn’t study skincare—I studied stems, root systems, habitats, and herbariums. But somewhere between Latin names and chloroplast diagrams, something shifted. While everyone else saw leaves and petals, I started seeing texture, aroma, and possibility.

I still remember the first time I pressed chamomile. Its scent — soft, almost creamy, like the inside of a warm teacup — stayed on my fingertips longer than I expected. Daisy had no pungent smell, but its bright, wild innocence made it feel like a flower with a secret. Calendula was tougher and slightly resinous as if it had already been known it was meant for healing. And lemon balm? That one I’ll never forget. The crushed leaf released a citrusy-green burst that made the entire room smell like summer had just walked in.

These weren’t just plants. They were tiny lessons in natural balance — each carrying compounds and structures supporting growth, protection, and repair. I didn’t know it yet, but I was collecting more than just samples for class. I was gathering what would later become the core of my natural skin philosophy.

Botany taught me patience, and ecology taught me how plants live in harmony—not in isolation. That same perspective has shaped how I approach botanical extracts today: not as trends in a bottle but as living systems, carefully preserved in oils, infusions, and rituals.

From Pressed Plants to Infused Oils 

My relationship with plants shifted from observation to collaboration at some point. The petals I once dried between pages slowly found their way into glass jars, covered in oil, and left to steep on sunlit windowsills. I wasn’t just pressing plants anymore. I was pressing pause, watching the transformation from petal to potion.

Calendula was the first. I remember gently dropping the dried flowers into olive oil and waiting—not impatiently but curiously. The oil turned golden within days. It was rich, thick, and earthy—a nourishing oil that felt like it had absorbed the sun itself. It was perfect for dry skin but also kind to sensitive skin—something I only appreciated after testing it on my own cheeks after a windy spring walk.

Not sure which oil suits your skin type best? I’ve also created a Botanical Oil Guide to help you choose the right base for everything from dry to sensitive skin.

But beyond skin type, your choice of oil can reflect so much more — the season you’re in, how your skin feels today, or even the scent you need most in this moment. That’s the beauty of formulating with plants: there’s always room for listening, adjusting, and growing alongside them.

Then came chamomile. Its scent — soft and slightly sweet, like warm hay — melted into sunflower oil and became a skin-soothing base for my evening facial oil. It helped me create something that didn’t just soften the skin but softened the day.

But the true surprise was lemon balm. Its citrusy-green aroma made even the infusion process feel alive. The macerate was light, refreshing, and perfect for the oil serums I designed for those struggling with oily skin or hormonal shifts. It calmed without clogging, refreshed without stripping, and always made me smile when I opened the jar.

Over time, I began exploring combinations — layering botanical extracts into oils that could support different skin rhythms:

• Chamomile and calendula for sensitive skin
• Meadowfoam and lemon balm for oily skin
• Rosehip and sea buckthorn for mature, dry skin

What started as a way to stay connected to the plants I once studied became something much deeper: a dialogue between the skin and the seasons.

Skincare as a Pathway to Deepen Your Connection with Nature

There’s something deeply grounding about preparing your own skincare — especially when it begins in the garden or on a quiet walk. Picking flowers just as they open, letting them dry slowly in woven baskets, then gently infusing them into cold-pressed oils — it’s not just about creating a product. It’s about being present.

I started to notice how my skin mirrored the seasons. In spring, it craved lightness. In winter, it needed protection. This awareness shaped how I blended each oil serum — not to fix flaws but to support my skin’s natural rhythm.

Some mornings, I’d warm a few drops of nourishing oil between my palms and pause before applying it — as if chamomile or lemon balm reminded me to breathe. Other times, I’d find comfort in rituals: shaking the macerate jar, labeling it with the harvest date, or scribbling notes in my skincare journal like a modern-day herbalist.

It was never just about results. It became about returning — to myself, to the plants, to something slower and softer.

How to Begin Your Own Natural Skincare Ritual

Starting with natural skincare is as simple as embracing a single plant, one jar of oil, and a little patience.

If you’re not sure where to begin, here are a few gentle ways to ease into the ritual:

• 🌼 Pick one plant you recognize often — maybe chamomile, calendula, or lemon balm. Learn its name, its season, its scent.
• 🫙 Infuse a simple oil like sunflower or olive with that dried plant. Over time, you’ll notice how these nourishing oils don’t just moisturize — they carry the memory of the plant itself.
• ✍️ Keep a mini skincare journal. Write down what you used, how it felt, and how your skin responded.
• 🧴 Try a simple cleansing balm. Melt shea butter with a bit of infused oil and see how it works for prone skin, especially if you’re dealing with breakouts or sensitivity.
• 💡 Don’t aim for perfection. Aim for presence. This ritual is about reconnecting — not fixing.

Natural skincare isn’t something you buy — it’s something you build, slowly, intuitively, plant by plant.

Conclusion – Science, Soul & Skincare

Studying plants taught me their Latin names — but working with them taught me their power.

The more I engaged with herbs like chamomile, calendula, and lemon balm, the more I saw skincare not as a correction but as a connection. And now, science is starting to echo what herbalists have always known. A 2021 review in the International Journal of Molecular Sciences confirms that botanical extracts contain compounds — like flavonoids and polyphenols — that help reduce inflammation, support skin regeneration, and visibly improve the appearance of fine lines and other signs of aging (PubMed ID: 34208257).

Even more beautiful? These benefits don’t require complexity—just well-chosen, slowly infused, plant-based rituals that honor mature skin and support its natural rhythm.

What I love most about working with plants isn’t just what they do for my skin—it’s what they teach me about living well, about taking only what you need, about patience, reciprocity, and noticing the small changes.

Botanical skincare is, at its heart, a slow, sustainable practice. It reduces waste, celebrates seasonal ingredients, and cuts down on unnecessary packaging. There are no plastic-wrapped trends, no overflowing shelves—just a few jars, some dried petals, and time.

When we return to the rhythm of the natural world, our skin often follows — softening, balancing, and remembering its own wisdom.

🌼 Your Turn

If you’re just starting, pick one plant — the one you always notice and the one ingredient you always return to. Let it guide you. Let it become part of your rhythm.

👇 I’d love to hear your story in the comments. Let’s learn from each other — plant by plant, jar by jar. There’s always more to explore when we slow down and listen to what nature (and our skin) is trying to say.

With warmth,
Kristina 🌿