So I dropped $200 on Ourself Daily Ritual because the marketing is *gorgeous* — all muted pastels and promises of “clinically proven” actives. Then I flipped the box over and caught it: a synthetic molecule hiding right behind the “clean” seal.
It’s not a scandal, but it’s the kind of blurry line that makes me side-eye the entire “clean” beauty movement. They’re banking on you not reading the fine print.
The Daily Ritual is a two-step system: a serum and a cream, $198 total. The pitch is “dermatologist-grade” without the “nasties.”
The Serum Drop
Feels like water going on, but it’s loaded with a peptide complex that’s supposed to mimic Botox—minus the needle.
The Ritual Cream
Thicker than I expected, but it sinks in before you can even grab your phone. Zero grease.
The ‘Clean’ Label
This is where it gets weird—they use a synthetic stabilizer that’s technically “nature-identical.” It’s not bad, just not the pure story they’re selling.
Photo: ibnu ihza / Unsplash
The hero is a 20% peptide blend, which is genuinely strong. They also threw in bakuchiol (a natural retinol alt) and some ceramides to patch the barrier. But the texture magic? That’s a silicone derivative—the very thing “clean” brands usually brag about excluding.
- Peptides: Plumps lines temporarily, like a facial in a bottle
- Bakuchiol: Smooths texture without the retinol purge
- Ceramides: They hold your skin together when it’s dry
- Dimethicone: The ‘synthetic’ that makes it feel luxurious
Photo: Alexandra Tran / Unsplash
First pump: the serum smells like a spa that ran out of essential oils—vaguely floral, but not annoying. It dries down in 30 seconds flat, which is elite for lazy mornings.
Two weeks in, the little “elevens” between my brows looked blurred. Not gone, but softer. Then I got a zit on my chin—which hasn’t happened since college—and the cream didn’t help it heal faster. That part felt overhyped.
Photo: Fleur Kaan / Unsplash
My skin looks calmer and the texture on my forehead is smoother. But the “instant lift” they advertise? That’s just the silicone doing its thing—it wears off by noon.
Photo: Rosa Rafael / Unsplash
I’d buy it again on a sale, but I wouldn’t tell you it’s “clean.” It’s a solid, well-made product that lies about its own DNA.