Thinking about Why – a personal perspective.

I’m Barbara, the MD and co-founder of Y natural skincare.

Last year, I took some time out to contemplate myself turning 60 and my business, which I started when nudging 40, has now been running over 20 years. In preparing the business for its next decade or two, I’m trying to get to the heart of what this all means in the world as it is now. I’m seeking the Why of Y, you could say, but in a very personal way. Why does Y still exist, into what has Y evolved, and what gives meaning and purpose as we look to the next 20 years? And what is my personal Why?

My co-founders stepped back from the business long ago, and it seems funny that I’m the one remaining – I was the one who started out with zero experience in the beauty industry and the least specific reason for being there. I just wanted to do something that would help make the world a little bit better than if I’d never existed. In contrast, my partners had long ties with the beauty industry, were passionate about it, and felt quite at home.

I was the fish out of water.

I was the geeky one.

I’d grown up beyond suburbia, either outdoors climbing trees or indoors with my head in the books. My first studies were for a BSc (in Geology, Zoology, Botany and Genetics) and Honours in the area of climate, a decade before climate really became ‘a thing’. I later studied towards a BA in Chinese, German, Spanish, philosophy, international politics… I also have an MBA, and in doing that, I really focused my efforts on subjects related to international business. I took up distance running during my first degree, chalked up a world championship in the early 90s, and have kept running to this day.

All in all, while I’m the consummate generalist, none of this pointed to a future in the beauty industry.

Instead, I started my career as a geophysicist in the oil and gas industry with hopes of being a change agent for a more environmentally conscious future, then worked in several other ‘blokey’ arenas like mathematics, telecommunications and commercialisation, that are all worlds away from being in the petrochemical-free, synthetic-free world of certified organic skincare. There are some random things too. Travelling in over fifty countries. Taking up stand-up comedy. My quest to find the world’s best almond croissant. Seven years as editor of South Australia’s Porche magazine. My niece insists I’m ADHD and maybe she’s right. But I digress.

I’m in the beauty industry.

We created Y natural to make – beautifully – the world’s best, most naturally beneficial skincare. We sought out the very best ingredients from the most ethical sources and operated in the most sustainable way possible. We focused on caring for people and their skin, educating and informing them, supporting communities, and ensuring our business would contribute to a better, kinder, safer and healthier future.

We have stayed true to this mission for over twenty years.

To do this ethically and authentically, I had to be across a plethora of issues – some local, some global. In a sense, I did the heavy lifting so our customers wouldn’t have to. I did what you would want to do, if only… If only you had more time, or more knowledge of science, or less pressure, or if only something else didn’t always get in the way. It was my job to do all the right things to give you confidence that choosing Y was a decision that reflected care for the issues that are important to you, while also helping you have beautiful, healthy skin. And I love that.

I do feel disenchanted, however. Twenty years immersed in the science and ethics of this industry is, shall we say, illuminating.

There are many reasons the Beauty Industry could better be named the Ugly Industry. And although it’s so strongly associated with women, most of the power-brokers in the industry are men. It’s an industry that deceives consumers and literally trains them to be dissatisfied with themselves, while largely dishing up cheap chemical soup that at best does little or nothing good, and at worst risks causing harm. The expensive brands are in most cases, no better than the cheap stuff. They just have prettier, more expensive, glossy pictures and fancy packaging.

The industry relies on a form of abuse, feeding women images they can never live up to. It feels rotten to me.

There are perfectly wonderful young girls and women who succumb to the pressure and manipulation placed upon them, believing themselves ugly or unworthy if they don’t measure up to the manufactured images they see in the media. And mature women, who’ve come to fear ageing, fear the passing of youth, rather than embracing the honour and privilege of reaching an age that far too many around the world don’t live to see.

I’m in that world, and it feels uncomfortable.

And here’s what hit me while I was putting my thoughts into written words.

Although there’s a growing public awareness around ingredients, avoiding cruelty to animals, and recognising unethical marketing practices, there’s still so much further to go and a real risk we may go backwards. Witness the developments over the past decade in the US as right wing governments strip back rights for women and minorities, and remove environmental protections. We can’t be confident of making progress when powerful forces are specifically working against that progress, and undoing it. They’ve even managed to turn the word ‘progressive’ into an insult, as if wanting to see a better, fairer world is for stupid people who don’t live in the real world.

However much has changed in the industry and in our world, MORE has changed in ME.

I’m no longer a fish out of water. I’m a fish in the water I’m meant to be in. All those strange, diverse interests and experiences mean I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Here. Now. Still. In the real world. Right when we can see that to be a woman in this world is in itself a political act.

The fights we thought were done and won in the sixties and seventies are not done and won at all.

Right now, I fear for the young women who will have to fight for rights we naïvely thought were here to stay. For an entire generation who will inherit a messed-up planet. I fear for the women of all ages who are relentlessly attacked by forces they don’t necessarily recognise or understand: in their workplaces, in the media, in their social groups, often in their own family and – most infuriatingly – sometimes within their own gender. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, there’s a special place in hell for them.

Many times I’ve described my life (and my mind!) as a giant bowl of tangled-up spaghetti. Tease those strands out though, one by one, and you might see that the ingredients come together to form something coherent — something a whole lot more purposeful than it seemed at first glance.

My reason for starting this business remains as valid as ever: to help make the world a better place. There’s still so much work to do, and now the stakes seem higher than ever.

And what I realise now is that I am meant to be here. This is my time. Everything I’ve done until now has been leading to this moment. This fish is in water, in waters – in organic, ethical, sciencey, healthy, businessy, politicky – and sometimes murky – but beautiful, international waters.

All these years of distance running made me strong. I know I don’t just have a second wind. I have a third, a fourth, and a fifth. I keep going when others would quit. That’s the thing about we distance runners. We have this strange optimism, an unyielding belief that the next step, the next breath, will carry us through the pain, the discomfort, the blisters, the chafing, the wind, the rain or the heat. We keep going, even if we can’t see the finish line.

I might be 20+ years in, but in a way that really matters, I’m just getting started. And I will go the distance.