Ingredient Desk

Category: Ingredient Analysis

  • Hempz “Calming Magnesium” Lotion: Magnesium Is the 16th Ingredient

    Hempz Beauty Actives Serene Waters is sold as a “Soothing & Relaxing Magnesium Body Lotion,” but on its own INCI list the magnesium — listed as Magnesium Sulfate, which is Epsom salt — appears at position 16, below water, two silicone-and-emollient skin-feel agents, fragrance and eleven others. The name is on the front; the mineral is well down the back.

    Walk any drugstore body-lotion aisle and one bottle keeps its promise right in the product name: Hempz Beauty Actives Serene Waters Body Moisturizer with Magnesium, 17 fl oz for around $19.99. The brand subtitles it “Soothing & Relaxing Magnesium Body Lotion” and calls out “Magnesium & Arnica” as the key ingredients that “help replenish moisture and soothe.” Magnesium lotion for calm is having a moment — NPR covered the trend in September 2025 and cited one estimate putting the 2024 topical-magnesium market north of $400 million. So it is a fair question to ask the label: where is the magnesium, actually?

    Nib, a small round pencil-sketched creature with a magnifier loupe pushed up on his head, holds an unlabeled tub in both hands, looking bright and eager to read it.
    Nib picks up another bottle promising something on the front. Time to turn it around.

    What does the Serene Waters ingredient list actually say?

    Here is the full INCI list, quoted verbatim. Source: the Ulta product listing for Serene Waters Body Moisturizer with Magnesium (ulta.com), page fetched 2026-09-22. The same list appears on the brand’s own hempz.com page and the major-retailer listing — three sources in agreement.

    Water/Aqua/Eau, Isopropyl Palmitate, Butylene Glycol, Propanediol, Fragrance (Parfum), Cetyl Alcohol, Glycerin, Dimethicone, Sorbitan Stearate, Butyrospermum Parkii (Shea) Butter, Stearic Acid, Glyceryl Stearate, PEG-100 Stearate, Cetearyl Alcohol, Cannabis Sativa Seed Oil, Magnesium Sulfate, Lavandula Angustifolia (Lavender) Oil, Aloe Barbadensis Leaf Juice, Panthenol, Arnica Montana Flower Extract, Phenoxyethanol, Polysorbate 40, Aminomethyl Propanol, Acrylates/C10-30 Alkyl Acrylate Crosspolymer, Nylon-12, Xanthan Gum, Ethylhexylglycerin, Chlorphenesin, Hexamethylindanopyran, Trisodium Ethylenediamine Disuccinate, Tetramethyl Acetyloctahydronaphthalenes, Linalyl Acetate, Hydroxycitronellal, Geranyl Acetate, Pinene, Alpha-Isomethyl Ionone, Terpineol, Citral, Isoeugenyl Acetate, Ascorbic Acid, Calcium Pantothenate, Potassium Chloride, Tocopheryl Acetate, Citric Acid, Potassium Sorbate, Benzoic Acid, Sodium Benzoate, Sorbic Acid, Rose Ketones, Linalool, Limonene.

    INCI lists are ordered by concentration down to 1%, so position is a rough proxy for how much of something is in the pot. Count from the top and the marketed hero, Magnesium Sulfate, lands at position 16. Everything above it — the water base, isopropyl palmitate and the glycols, the fragrance, cetyl alcohol, glycerin, dimethicone, the shea and the emulsifier stack — is present in greater quantity than the magnesium the bottle is named after.

    Nib holds a glass jar with a small handwritten label of squiggly text, his eyes half-lidded and mouth flat with skeptical, unimpressed suspicion.
    “Calming magnesium,” says the front. Nib has learned to be suspicious of a front.

    Where does the magnesium actually sit — and what is it?

    Two details are worth saying plainly. First, the magnesium here is Magnesium Sulfate, which is the chemical name for Epsom salt — the same compound sold as a bath soak for a few dollars a bag. It is not a novel, patented, better-absorbed form of magnesium. Second, it is listed at position 16, one slot below Cannabis Sativa Seed Oil (the hemp-seed oil the brand is known for) and above Lavender Oil and the preservatives.

    The other headlined active, Arnica Montana Flower Extract, is called out on the product page as a key ingredient too. It appears at position 20 — four spots behind the magnesium, and behind the preservative-and-thickener machinery that makes a lotion a lotion. Both of the actives on the front of the bottle are deep in the second half of the list.

    This is the whole trick of reading an INCI list: the front of the bottle chooses the story, and the back of the bottle tells you the order. When the two disagree, the order is the one with the receipts.

    Nib peers through a round magnifying loupe flipped down over one eye, which looms hugely through the lens, scrutinizing a tall glass jar covered in tiny handwritten label text.
    The magnifying glass comes out. On an INCI list, order is everything, and the small print is the whole story.

    Does magnesium at position 16 even matter for absorption?

    Here is where the label question meets the evidence question, and honestly the evidence is thin either way. The idea behind “calming” magnesium lotion is that magnesium crosses the skin and does something systemic — relaxation, sleep, sore muscles. The published record does not really support that.

    The outermost skin layer, the stratum corneum, is oily and repels water-loving, charged molecules. Magnesium in solution is an ion (Mg²⁺), and in its hydrated form it is bulky and struggles to passively diffuse through intact skin. A 2017 review in Nutrients (Gröber et al., “Myth or Reality—Transdermal Magnesium?”, DOI: 10.3390/nu9080813, PMC5579607) concluded that the case for transdermal magnesium is, in their words, scientifically unsupported, with hair follicles and sweat glands — roughly 0.1–1% of the skin’s surface — as the only real route in.

    Even the most favorable human trial is small. A 2017 pilot RCT in PLoS ONE (Kass et al., DOI: 10.1371/journal.pone.0174817) tested a 56 mg/day magnesium cream in 25 people over two weeks and found no statistically significant change in serum or urinary magnesium for the group as a whole (p = 0.29 for serum). Only a subgroup reached significance, and the authors themselves called it a pilot that needs replication at higher doses. When NPR covered the trend, dermatologist Nicholas Theodosakis put the main risk succinctly: except in the pocketbook.

    None of that means the lotion is bad at being a lotion — there is glycerin, shea butter and dimethicone up top, and those genuinely moisturize. It means the specific promise the name leans on, magnesium doing something calming through your skin, rests on small and mostly non-significant studies. If you want a fuller walk-through of that literature, Evil Goods (the team behind this site — we say so openly) collected it here: Does Magnesium Lotion Work?, on the Evil Goods blog.

    Nib sits at a small wooden desk with a pencil, mouth open in an 'o' of dismay as an enormous paper ingredient list unspools off the desk and coils into a spiral on the floor.
    The list runs on and on. The hero of the label finally turns up at position number sixteen.

    How should you read a “magnesium” lotion label?

    You do not need a chemistry degree, just a rule: find the hero ingredient from the front of the bottle in the list on the back, and see how far down it is. Anything named a “magnesium lotion,” “vitamin C serum” or “retinol cream” is making a claim you can check against its own INCI in ten seconds.

    The name on the front
    Serene Waters “Soothing & Relaxing Magnesium Body Lotion” — magnesium and arnica marketed as the key ingredients.
    The magnesium on the back
    Magnesium Sulfate (Epsom salt), position 16 of ~49, below fragrance, dimethicone and the emollient stack.
    The second active on the back
    Arnica Montana Flower Extract, position 20, behind the preservatives.
    The evidence
    Transdermal magnesium absorption is supported mainly by small, mostly non-significant pilot studies; a 2017 review called it scientifically unsupported.
    Marketed hero INCI name List position What that suggests
    Magnesium Magnesium Sulfate 16 of ~49 Present, but below the base, fragrance, silicone and shea
    Arnica Arnica Montana Flower Extract 20 of ~49 Below magnesium and the preservative system
    Hemp seed oil Cannabis Sativa Seed Oil 15 of ~49 Just ahead of the magnesium it shares the label with

    For reference, if you want the mineral itself and nothing else, a bag of Epsom salt in a warm bath is the same compound as the “magnesium” in this lotion, for a fraction of the price — and it makes no claim about crossing your skin. If you specifically want a tallow-based balm that names magnesium sulfate on its own label, Evil Goods makes one: the Grass-Fed Tallow Magnesium Balm (that is ours). We would rather you know what any of them can and can’t do than pick by the front of the jar.

    Nib tips a small glass jar upside down over a spoon, deadpan and half-lidded, as a single drop drips out — a dry visual joke about how little of the promised ingredient is really there.
    How much magnesium actually made it into the pot? The list puts it below fragrance, silicone and thirteen other things.

  • Tree Hut Shea Sugar Scrub: Where the Shea Actually Sits on the Label

    In Tree Hut’s Shea Sugar Scrub, shea butter is never the main event. It sits at position 7 of 22 in Moroccan Rose, position 5 of 30 in the best-selling Vanilla, position 10 of 28 in Strawberry, and — if a 2021-indexed listing is current — as far down as position 20 in Palm Grove. In every version the list opens with sucrose, then glycerin, then polysorbate 20 — all ahead of the shea. It is a sugar scrub with shea as a supporting fat, not a shea product with sugar added.

    Tree Hut’s Shea Sugar Scrub is, by review count, one of the most-bought body scrubs in America — the Vanilla 18oz jar alone carries 172,825 reviews at 4.8 stars (Amazon, data through June 2026 via asinsight.com). The word “Shea” is on the front of every jar. So it is worth doing the one thing the packaging quietly discourages: reading the ingredient list on the back, in order, and finding where the shea actually is.

    INCI lists are ordered by descending concentration down to 1%; below that, order is unregulated. So a high position means “more of this than the things below it,” and a low one means “less.” That is all we can read off the label — never an exact percentage — but it is enough to see whether a hero ingredient is really the hero.

    Where does the shea sit in Moroccan Rose?

    The cleanest example to start with is Moroccan Rose, because two independent sources reproduce its list identically. Here it is verbatim, from the brand’s own product page (treehutshea.com/products/moroccan-rose-shea-sugar-scrub, fetched 2026-09-21, HTTP 200), corroborated exactly by an independent review site (dermapproved.com, published 2026-04-13):

    Sucrose, Glycerin, Polysorbate 20, Silica, Rosa Canina Fruit Oil, Argania Spinosa Kernel Oil, Butyrospermum Parkii (Shea) Butter, Persea Gratissima (Avocado) Oil, Carthamus Tinctorius (Safflower) Seed Oil, Citrus Aurantium Dulcis (Orange) Oil, Macadamia Ternifolia Seed Oil, Oenothera Biennis (Evening Primrose) Oil, Prunus Amygdalus Dulcis (Sweet Almond) Oil, Aqua (Water/Eau), Caprylyl Glycol, Ascorbic Acid, Retinyl Palmitate, Phenoxyethanol, Sorbic Acid, Red 4 (CI 14700), Blue 1 (CI 42090), Parfum (Fragrance)

    Shea is ingredient number seven of twenty-two. Above it, in order: sugar, glycerin, a synthetic emulsifier, silica, and then two “premium” specialty oils — rosehip (Rosa Canina) and argan (Argania Spinosa) — that this scent leans on in its marketing. Those two oils are exactly what pushes the shea from the fifth slot it holds in plainer scents down to seventh here. The scent’s selling points sit in front of the ingredient the whole line is named after.

    Nib, a small round pencil-sketch creature, peers through a magnifying glass at a tall jar of Shea Sugar Scrub, tracing a finger down the ingredient list on the back.
    Nib does the thing the front of the jar hopes you won’t: reads the back, in order.

    Does shea’s position change by scent?

    Yes — and that is the interesting part. The shea itself is presumably dosed the same; what changes is the oil blend that gets slotted in ahead of it. Here is where verified shea lands across four variants, with sources dated in the notes below the table.

    Variant Shea position Total INCI count Fragrance position
    Vanilla (best-seller) 5 30 21
    Moroccan Rose 7 22 22 (last)
    Strawberry 10 28 18
    Palm Grove (see caveat) 20 ~37 5

    Sources: Vanilla — incidecoder.com/products/tree-hut-vanilla-shea-sugar-scrub, corroborated by a major retailer’s product listing (read 2026-09-21). Moroccan Rose — brand page + dermapproved.com, as above. Strawberry — treehutshea.com/products/strawberry-shea-sugar-scrub, via search result 2026-09-21. Palm Grove — a brand-site listing indexed as far back as 2021 and retrieved only via a search snippet, so I treat it as unconfirmed; the brand’s own disclaimer says its “ingredient lists are updated regularly,” which is a fair warning to take literally.

    Read the best-seller charitably and the story softens: in Vanilla, shea is fifth, which is genuinely fairly early. But sugar, glycerin, polysorbate 20 and silica still all outrank it. Even in the most shea-forward scent Tree Hut sells, sugar, glycerin, an emulsifier and silica all come first, and shea is the only conditioning fat among that leading group.

    Nib holds up two labelled ingredient cards, a big one reading Sugar towering over a much smaller one reading Shea, weighing them on a set of pencil-drawn scales.
    By mass, the sugar wins in every scent. Shea’s exact rank is a scent decision.

    What is polysorbate 20 doing at number three?

    Setting aside the sugar and glycerin, the ingredient that outranks shea in every single scent is polysorbate 20. It is a synthetic emulsifier: its job is to keep the oil blend dispersed through the wet sugar so the jar does not separate into a slick and a sludge. It is not there to condition your skin.

    That is not the same as calling it a problem. The Cosmetic Ingredient Review panel — an industry-funded body, worth naming as such — concluded polysorbates are “safe as used” across rinse-off formulations, assessed to concentrations as high as 19.6% (CIR Safety Assessment of Polysorbates, 2015). The honest read is narrow and specific: polysorbate 20 is a functional, well-tolerated emulsifier that happens to be present in higher concentration than the shea butter in every variant we checked. Not a villain. Just not the thing on the label either.

    Nib inspects a bottle labelled Parfum that has quietly cut ahead of a queue of oil bottles waiting in line, looking mildly surprised at the queue-jumper.
    In the Palm Grove listing, Fragrance appears to queue-jump ahead of every oil — if that list is current.

    Should the named fragrance allergens worry you?

    Two of the scents spell out individual fragrance allergens as separate INCI entries — an EU labelling practice that kicks in above 0.01% in rinse-off products. Strawberry names Linalool, Geraniol, Benzyl Alcohol and Limonene; the Palm Grove listing names Linalool, Limonene, Hydroxycitronellal and Hexyl Cinnamal. Phenoxyethanol, a preservative, appears in all of them.

    Here the site’s usual honesty applies: this is a real but modest signal, not a scare. The American Contact Dermatitis Society added linalool and limonene to its 2020 Core Allergen Series, and estimates that “3.5% to 4.5% of the adult population and 20% of the patch-tested population may be allergic to one or more fragrances” (ACDS Core Allergen Series, 2020). A 2024 review in PMC adds the mechanism that matters: sensitisation is not instant — it “requires sufficient repeated exposure,” and it is the oxidised hydroperoxides of linalool and limonene, not the fresh molecules, that most often provoke a reaction (Fragrance Contact Allergy: A Review Focusing on Patch Testing, 2024). The most current dermatology literature keeps fragrances, preservatives and surfactants at the top of the personal-care-allergen list (JAAD, 2026, PubMed abstract). So: if you patch-test positive to fragrance, a scented sugar scrub is a reasonable thing to skip. If you don’t, the presence of a named allergen on the label is information, not a verdict.

    Nib sets down the magnifying glass and jots a short honest note on a pad that reads sugar first, shea seventh, looking pleased rather than outraged.
    The finding is small and checkable: sugar first, shea somewhere in the middle.

    What if you want a fat that isn’t buried in an oil blend?

    The whole reason “Shea Sugar Scrub” sells is the promise of a rich conditioning fat. If that is what you are actually after, the label is telling you something useful: in this product the fat is one line item among a dozen oils, emulsified into a sugar base, and it is out-ranked by the emulsifier that holds it there. That is a fine thing for a rinse-off exfoliant to be. It is a poor thing to buy as a moisturiser.

    A different design choice is to start from the fat and stop. Our own team at Evil Goods makes a beef tallow moisturizer (this site is published by the Evil Goods team, so treat that as ours, not a neutral recommendation) built around a conditioning fat on its own rather than an isolated oil suspended in polysorbate. We mention it because it is the honest opposite of the structure on this label — not because a body scrub and a leave-on moisturiser do the same job. A sugar scrub is for scrubbing; a fat is for staying on the skin. Pick the one that matches what you came for.

    The short version

    Sucrose (sugar)
    Ingredient #1 in every scent. This is what does the exfoliating. It is a sugar scrub first.
    Glycerin
    Always #2. A cheap, effective humectant, more concentrated than shea everywhere.
    Polysorbate 20
    Always #3. A synthetic emulsifier holding the oils in place; “safe as used” per CIR, but out-ranks the shea.
    Shea (Butyrospermum Parkii) Butter
    Ranges from #5 (Vanilla) to a possible #20 (Palm Grove). Its exact rank is a scent decision, driven by which oils go in ahead of it.

    None of this makes Tree Hut’s scrub a bad product. It makes it a well-selling sugar scrub with a conditioning fat in a supporting role — which is a perfectly reasonable thing to be, and not quite what the name on the jar implies.

    Nib closes the jar, tucks the pencil behind an ear and gives a small satisfied wave, the finished note pinned up behind reading read the label, in order.
    Nib’s whole method, in four words: read the label, in order.

  • Lume Cream Deodorant: Mandelic Acid Is Position 2 — But Two Numbers Aren’t on the Label

    On Lume’s Whole Body Deodorant Invisible Cream (scented), mandelic acid is the second ingredient — right after water and ahead of everything else. So the marketed hero is not buried; it is genuinely near the top. What the label will not tell you is the two numbers that decide whether that matters: the actual percentage of mandelic acid, and the finished pH. Both are absent from the box, and both are what published research says the outcome hinges on.

    This is the site’s usual game — read the label, find where the star ingredient really sits — but Lume plays it back at us. Most “read the label” stories end with the hero ingredient hiding near the preservatives. Here it doesn’t. Mandelic acid is position 2. The interesting part is everything the ingredient order still can’t tell you.

    Where does mandelic acid actually sit on the label?

    Here is the full list, quoted verbatim from Lume’s own ingredients page for the scented Invisible Cream, read on 18 September 2026:

    Water, Mandelic Acid, Maranta Arundinacea Root Powder, Tapioca Starch, Isoamyl Laurate, Hydroxypropyl Starch Phosphate, Cetearyl Alcohol, Caffeine, Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride, Behenyl Alcohol, Hydrogenated Castor Oil, Fragrance, Aloe Barbadensis Leaf Juice, Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Seed Butter, Floral Pyranol, Tocopherol, Allantoin, Panthenol, Sandalrome, Stearyl Alcohol, Dimethicone, Cetearyl Glucoside, Pentylene Glycol, Phenylpropanol, Potassium Hydroxide, Dipropylene Glycol, Sodium Benzoate, Tetrasodium Glutamate Diacetate

    Source: lumedeodorant.com/ingredients (the unscented cream drops Fragrance, Floral Pyranol and Sandalrome; every other position is the same). Lume’s own page adds the caveat that the packaging is the authoritative list, so I’m analysing the scented tube exactly as published and naming it as such.

    Ingredient lists in the US run in descending order of concentration down to 1%, after which order stops being required. Mandelic acid at position 2 sits well above that 1% floor, so it is present at a meaningful level — this is not the squalane-after-the-preservative trick. What follows are the cheap absorbent starches that give almost every “natural” deodorant its body — arrowroot powder and tapioca starch back to back, then a modified starch phosphate a few slots later. Under those, fatty alcohols and emollient esters. It’s a competent, ordinary natural-deodorant base built around one acid.

    Nib the round desk creature holding a magnifying glass over a deodorant tube, squinting at the ingredient list on the back.
    Nib finds mandelic acid sitting right at the top of the list — and then starts wondering what the list doesn’t say.

    What can’t you read from the position alone?

    Two things, and they’re the two that matter most.

    The percentage. Position 2 tells you mandelic acid beats every ingredient except water. It doesn’t tell you whether that’s 3% or 12%. In the published work on mandelic acid’s antimicrobial activity, concentration is the whole story. A 2023 study of mandelic-acid hand gels (Łobacz et al., Int J Mol Sci) found the inhibition zones against odour-associated bacteria grew with dose — 10% did markedly more than 5%. A companion paper measuring the minimum inhibitory concentration (Szponar et al., Int J Mol Sci) put the MIC against Staphylococcus aureus near 0.175% in a test tube. So the bar to “does something” is low, but the effect keeps climbing with dose — and the label puts Lume’s number somewhere inside a very wide range you can’t see.

    What the label confirms
    Mandelic acid is the highest-concentration functional ingredient, present above 1%.
    What the label hides
    The exact percentage — the single figure the published dose-response work turns on.
    What the label hides
    The finished pH — which decides how much of that acid is in its active form.
    Nib holding up a blank sheet marked with a percent sign and a question mark, shrugging, because no number is printed on it.
    The one figure that would settle the whole question — the concentration — is the one the label never prints.

    Why does the potassium hydroxide near the end matter?

    Second number: pH. An alpha hydroxy acid like mandelic acid only stays in its active, un-neutralised form in an acidic formula. Mandelic acid’s pKa is about 3.4, so at a pH around 3.5–4.0 most of it stays acidic; push the pH up and more of it converts to potassium mandelate, the salt. That conversion isn’t cosmetic: in the MIC paper above, the potassium salt was a weaker antimicrobial than the free acid.

    Now look at position 25: Potassium Hydroxide. KOH is a base — it’s there to raise pH. That confirms the formula is being pH-adjusted, but not to what. Lume’s help pages describe a pH in the 3.5–4.0 range, which would keep most of the acid active if accurate; that figure isn’t printed on the box and a shopper can’t verify it. So the label confirms pH-tuning is happening and leaves you to trust the direction.

    Nib with a small pH strip and a pencil, tapping a bottle of potassium hydroxide, working out the acidity math.
    Potassium hydroxide near the end of the list is the pH dial. Which way it’s turned, you can’t read from the box.

    What about the 72-hour claim and the caffeine?

    Lume’s headline has long been a clinically-tested 72-hour odour-control claim. The testing behind it was run by Princeton Consumer Research, a third-party consumer-testing centre, on a panel of women — a consumer study, not a peer-reviewed publication, and Lume’s own help page clarifies that 72-hour control doesn’t mean zero odour for 72 hours. That framing was challenged in Nelson v. Lume Deodorant, LLC (E.D.N.Y., 2023), which argued the study showed superiority over competitors rather than absolute all-day performance and that the samples weren’t large or diverse enough. That case was voluntarily dismissed with prejudice on 13 December 2023 — the plaintiff walked away, which is not a ruling either way. Separate 2025 suits naming Lume have since been reported; none has a certified class, and all allegations remain unproven. I’m pointing at the record, not the verdict.

    There’s a regulatory reason a clinical-test claim reads differently here than on, say, a sunscreen. A mandelic-acid deodorant is a cosmetic; an aluminium-based antiperspirant is an OTC drug under the FDA’s antiperspirant monograph. Cosmetic claims don’t carry the drug-level substantiation bar, so a clinical-test claim on a deodorant means whatever the brand’s own testing says it means. The caffeine at position 8 is its own small puzzle: it has vasoconstrictive properties but no published mechanism for controlling underarm odour, and Lume’s materials don’t explain what it’s doing there. Read it as a label ingredient until someone shows otherwise.

    Nib pinching a nose over an open scent bottle, a small cloud of fragrance drawn rising from an underarm sketch nearby.
    Fragrance sits mid-list, and the underarm is a tender spot for the fragrance-sensitised few — though the label won’t say which allergens are in it.

    Is the fragrance worth a second look?

    The scented cream lists “Fragrance” at position 12, plus two named synthetic fragrance molecules further down (Floral Pyranol and Sandalrome). The underarm is one of the more reactive spots for fragrance contact allergy: a classic provocation study using deodorants (Johansen et al., J Am Acad Dermatol, 2003) showed that fragrance allergens at everyday concentrations could provoke axillary dermatitis in already-sensitised people within weeks, and the EU’s scientific committee has documented deodorants as a common trigger in fragrance-sensitive patients (SCCP opinion on fragrance allergy). That’s a risk for the fragrance-sensitised minority, not everyone — and “Fragrance” as an umbrella term means the specific allergens in this cream aren’t disclosed, so I can’t tell you which are present. The unscented cream sidesteps the whole question by leaving fragrance out.

    So what would a simpler label look like?

    If the appeal of Lume is “fewer moving parts than an antiperspirant,” it’s worth seeing what a genuinely short list reads like. Our own tallow deodorant — Ingredient Desk is published by the team behind Evil Goods, and I’ll always say so — is a tallow-based aluminium-free deodorant whose named ingredients you can count on one hand. I won’t quote a fixed number, because the site’s own copy isn’t fully consistent yet and I’d rather name ingredients than count them; the point isn’t that it’s better at odour control — that would need its own testing — but that a shorter, named list gives a reader less to wonder about. Lume’s list isn’t sinister; it’s just long, and two of the numbers that would let you judge it aren’t on the box.

    The honest summary

    Mandelic acid at position 2 is a real, near-the-top inclusion — credit where it’s due, no burial here. The formula’s bulk is water, starch-family absorbers and fatty alcohols: a standard natural-deodorant base, not a house of horrors. The fair critique isn’t “this is bad,” it’s “the label can’t answer the two questions that decide whether the hero ingredient is working” — its percentage and the finished pH — and the flagship clinically-tested 72-hour claim rests on a consumer panel that was pointed enough to draw a lawsuit before the plaintiff dropped it. Read the label, note what’s missing, and keep your expectations sized to what’s actually disclosed.

    Nib closing a notebook and giving a small satisfied nod, magnifying glass set down, the reviewed tube standing beside a tidy desk lamp.
    Nib’s verdict: not a buried hero, not a sinister formula — just a label that stops short of the two numbers that would answer the question.

  • Drunk Elephant Protini: The 9 Peptides Are #10–18. Then Come 10 Amino Acids.

    Drunk Elephant Protini is named for polypeptides and
    marketed on “nine signal peptides.” On the ingredient list, those nine
    peptides sit together at positions #10 through #18 — genuinely mid-list, not
    buried at the bottom. The catch is not where they sit. It is what comes right
    after them: ten individual amino acids at positions #19 through #28, which the
    brand groups under the same peptide-complex language. An amino acid is not a
    peptide; it is what a peptide is made of. Those are different things.

    Most of the labels we read here end with the marketed hero hiding somewhere
    below the preservatives — retinol at #26, hyaluronic acid at #25. Protini is
    the opposite case, and that is exactly what makes it interesting. Drunk Elephant
    put its nine peptides where you would hope to find them, in one tidy block near
    the top of the list. So the usual gotcha does not apply. The interesting
    questions are different: what are those nine peptides, does the research support
    what they are named for, and what is that long run of ingredients that follows?

    Nib, a small round pencil-sketch creature, holds a magnifying glass to a jar of moisturizer whose front reads Polypeptide, then peers past it at a long ingredient list running down the side.
    Named for polypeptides. Nib turns the jar around to find where the nine actually live.

    Where do the nine signal peptides actually sit?

    Here is the full list, quoted verbatim as it appears on the product page at
    Ulta.com,
    fetched 16 September 2026 (item #2588434). The list on the product’s page at
    a second major beauty retailer, read the same week, is identical word for word,
    down to the spacing.

    Water/Aqua/Eau, Dicaprylyl Carbonate, Glycerin, Cetearyl Alcohol, Cetearyl Olivate, Sorbitan Olivate, Sclerocarya Birrea Seed Oil, Bacillus/ Folic Acid Ferment Filtrate Extract, Nymphaea Alba Root Extract, sh-Oligopeptide-1, sh-Oligopeptide-2, sh-Polypeptide-1, sh-Polypeptide-9, sh-Polypeptide-11, Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14, Heptapeptide-15 Palmitate, Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7, Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1, Alanine, Arginine, Glycine, Histidine, Isoleucine, Phenylalanine, Proline, Serine, Threonine, Valine, Acetyl Glutamine, Coconut Alkanes, Coco-Caprylate/Caprate, Sodium Hyaluronate, Aspartic Acid, Linoleic Acid, Linolenic Acid, Lecithin, Butylene Glycol, Polyvinyl Alcohol, Sodium Lactate, Sodium PCA, PCA, Sorbitan Isostearate, Carbomer, Polysorbate 20, Polysorbate 60, Lactic Acid/Glycolic Acid Copolymer, Hydroxyethyl Acrylate/Sodium Acryloyldimethyl Taurate Copolymer, Xanthan Gum, Isomalt, 1,2-Hexanediol, Caprylyl Glycol, Chlorphenesin, Phenoxyethanol, Tocopherol, Sodium Benzoate, Phenylpropanol, Glyceryl Caprylate, Symphytum Officinale Callus Culture Extract.

    The nine peptides the product is named after run from
    sh-Oligopeptide-1 at position #10 to
    Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1 at position #18 — nine names in an
    unbroken block. Above them are eight ingredients that are none of them a peptide:
    water, an emollient ester, glycerin, two fatty-alcohol emulsifiers, a pair of
    olive-derived emulsifiers, marula oil, and two ferment extracts. On an ingredient
    list, where things are ordered roughly by weight down to about the 1% mark, that
    puts the peptide block mid-list rather than at the top. Not hidden, not headline.
    Somewhere in the honest middle.

    Marketed hero
    Nine “signal peptides”
    Position on label
    #10 through #18, one contiguous block
    What sits above them
    Eight ingredients, none a peptide
    Ingredients on the label
    Fifty-eight
    Source of list
    Ulta.com (fetched 16 Sep 2026) and a second major retailer, same week — identical

    So this is not a “the hero is at #26” story. Credit where it is
    due: the peptides are real and reasonably placed. The story is what they are, and
    whether the research backs the word on the front of the jar.

    Nib runs a pencil down a numbered column and rests it on a tight block of nine little peptide tags clustered together between positions ten and eighteen.
    The nine signal peptides sit together at positions ten through eighteen – mid-list, not buried.

    Do the peptides do what the name promises?

    Five of the nine — the sh-Oligopeptide and sh-Polypeptide entries at
    positions #10 through #14 — are cosmetic-grade analogs of growth factors.
    sh-Oligopeptide-1, at #10, is the INCI name for a synthetic epidermal growth
    factor analog. This is where the evidence gets thin, and it is worth being
    precise about how thin.

    A 2023 review in Cutaneous and Ocular Toxicology looked specifically
    at topical sh-oligopeptide-1 and concluded that its preclinical bioactivity as a
    functional growth factor has not been demonstrated, meaning clinical trials that
    treat it as equivalent to functional recombinant growth factor may not rest on a
    valid foundation (Martínez-Carpio,
    2023, PubMed    ). That is an evidence-quality critique, not a safety alarm: the
    question is whether the molecule does the job it is named for, not whether it is
    harmful.

    Zoom out to the whole category and the picture is consistent. A systematic
    review of topical growth-factor preparations — 33 studies, nine randomized
    controlled trials, 1,180 participants — found modest improvements in
    texture and fine lines versus baseline, with three of the comparative RCTs showing
    no statistically significant difference between treatments, and the studies
    limited by heterogeneity and weak placebo controls
    (Quinlan et al.,
    Journal of Cosmetic Dermatology, 2023, PubMed    ). Modest and inconsistent is
    the honest reading — not dismissal, not endorsement.

    The last two of the nine are a different, better story. Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7
    and Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1, at #17 and #18, are the two peptides marketed together
    as Matrixyl 3000. A 45-person randomized, placebo-controlled study reported around
    52% wrinkle reduction over twelve weeks — better evidence than the growth
    factor peptides above them, though the trial was manufacturer-commissioned and the
    two peptides are always tested as a pair, so the data cannot separate them
    (peptidings.com,
    2026    ). So within the nine, the picture is mixed: the two at the bottom of the
    block have the most credible support, and the five growth-factor analogs above
    them the least.

    What is that long run of ingredients after the peptides?

    This is the part of the label worth reading slowly. Directly below the nine
    peptides, positions #19 through #28 are ten individual amino acids in a row:
    alanine, arginine, glycine, histidine, isoleucine, phenylalanine, proline, serine,
    threonine and valine, with acetyl glutamine at #29. Drunk Elephant groups these
    under the same “Signal Peptide Complex” language it uses for the
    peptides — but they are not peptides.

    Nib stands beside a neat row of ten identical amino-acid blocks, counting them on stubby fingers, with a small sign above the row reading not peptides.
    Then ten single amino acids in a row. An amino acid is what a peptide is made of, not a peptide.

    The distinction matters and it is not pedantry. A peptide is two or more amino
    acids joined by a peptide bond; that bond is what lets it act as a signal. A free
    amino acid on its own is the raw material, not the assembled thing. The ten listed
    here are among the cheapest commodity inputs in a cosmetic chemist’s cabinet,
    and they do a real, modest job as surface humectants — they are Natural
    Moisturizing Factor components, the same molecules your skin already uses to hold
    water. That is fine. What is worth noticing is the effect on the label: the
    peptide-and-amino-acid run stretches from position #10 all the way to #29, twenty
    consecutive entries, which reads as a peptide powerhouse when read for length.
    Ten of those twenty are single amino acids.

    Label positions What sits there What the position implies
    1–9 Water, emollients, emulsifiers, marula oil, two ferments The base and texture — none of them a peptide
    10–14 Five growth-factor analogs (sh-Oligo/Polypeptides) Real peptides, mid-list; cosmetic bioactivity contested
    15–16 Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14, Heptapeptide-15 Palmitate Copper peptide plus a palmitoylated heptapeptide
    17–18 Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7, Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1 Matrixyl 3000 pair — best-studied of the nine
    19–29 Ten amino acids + acetyl glutamine Cheap humectants; not peptides
    32 Sodium Hyaluronate Below the whole peptide/amino-acid block

    To be fair to the formula: none of this is deceptive on the label itself. The
    list is honest and complete. It is the marketing language wrapped around it —
    counting ten amino acids toward the impression of a peptide complex — that a
    slow read pulls apart.

    Nib holds up two copper coins side by side - one large and dented and labelled old, one small and shiny and labelled new - comparing them through the magnifying glass.
    Two different copper peptides. The one here is the newer, less-studied cousin of the classic GHK-Cu.

    Is the copper peptide in here the one with the research behind it?

    At position #15 is Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14 — a copper-bearing
    peptide. It is easy to assume this is the copper peptide with the long research
    record. It is not. The copper peptide that has been studied since the 1970s is
    Copper Tripeptide-1, better known as GHK-Cu. Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14 is a
    newer, oil-soluble variant marketed on superior delivery, but with a much shorter
    research history. GHK-Cu has been studied since the 1970s across many independent
    papers; Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14 is the payload peptide in a newer
    encapsulated delivery system (trade-named X50), and the evidence cited for it is a
    single 30-person, 28-day manufacturer in-vivo test rather than a body of
    independent work (INCIDecoder,
    Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14    ). Neither is a bad ingredient. They are just
    not the same molecule, and the older one is the one with the deeper record.

    That contrast is worth flagging because we make a copper peptide product and it
    uses the other one. Evil Goods’
    Copper
    Peptide Blue Honey Cream (our product)     is built on Copper Tripeptide-1
    — the GHK-Cu with the longer research record — alongside Manuka honey,
    niacinamide and olive squalane. It is the same product format, a cream rather than
    a serum, which makes it the fair thing to compare against here. In the interest of
    the same scrutiny we just applied to Protini: Evil Goods does not publish a copper
    concentration for ours, so we cannot tell you how much is in there any more than
    Drunk Elephant can tell you about its nine peptides. Ingredient Desk is published
    by the team behind Evil Goods, so read our comparisons knowing that.

    What about the clinical study on the box, and the last ingredient?

    Drunk Elephant’s marketing cites a study: 31 people, eight weeks, with
    high percentages reporting improvement in tone, texture and hydration. A couple of
    points are worth knowing before you weigh those numbers. It does not appear to be
    peer-reviewed — no published paper turns up — and at 31 participants
    with no control arm described, it is the kind of small brand-commissioned consumer
    panel that is prone to the assessment bias these trials are known for. That does
    not make it invalid; it simply cannot be verified, so treat the figures as
    in-house marketing data rather than independent evidence.

    One last note for the completists. The final ingredient on the list is Symphytum
    Officinale Callus Culture Extract — comfrey, but specifically the plant-cell
    callus culture form, which is produced to minimize the pyrrolizidine alkaloids
    that are the usual concern with comfrey root and leaf. At the very bottom of a
    long list, present in trace amount, in the callus form: there is nothing
    here to raise an eyebrow at. We mention it only because a reader scanning the
    label for “comfrey” deserves to know which comfrey it is.

    So is it worth it?

    On its own terms, Protini is a more honest label than most we read. The nine
    peptides are real and mid-list, not buried. Two of them are genuinely
    well-supported. The open questions are the five growth-factor analogs, whose
    cosmetic activity the research does not yet back; the ten amino acids counted
    toward the peptide story that are not peptides; and a copper peptide that is the
    newer, less-studied cousin of the classic one. If you like the texture and go in
    understanding that “nine signal peptides” is a mixed bag rather than
    nine proven actives, it is a defensible cream at its price. Just read it as what
    the label says, not what the front of the jar implies.

    FAQ

    Where do the peptides sit in Drunk Elephant Protini?
    The nine marketed signal peptides run from position #10 to #18 in one block,
    below eight ingredients that are not peptides. That is mid-list — not buried,
    but not the top of the label either.

    Are the amino acids in Protini the same as the peptides?
    No. Positions #19 through #28 are ten individual amino acids. An amino acid is a
    single building block; a peptide is two or more of them bonded together. Free
    amino acids are cheap humectants, not the signal peptides the product is named
    for.

    Does Protini have the copper peptide with the most research?
    Not the classic one. It contains Copper Palmitoyl Heptapeptide-14 at #15, a newer
    oil-soluble variant, rather than Copper Tripeptide-1 (GHK-Cu), which has the
    longer, decades-deep research record.

    Is the clinical study on Protini reliable?
    It is a 31-person, eight-week brand-commissioned panel with no control arm
    described and no peer-reviewed publication found. Treat the percentages as
    in-house marketing data rather than independent evidence.

    Do topical growth-factor peptides actually work?
    A systematic review of the category found modest, inconsistent improvements in
    texture and fine lines, with weak placebo controls across studies. For the
    cosmetic-grade EGF analog specifically, a 2023 review concluded its functional
    bioactivity has not been demonstrated.

    Nib closes a small notebook titled Ingredient Desk, sets the magnifying glass down beside the fully-read jar, and gives a satisfied nod.
    Label read, top to bottom. The peptides are real and mid-list. What is unproven is what each one does.

  • Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula: The Cocoa Butter Is the 9th Ingredient

    On the label of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula
    Moisturizing Body Lotion, cocoa butter — the ingredient the product is
    named after — is the ninth item on the list. Ahead of it sit petrolatum,
    mineral oil, and coconut oil. A cocoa extract appears at position two,
    but that is the antioxidant fraction, not the thick butter people picture.

    This is one of the best-known drugstore body lotions in the United States,
    stocked across major drugstores and big-box chains nationwide, and its selling point is right
    there in the name. So it is worth doing the one thing the name invites: reading
    the label all the way down and finding where the cocoa butter actually lands.

    Pencil sketch of Nib, a small round creature, holding a magnifying glass up to a tall lotion bottle labelled COCOA BUTTER.
    Nib picks up the bottle everyone recognises and starts at ingredient one.

    Where does the cocoa butter actually sit?

    Here is the full ingredient list as published on INCI Decoder
    (product entry,
    uploaded 2021-01-13, read 2026-09-14):

    Water (Aqua), Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Extract, Glyceryl Stearate, Petrolatum, Propylene Glycol, Glycerin, Cocos Nucifera (Coconut) Oil, Mineral Oil (Paraffinum Liquidum), Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Seed Butter, Elaeis Guineensis (Palm) Oil, Cetyl Alcohol, Dimethicone, Tocopherol, Helianthus Annuus (Sunflower) Seed Oil, Hydroxyethylcellulose, PEG-8 Stearate, Behentrimonium Methosulfate, Butylene Glycol, Stearalkonium Chloride, Cellulose, Sodium Acetate, Fragrance (Parfum), Dimethyl Stearamine, Phenoxyethanol, Sorbic Acid, Benzoic Acid, Stearyl Alcohol, Myristyl Alcohol, Yellow 5 (Ci19140), Orange 4 (Ci15510), Benzyl Alcohol

    Thirty-one entries in all. Ingredients are listed in descending order of
    concentration down to the 1% threshold, below which a manufacturer may list them
    in any order (US FDA, 21 CFR 701.3). Reading from the top, the cocoa butter
    — Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Seed Butter — is number nine.
    Everything in bold is the same thing the front of the bottle is selling.

    # Ingredient What it is
    1 Water (Aqua) Solvent — the base of the lotion
    2 Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Extract Cocoa extract (antioxidant fraction), not the butter
    3 Glyceryl Stearate Emulsifier / emollient
    4 Petrolatum Petroleum jelly — occlusive
    5 Propylene Glycol Humectant / solvent
    6 Glycerin Humectant
    7 Cocos Nucifera (Coconut) Oil Coconut oil — a different plant
    8 Mineral Oil (Paraffinum Liquidum) Petroleum-derived emollient
    9 Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Seed Butter The cocoa butter the product is named after
    22 Fragrance (Parfum) Perfuming — a documented contact allergen

    None of this is hidden. It is printed on the side of every bottle. But the
    front of the bottle and the back of the bottle tell slightly different stories,
    and the back is the one that governs what your skin meets first.

    Pencil sketch of Nib pointing a pencil at a long numbered ingredient list, tapping the ninth line where the word BUTTER is circled.
    Nine lines down, past three oils and a petroleum jelly, Nib finds the actual butter.

    Isn’t the cocoa at position two? What’s the difference?

    This is the twist that makes the label interesting rather than just
    underwhelming. There is a cocoa ingredient near the top: Theobroma
    Cacao (Cocoa) Extract     at position two. But an extract and a seed butter are
    not the same material. The butter is the fatty, emollient part — the solid
    you can scoop and melt. The extract is the polyphenol-and-antioxidant fraction,
    a functional additive usually present at a small fraction of a percent.

    Because that extract sits above the 1% line only nominally — INCI order
    cannot tell us the exact figure, and Palmer’s does not publish concentrations
    — the honest read is: the label carries two kinds of “cocoa,” and the one
    doing the moisturizing job the product is sold on is the ninth ingredient, not
    the second. Palmer’s own page describes the lotion as
    “crafted with intensively
    moisturizing Cocoa Butter and Vitamin E    .” Vitamin E (Tocopherol) is
    ingredient 13.

    Pencil sketch of Nib holding up two small jars side by side, one labelled EXTRACT and one labelled BUTTER, looking puzzled at the difference.
    Two cocoas on one label: an extract up top, the butter far below. Nib keeps them straight.

    What’s actually doing the moisturizing, then?

    If cocoa butter is ninth, the heavy lifting is done by what sits above it.
    The two most effective occlusives in this formula are petrolatum (#4) and
    mineral oil (#8). Petrolatum is not a mark against the lotion — a 2024
    review in the Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology
    (Kamrani et al., 2024)
    describes petroleum jelly as a long-established moisturizer with a strong safety
    record and dispels the common belief that it clogs pores. If anything, it is one
    of the better-evidenced things in the bottle.

    The point is not that the formula fails to moisturize. It is that the
    ingredient responsible for the name is doing less of the work than the marketing
    implies, and the ingredients doing most of the work are ones the front of the
    bottle never mentions. If you specifically want a cocoa-butter-led product, this
    label does not describe one.

    If you have read this far because you would rather buy a moisturizer built
    around its fatty ingredient than around petrolatum and mineral oil, that is the
    thing we make: our
    Whipped Tallow & Manuka
    Honey moisturizer     is grass-fed tallow, Manuka honey and olive oil, with no
    petroleum derivatives in it. (Disclosure: Ingredient Desk is published by
    the team behind Evil Goods, and that is our product.)     We have also written
    up
    how tallow compares to
    a conventional lotion base     if you want the reasoning rather than the pitch.

    Pencil sketch of Nib pouring a thick ribbon of butter from a small tub, weighing it against a large blob of petroleum jelly on an old balance scale.
    Nib weighs the named ingredient against the ones actually doing the occluding.

    Is there anything on the label worth watching for?

    A couple of points, stated with their real strength rather than as alarms.

    Fragrance. Fragrance (Parfum) is ingredient 22.
    Fragrance is a documented contact allergen: a 2024 patch-test review
    (Lynde & Lindberg, 2024)
    puts fragrance contact-allergy prevalence at roughly 4.5% of the general
    European population and higher among people already prone to dermatitis. That
    does not mean this lotion will bother you — most people wear fragranced
    products without incident — but if you are buying a body lotion precisely
    because your skin is reactive, an added fragrance is worth knowing about. (US
    labels are not required to break fragrance into its component allergens; EU rules
    require disclosure of a defined set, so a European version of a similar product
    would list more detail.)

    Comedogenicity of cocoa butter. Cocoa seed butter carries a
    comedogenicity rating of 4 out of 5 in older dermatology literature
    (Fulton et al., 1984) —
    one of the higher ratings among common emollients. But a later re-evaluation
    (Draelos & DiNardo,
    2006    ) argues that a single ingredient’s rabbit-ear score does not reliably
    predict how a finished formula behaves on human skin. Since the cocoa butter
    here is at position nine, its concentration is likely modest, so the risk from
    this formula is probably lower than from a pure cocoa butter. If you are
    acne-prone and considering this for your face, that is the nuance to hold in
    mind — not a verdict either way.

    The short version

    Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula is a competent, inexpensive drugstore lotion.
    It just is not, by the evidence of its own label, a cocoa-butter-led
    one. The name points at ingredient nine; the formula is led by water,
    petrolatum, humectants, coconut oil and mineral oil. Knowing that does not make
    it a bad product — it makes it a differently described one.

    Frequently asked questions

    Where is cocoa butter in Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula lotion?
    Cocoa seed butter is the 9th ingredient on the INCI list (source: INCI
    Decoder, read 2026-09-14). Petrolatum, coconut oil and mineral oil are all
    listed ahead of it.
    What is the cocoa “extract” at position two?
    It is Theobroma Cacao (Cocoa) Extract, the antioxidant/polyphenol
    fraction of cocoa — not the fatty seed butter. INCI order suggests it is
    present at a small percentage; Palmer’s does not publish exact concentrations.
    Is cocoa butter comedogenic?
    Cocoa butter as a single ingredient scores 4/5 for comedogenicity in 1984
    literature (Fulton et al.), but a 2006 re-evaluation (Draelos & DiNardo)
    notes single-ingredient scores don’t reliably predict finished-formula behaviour.
    At position nine, its concentration in this lotion is likely modest.
    Does the lotion contain fragrance?
    Yes — Fragrance (Parfum) is ingredient 22. Fragrance is a documented
    contact allergen (about 4.5% general-population prevalence in a 2024 review),
    worth noting if your skin is reactive.

    Ingredient list quoted verbatim from INCI Decoder
    (uploaded 2021-01-13, read 2026-09-14). INCI Decoder is a cosmetic-community
    database, not an official retailer listing; Palmer’s reformulates periodically,
    and the current physical label is the authority. Ingredient Desk is published by
    the team behind Evil Goods.

    Pencil sketch of Nib sitting on top of the closed lotion bottle, pencil behind one ear, giving a small satisfied nod at the finished ingredient list.
    Label read, cocoa butter located: ninth. Nib closes the notebook.

  • The Ordinary “Buffet” + Copper Peptides 1%: Reading the Whole Label

    On the label of The Ordinary’s
    “Buffet” + Copper Peptides 1% — now sold as Multi-Peptide +
    Copper Peptides 1% Serum — Copper Tripeptide-1 sits fourth, and the brand
    states the concentration as 1%. The hero ingredient is genuinely near the top of
    a very long list, and you are told how much is in there, which is more than most
    copper peptide serums offer. The interesting question is not a buried active. It
    is what the “Buffet” name implies about the six other peptides, and
    where they actually land on the label.

    Most of the “read the label” pieces we write here end with the
    marketed hero sitting embarrassingly far down the ingredient list, somewhere
    below the preservatives. This one does not, and that is exactly why it is worth
    reading. The Ordinary put the copper peptide where a shopper would hope to find
    it and told you the percentage. So the interesting question changes. When the
    headline active is real and honestly placed, what does the rest of a
    very long label tell you — and does the word
    “Buffet” survive a slow read?

    A quick note on the name. The product most people search for as
    “Buffet + Copper Peptides 1%” has been rebranded to
    “Multi-Peptide + Copper Peptides 1% Serum.” Same formula, new label.
    We read every name on that label, top to bottom. Here is what it says.

    Nib, a small round pencil-sketch creature, holds a magnifying glass up to a tall serum bottle whose label is crowded with tiny type, and starts reading from the very top.
    Forty-nine names on one label. Nib starts at the top, where the copper peptide turns out to live.

    Where does the copper peptide actually sit?

    Here is the full list, quoted verbatim as it appears on the product listing at
    INCIDecoder,
    read 13 September 2026. The same list appears on the product’s US and
    Canadian pages at a major beauty retailer, read the same day; all three sources
    return an identical list.

    Water, Glycerin, Lactococcus Ferment Lysate, Copper Tripeptide-1, Acetyl Hexapeptide-8, Pentapeptide-18, Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1, Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7, Palmitoyl Tripeptide-38, Dipeptide Diaminobutyroyl Benzylamide Diacetate, Acetylarginyltryptophyl Diphenylglycine, Sodium Hyaluronate Crosspolymer, Sodium Hyaluronate, Allantoin, Glycine, Alanine, Serine, Valine, Isoleucine, Proline, Threonine, Histidine, Phenylalanine, Arginine, Aspartic Acid, Trehalose, Fructose, Glucose, Maltose, Urea, Sodium PCA, PCA, Sodium Lactate, Citric Acid, Hydroxypropyl Cyclodextrin, Sodium Chloride, Sodium Hydroxide, Butylene Glycol, Pentylene Glycol, Acacia Senegal Gum, Xanthan Gum, Carbomer, Polysorbate 20, Dimethyl Isosorbide, Sodium Benzoate, Caprylyl Glycol, Ethylhexylglycerin, Phenoxyethanol, Chlorphenesin.

    Copper Tripeptide-1 — GHK-Cu, the molecule the whole product is named
    after — is fourth on that list, right behind water,
    glycerin and a postbiotic ferment. The label states 1%. On an ingredient list,
    where things are ordered roughly by weight down to about the 1% mark, fourth
    place with a disclosed percentage is close to the best a shopper can reasonably
    hope for. The copper is there, near the top, and you are told how much. Credit
    where it is due.

    Marketed hero
    Copper Tripeptide-1 (GHK-Cu)
    Position on label
    Fourth from the top
    Concentration disclosed?
    Yes — 1% stated on the label
    Ingredients on the label
    Forty-nine
    Source of list
    INCIDecoder plus the retailer’s US and Canadian pages, all read 13 Sep 2026 — identical

    The reason copper peptides get talked about at all is that the biology is not
    imaginary. In a review of the GHK-Cu literature, Pickart and Margolina describe
    the peptide acting on fibroblasts and on skin remodelling pathways, with small
    clinical studies reporting improved skin appearance over roughly twelve weeks of
    use (Pickart &
    Margolina, 2018    ). The evidence here is mostly small studies rather than
    large trials, but it is a real base, and it is why the ingredient is worth
    putting near the top of a label rather than a fingernail of it near the bottom.
    So far, so good.

    Nib runs a pencil down a long numbered list and taps position four, where a bright coin-shaped copper mark sits close to the top of the column.
    Position four, one percent, printed in plain sight. For once the hero is not hiding at the bottom.

    What does the “Buffet” of seven peptides look like on the label?

    The name promises a spread. The label delivers seven peptide technologies, and
    that part is true — but look at where six of them fall. Below the 1%
    Copper Tripeptide-1 at position four sit Acetyl Hexapeptide-8, Pentapeptide-18,
    Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1, Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7, Palmitoyl Tripeptide-38, and
    Dipeptide Diaminobutyroyl Benzylamide Diacetate — the peptides marketed
    elsewhere as Matrixyl, SYN-AKE and Argireline-family complexes. They occupy
    positions five through eleven. By their place on the label, each is present at
    less than the 1% copper peptide above them.

    How much less? The label cannot tell you exactly, and neither can we. What we
    can say is that the Cosmetic Ingredient Review Expert Panel, in its published
    safety assessment of these exact peptides, surveyed how the industry actually
    uses them and recorded typical use concentrations well below 10 parts per million
    — that is, under 0.001% — for ingredients like Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1
    and Copper Tripeptide-1 in general cosmetic use
    (CIR Expert
    Panel, Safety Assessment of Peptides, 2014, PDF    ). The Ordinary’s GHK-Cu
    at 1% is far above that industry-typical figure, which is the point of the
    product. The six “Buffet” peptides at positions five to eleven are
    not individually disclosed, so all the label licenses you to conclude is that
    each is below 1%.

    Label positions What sits there What the position implies
    4 Copper Tripeptide-1 (1%) The marketed hero; disclosed at 1%, real evidence base
    5–11 Six further peptides (Matrixyl, SYN-AKE, Argireline-family) Each below 1% by position; individual amounts undisclosed
    15–25 Eleven amino acids Surface hydration; cheap commodity bulk
    26–29 Four sugars More NMF-family hydration; inexpensive
    44 Dimethyl Isosorbide Penetration helper — but near the bottom
    45–49 Five preservatives Formula stability, not actives

    So the “Buffet” is real in the sense that seven peptides are on
    the label. Whether it is a buffet in the sense the name suggests — a
    generous helping of each — is harder to defend from a list on which six of
    the seven sit below one percent.

    Nib stands beside a stacked row of eleven identical little amino-acid blocks and four round sugar cubes, counting them on stubby fingers with a puzzled expression.
    Eleven amino acids and four sugars in a row: cheap, tidy, and taking up a whole stretch of the middle of the label.

    What fills positions 15 to 29?

    This is where the label gets talkative. Positions fifteen through
    twenty-five are eleven amino acids in a row: glycine, alanine, serine, valine,
    isoleucine, proline, threonine, histidine, phenylalanine, arginine and aspartic
    acid. Positions twenty-six through twenty-nine are four sugars: trehalose,
    fructose, glucose and maltose. Add urea and the sodium PCA / PCA / sodium lactate
    cluster just after, and a large stretch of the middle of this formula is one
    thing: Natural Moisturizing Factor components, the humectants marketed on the
    page as “amino acids and Bio-Derivatives.”

    None of that is a bad ingredient. NMF compounds are the humectants your own
    skin already uses to hold water at the surface, and they do a real, modest job.
    But two points are worth saying plainly. First, amino acids and simple sugars are
    among the cheapest inputs in a cosmetic chemist’s cabinet — commodity
    bulk. Second, a long run of the label is taken up doing surface hydration that a
    much shorter humectant system could cover. That is not deception; the label makes
    it plain. It is simply worth knowing that a chunk of the ingredient count you are
    reading is inexpensive, plentiful material rather than more actives.

    Nib peers through the magnifying glass at a single small bottle marked D M I sitting alone near the bottom of the list, one eyebrow raised.
    The one penetration helper sits at forty-four. Nib wonders whether there is enough of it down there to matter.

    Can the copper peptide actually get where it needs to go?

    Here is the part of the label that made us pause. A GHK-Cu molecule is small,
    but it is also charged, and charged peptides do not cross intact skin easily.
    That makes the one dedicated penetration helper on the label worth locating:
    Dimethyl Isosorbide sits at position forty-four — below
    the thickeners, below the emulsifiers, near the very end of the list. Solvents of
    that type are sometimes used at double-digit percentages when a formula is
    genuinely built to drive a hard-to-absorb active across the barrier. At position
    forty-four, the amount present is far lower than that.

    We are careful here: you cannot read an exact percentage off a list, and at a
    low level Dimethyl Isosorbide may be doing a perfectly sensible job as a
    solubiliser for other ingredients rather than as a delivery vehicle for the
    copper. What the label can tell you is that this formula does not appear to lean
    hard on penetration enhancement to carry GHK-Cu into the skin. Whether that
    changes the result is an open question the ingredient list raises but cannot
    close.

    Is the preservative system the real irritation story?

    The last five names on the label — sodium benzoate, caprylyl glycol,
    ethylhexylglycerin, phenoxyethanol and chlorphenesin — are the preservative
    system, and phenoxyethanol is the name ingredient-savvy communities argue about
    most, though it is only one of several preservatives to recognise here. Copper
    peptides themselves can, in a minority of people, cause mild transient stinging,
    and copper contact allergy is real but uncommon, so a patch test is sensible for
    anyone with metal-sensitive skin.

    The point worth holding onto is that when someone reports a serum
    “didn’t agree with me,” the peptide is not automatically the
    cause. A stack of five preservatives is a more common source of a reaction than a
    well-tolerated tripeptide. If your skin is reactive, patch-test on the inner
    forearm for a few days before it goes near your face — and if you do react,
    the preservative block gives you several other suspects before you blame the
    copper.

    So is it worth it, and what does a different formula look like?

    On its own terms, this is an honest label. The headline active is real, near
    the top, and quantified — genuinely unusual for the category. The rest is
    six lower-dose peptides, a long run of cheap NMF hydration, and a competent
    preservative system, with a delivery question the ingredient list raises but
    cannot answer. If you want an affordable, widely stocked copper peptide serum,
    and you go in understanding that the “Buffet” is one feature peptide
    and six sides, it is a defensible buy at around fifteen dollars.

    What would you change if you were reading this label as a formulator?
    Probably fewer commodity NMF placeholders and a harder look at delivery. That is
    the thinking behind the copper peptide serum we make —
    Evil
    Goods’ Copper Peptide Blue Honey Serum (our product)    , built around
    copper peptides, hyaluronic acid, Manuka honey and niacinamide. In fairness we
    owe you the same scrutiny we just applied: The Ordinary discloses its 1%, and
    Evil Goods does not publish a copper concentration for ours, so on that one
    measure of transparency they are ahead of us. Ingredient Desk is published by the
    team behind Evil Goods, so read our comparisons knowing that.

    FAQ

    Does The Ordinary actually use 1% copper peptides?
    The label states 1%, and Copper Tripeptide-1 sits fourth on the ingredient list
    — near the top, above the preservatives. Both the disclosed figure and the
    label position point the same way. That is unusually transparent for the
    category.

    What is Matrixyl, and how much is in this serum?
    Matrixyl is a marketing name for palmitoyl peptides such as Palmitoyl Tripeptide-1
    and Palmitoyl Tetrapeptide-7, which appear at positions seven and eight here.
    Because they fall below the 1% copper peptide at position four, each is present at
    under 1%; the exact amount is not disclosed.

    Why are there so many amino acids and sugars in it?
    Positions fifteen through twenty-nine are eleven amino acids and four sugars, all
    Natural Moisturizing Factor components. They provide real surface hydration and
    are among the cheapest ingredients available, which is how a formula ends up with
    a long run of them.

    Will the copper peptide actually absorb?
    GHK-Cu is small but charged, which makes crossing intact skin harder. The
    formula’s one penetration helper, Dimethyl Isosorbide, sits at position
    forty-four, suggesting a low level. The ingredient list raises the absorption
    question but cannot answer it.

    Could this serum irritate my skin?
    A minority of people get mild transient stinging from copper peptides, and copper
    contact allergy is uncommon but real, so patch-test if your skin is
    metal-sensitive. The stack of five preservatives is also a plausible source of a
    reaction.

    Nib closes a small notebook titled Ingredient Desk, sets the magnifying glass down, and gives a satisfied nod beside the fully-read label.
    Label read, bottom to top. The copper is real and quantified. The open question is everything sitting around it.

  • Cetaphil Moisturizing Cream: Niacinamide Is the 11th Ingredient

    Cetaphil rebuilt its Moisturizing Cream in 2021 and now leads every ad with niacinamide. On the label, niacinamide is the 11th name on a list that runs to twenty-three — sitting after the emulsifiers, the silicones and a fatty alcohol. The pair doing the actual moisturizing, glycerin and petrolatum, are second and third, and they did not change. So the new formula is largely the old workhorse with a niacinamide story wrapped around it.

    Cetaphil is one of the three creams US dermatologists name most often for dry skin, alongside CeraVe and Vanicream. The Moisturizing Cream is its flagship tub. In 2021 the brand reformulated it: out went the parabens, in came niacinamide, panthenol and sweet almond oil. Every piece of marketing now opens with “a dermatologist-backed blend of niacinamide.” The label tells a slightly different story about where that niacinamide falls in line — and it is worth reading in order.

    A disclosure before we go on: Ingredient Desk is published by the team behind Evil Goods, a tallow skincare brand. We read labels for a living and we sell an alternative for dry skin. We will point at ours once, clearly labelled, near the end. Everything about Cetaphil below comes from Cetaphil’s own US page, a retail listing, and the peer-reviewed literature — dated and linked so you can check us.

    Nib, a small round pencil-sketch creature, holds a magnifying glass up to an oversized tub of moisturizing cream, squinting at the tiny ingredient list running down the side of the jar.
    Nib does the thing most of us skip at the shelf: reads the whole list, in order.

    What does the Cetaphil Moisturizing Cream label actually say?

    Here is the full ingredient list, quoted verbatim from Cetaphil’s own US product page (cetaphil.com, read 11 September 2026). The same list, in the same order, appears on the Ulta retail listing:

    Water, Glycerin, Petrolatum, Dicaprylyl Ether, Dimethicone, Glyceryl Stearate, Cetyl Alcohol, Helianthus Annuus (Sunflower) Seed Oil, Peg-30 Stearate, Panthenol, Niacinamide, Prunus Amygdalus Dulcis (Sweet Almond) Oil, Tocopheryl Acetate, Pantolactone, Dimethiconol, Acrylates/C10-30 Alkyl Acrylate Crosspolymer, Carbomer, Propylene Glycol, Disodium Edta, Benzyl Alcohol, Phenoxyethanol, Sodium Hydroxide, Citric Acid

    Ingredient lists are ordered by descending concentration down to roughly 1%, after which the order stops meaning much. Cetaphil’s page notes that formulas are updated and asks you to check the physical package, so treat this as the list on the brand’s US site on the date above rather than an eternal truth. This is the current, post-2021, paraben-free formula; the number on your own tub is the only source that settles what is in it today.

    Nib stands beside a tall pencil-drawn bar chart; the three tallest bars near the front are labelled water, glycerin and petrolatum, while a small bar labelled niacinamide sits far back in eleventh place.
    The first three entries build the cream. Niacinamide, the ingredient on the front of the box, arrives in eleventh.

    Where does the niacinamide actually sit?

    Niacinamide is name number eleven, on a list that ends at twenty-three. In front of it are water, glycerin, petrolatum, an emollient ether, the silicones, an emulsifier, a fatty alcohol, a seed oil, another emulsifier (PEG-30 stearate, typically used at roughly 1–3%), and panthenol. In other words, the lead marketing ingredient falls into the second half of the formula, just behind an emulsifier that itself sits at a low single-digit percentage.

    Cetaphil does not disclose the niacinamide concentration, and we are not going to invent one. What position #11 tells you is only this: it is below the ingredients ahead of it, one of which is used at about 1–3%. The independent clinical literature on niacinamide clusters its measured effects at 2–5%. A 2006 study in the Journal of Cosmetic and Laser Therapy (Draelos et al., PMID 16766489) tested 2% on facial sebum; a 2000 paper in the British Journal of Dermatology (Tanno et al., PMID 10971324) showed nicotinamide raising ceramide biosynthesis in skin at similar concentrations. Whether Cetaphil’s cream lands inside that window is not something the label lets you know. The inference is yours to draw; we will not put a number on it that the brand itself declines to.

    Nib peers through the magnifying glass at a single small jar labelled niacinamide, a question mark drawn above it, with a faint percent sign scribbled out beside the jar.
    Present, yes. At what percentage? The label does not say, so neither do we.

    So what is actually moisturizing your skin?

    The answer is in the first three lines. Glycerin at #2 is a humectant — it pulls water toward the skin. Petrolatum at #3 is the occlusive that seals it in. That pairing is the whole of the cream’s long-hydration story, and it is worth being precise about petrolatum, because “petroleum byproduct” alarms people more than the evidence justifies.

    Petrolatum is an FDA-recognized OTC skin protectant (21 CFR § 347.10), permitted as an active at 30–100% in that category. In Cetaphil’s cream it is listed as a cosmetic ingredient rather than a labelled active, but the regulatory grounding for what it does is well established, and it is one of the best-evidenced barrier ingredients in dermatology. Crucially, glycerin and petrolatum sat at the top of the pre-2021 formula too. The reformulation added niacinamide, panthenol, sweet almond oil and vitamin E on top of a chassis that was already a competent dry-skin moisturizer. The new box is not a new cream so much as a new narrative around the same opening entries — which is not a criticism of the cream, only of reading the front of the box instead of the side.

    Nib sits cross-legged reading a long unfurled ingredient scroll, nodding approvingly at the top three lines while the lower entries trail off the edge of the paper.
    The top of the list is doing the work. It is the same top of the list it had before the relaunch.

    Is there anything a “sensitive skin” buyer should note?

    One entry is worth a calm mention. Propylene glycol appears at position #18 — a humectant and solvent, present here at a low concentration given where it falls in the list. It is worth flagging only because this cream is marketed as hypoallergenic and for sensitive skin, and propylene glycol has a documented, if modest, contact-allergy rate. It is a well-characterised skin sensitiser reviewed in the dermatology literature (Dermatitis, 2018, PMID 29059092), with cosmetics the most common exposure route. A low position reduces that risk; it does not erase it. This is not a claim that the product harms anyone — most people use propylene glycol formulas with no trouble at all — only a note that a sensitiser with a known patch-test signal is on the list of a product sold specifically to sensitive skin.

    What the formula does not contain is also worth a line. There are no ceramides and no hyaluronic acid, the pair that define its shelf-neighbours CeraVe and Neutrogena Hydro Boost. Cetaphil’s barrier support comes from petrolatum and glycerin instead, with niacinamide potentially assisting at whatever level it is present. That is a legitimate approach with strong evidence — it is simply a different one from what the packaging’s ingredient-forward language implies.

    What should you actually take from the label?

    Read the order, not the front. On this tub, the entries you can be confident are doing the heavy lifting — glycerin and petrolatum — are second and third, and they are the same ones the cream had before its 2021 relaunch. The niacinamide the marketing leads with is eleventh, at a percentage the brand does not disclose and the label cannot confirm sits in niacinamide’s evidenced range. None of that makes it a bad cream. It makes it a petrolatum-and-glycerin cream with a niacinamide label.

    If you are here because your dry skin wants an occlusive that seals moisture in and you would rather it come from an animal fat than a petroleum derivative, that is the whole argument behind our own tallow for dry skin — grass-fed beef tallow, which is naturally rich in the fatty acids skin uses. We are not going to tell you it out-performs petrolatum in a trial, because that trial is not ours to cite. We will tell you honestly that it is a different occlusive with a much shorter research record, and let you weigh that against a cream whose active backbone is a well-studied petroleum jelly.

    Frequently asked questions

    Where is niacinamide on the Cetaphil Moisturizing Cream ingredient list? It is the 11th name on the list, which runs to twenty-three, after water, glycerin, petrolatum, an emollient ether, the silicones, an emulsifier, a fatty alcohol, a seed oil, a second emulsifier and panthenol.

    Did Cetaphil change the formula? Yes. In 2021 the brand removed parabens and added niacinamide, panthenol, sweet almond oil and vitamin E. Glycerin and petrolatum, the top of the list, were unchanged.

    What is the strongest moisturizer in the formula? By position, glycerin (#2, a humectant) and petrolatum (#3, an occlusive). Petrolatum is an FDA-recognized OTC skin protectant.

    What percentage is the niacinamide? Cetaphil does not disclose it. Position #11 puts it below an emulsifier typically used at 1–3%; the independent literature clusters niacinamide’s measured effects at 2–5%. The label does not let you confirm where this cream falls.

    Nib closes a small notebook and gives a thumbs-up beside the tub of cream, the ingredient scroll rolled neatly under one arm, satisfied at having read the whole list.
    Read the order, not the front of the box. The label was telling the truth the whole time.

  • Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair: Retinol Is Ingredient #26

    On the label of Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair Retinol Face Moisturizer, retinol — the ingredient the product is named after — appears in position 26 on the list. It sits after the fragrance (#20), after the PTFE (#22) and after a long run of preservatives and thickeners. By the convention that INCI lists run roughly in descending order of concentration, the hero active is one of the last things in the jar.

    This is one of the best-selling retinol moisturizers in American drugstores. Retinol is in the product’s name, on the front of the box, and at the top of every line of marketing copy Neutrogena writes for it. So it is worth reading the one thing the marketing does not put on the front: the full ingredient list, in order.

    What does the label actually say?

    Here is the complete INCI list, quoted verbatim. The order is what matters — cosmetic ingredient lists are required to run in descending order of concentration down to 1%, after which the order is a manufacturer’s choice. The position of an ingredient is therefore a rough floor on how little of it can be present.

    Water, Pentaerythrityl Tetraethylhexanoate, Glycerin, Dimethicone, PPG-15 Stearyl Ether, Stearyl Alcohol, Cetearyl Alcohol, Butylene Glycol, Glyceryl Behenate, Ceteareth-20, Isohexadecane, Cyclopentasiloxane, Dimethicone Crosspolymer, Polyethylene, Sodium Polyacrylate, Phenoxyethanol, Caprylyl Glycol, Sodium Acryloyldimethyltaurate/VP Crosspolymer, Polyacrylamide, Fragrance, C13-14 Isoparaffin, PTFE, Chlorphenesin, Polysorbate 20, Hydrolyzed Myrtus Communis Leaf Extract, Retinol, BHT, Sodium Hyaluronate, Disodium EDTA, Laureth-7, Sodium Hydroxide, Ascorbic Acid

    Sourced from the product’s entry on the ingredient decoder INKEEDecoder (read 10 September 2026), corroborated by the live listing on the retailer’s own product page, which carries the same sequence with a handful of its own spelling slips. Both are third-party transcriptions of the packaging rather than the manufacturer’s own database, so treat the list as the label as sold, not a formula spec. Neutrogena markets this active as “Retinol SA”; that is a branding term, and the INCI simply reads Retinol.

    Nib, a small round creature drawn in loose pencil sketch, holds a large magnifying glass up to a long product ingredient label, squinting to read a word near the very bottom.
    Nib doing the one thing the front of the box never asks you to: reading to the end of the list.

    Where does the retinol actually sit?

    Retinol appears in position 26. To put that in order, here is the back half of the list — the part after the water, the silicones and the emulsifiers have all been named.

    Position Ingredient What it is doing
    20 Fragrance Perfume — a common contact allergen, here ahead of the active
    22 PTFE Polytetrafluoroethylene, the raw material of Teflon; a slip/smoothing agent, no skin-treatment role
    26 Retinol The named hero active
    28 Sodium Hyaluronate The “hyaluronic acid” the box also advertises
    32 Ascorbic Acid Vitamin C, last on the list, present as an antioxidant buffer

    Both of the actives Neutrogena advertises on the front of the box — retinol and hyaluronic acid — appear near the very end of the list, at positions 26 and 28. The fragrance and the PTFE both appear earlier, which is to say in larger quantity. None of that is a secret; it is printed on the carton. It is just printed in the order the marketing would rather you did not read.

    Nib stands beside a tall stack of jars and tubes almost as big as it is, counting on its stubby fingers, a pencil tucked behind where an ear would be.
    Counting down the list to ingredient twenty-six takes a while — which is rather the point.

    How much retinol does a position like that imply?

    Neutrogena does not disclose the retinol concentration in this cream in the US, so the honest answer is that we can only reason from the position. Sitting at position 26, below a long run of ingredients that are themselves used at a fraction of a percent, the retinol is almost certainly present in trace amounts — most likely well under 0.1%.

    Why does 0.1% matter? Because that is roughly where the published evidence starts. In one 2022 in-vivo patch-test study, retinol above 0.1% w/w was where the researchers saw histological remodelling of photoaged skin; 0.1% sat at the threshold and higher concentrations were clearer. A separate 2022 review of topical retinoids notes that retinol at around 0.25% is considered comparable to 0.025% tretinoin, with weaker, dose-dependent effects at lower strengths. This is a small, still-developing evidence base — a handful of studies, not settled fact — but it points one way: below about 0.1%, there is not much to point at.

    For contrast, Neutrogena’s newer Rapid Wrinkle Repair Retinol Renewal Serum — a different product — lists retinol far higher in its formula and states 0.1% in its own retailer Q&A. The classic cream analysed here is the one most people have in their bathroom, and it is the one where the active sits at the bottom.

    Nib peers at a measuring beaker holding a single tiny drop, drawn in sketchy pencil lines, one eyebrow raised in mild disbelief.
    A position near the end of a 32-item list is a rough floor on how little can be in the jar.

    Is fragrance before retinol a problem?

    It is at least an odd choice in a treatment product. Retinol itself is a known irritant: a 2024 five-day occlusive patch-test study found that retinol produced clinically significant redness resembling mild irritant contact dermatitis in the tested subjects. That study was small — 18 participants, a single population — so read it as a signal, not a verdict. Fragrance is separately one of the most frequently flagged contact allergens in dermatology, which is why treatment-focused formulas often leave it out. Here it appears at #20, ahead of the active, in a product whose whole selling point is an ingredient that can already sting sensitive skin.

    There is also a regulatory footnote worth its own sentence. In 2024 the EU formally capped retinol in face creams at 0.3% and added a mandatory label warning; Commission Regulation 2024/996 applies there from November 2025. That is a European rule and does not apply in the United States, where there is no equivalent FDA concentration limit for OTC retinol in cosmetics. The gap is worth knowing about, not worth overstating.

    Nib holds up two labels side by side, looking back and forth between them, its round body leaning with curiosity rather than anger.
    The interesting question is never ‘is this bad’ but ‘where does the thing on the front actually sit’.

    What would a formula that leads with its active look like?

    The useful comparison is not a good product versus a bad one — it is a formula that buries its hero versus one that puts it near the top. When copper peptides are the point of a product, for instance, copper tripeptide-1 tends to appear high in the list rather than 26th, because there is no reason to advertise an active and then dose it as an afterthought. Our own Copper Peptide Blue Honey Serum (that is an Evil Goods product — this site is published by the Evil Goods team, and we say so openly) is built that way: the named actives sit where you would expect the thing on the front of the bottle to sit. You do not have to take our word for it — the test is the same one we just ran on Neutrogena. Read the list, find the ingredient the product is named after, and see how far down it is.

    That is the whole method, and it works on any jar in your cabinet. The front of the box tells you what a product wants to be about. The ingredient list, read to the end, tells you what it is actually made of.

    Frequently asked questions

    Where is retinol on the Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair moisturizer label?
    Retinol appears in position 26, after the fragrance (#20) and the PTFE (#22), based on the INCI as transcribed by INKEEDecoder and corroborated by the retailer listing (both read 10 September 2026).
    Does that mean the cream contains almost no retinol?
    It implies a low concentration — position is only a rough floor, and Neutrogena does not disclose the exact figure for this cream in the US. A position that far down is consistent with a trace amount, most likely under the ~0.1% where the published evidence begins.
    Is a low-retinol moisturizer useless?
    Not necessarily — it is still a competent moisturizer, and some people prefer a gentle, low dose. The point is narrower: the marketing sells the retinol, and the label puts it near the bottom.
    Is the fragrance a safety issue?
    Fragrance is a common contact allergen and both fragrance and retinol are known irritants, so a treatment product that lists fragrance ahead of its active is a fair thing to notice. Patch-test evidence here is from small studies; individual reactions vary.
    A final wide sketch of Nib sitting cross-legged on top of a closed jar, magnifying glass resting on its knee, giving a small satisfied nod at a completed ingredient list.
    Nib’s rule of thumb: whatever is on the front of the box, go and find it on the back — and see how far down it fell.

  • Jergens Ultra Healing: The Vitamins Are Ingredients 19, 23 and 24

    Jergens Ultra Healing is sold on “Vitamins C,
    E & B5,” but on the current US label those vitamins are the 19th, 23rd
    and 24th names on the list — and Fragrance is the 17th, ahead of every one
    of them. The workhorses actually doing the moisturizing, glycerin (#2) and
    petrolatum (#4), are near the top of the list but not on the front of the bottle.
    Jergens does not disclose the vitamin concentrations.

    Jergens Ultra Healing Extra Dry Skin Moisturizer is one of the best-selling
    body lotions in America, and its pitch is right there on the bottle: Vitamins C,
    E and B5, plus a trademarked “HYDRALUCENCE blend.” That is the front.
    The back — the actual ingredient list, ordered roughly by weight down to
    about the 1% mark — tells a quieter story, and you can check it yourself in
    about a minute.

    We read the whole label. Here is where everything actually sits.

    Where do the vitamins actually land on the label?

    Here is the full current list, quoted verbatim. This is the paraben-free US
    formula, published in an independent ingredient review at
    DermApproved.com
    (dated 26 March 2026) and corroborated against the product’s listing at a
    major US retailer (TCIN 12174322, 21 fl oz, UPC 019100109995;
    identically on the 33.8 fl oz size, TCIN 94591000), read on 9 September
    2026. The two independent sources agree:

    Water, Glycerin, Cetearyl Alcohol, Petrolatum, Stearic Acid, C12-15 Alkyl Benzoate, Aluminum Starch Octenylsuccinate, Dimethicone, Laureth-3, Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride, Hydroxyacetophenone, Ceteareth-20, Allantoin, Arginine, Sodium Hydroxide, Carbomer, Fragrance, Tetrasodium Glutamate Diacetate, Panthenol, Lecithin, Pentylene Glycol, Alcohol, Ascorbyl Palmitate, Tocopherol, Phenoxyethanol, Alpha-Isomethyl Ionone, Benzyl Benzoate, Citronellol, Hexyl Cinnamal, Linalool

    Reading down that list: Panthenol — Vitamin B5 — is the 19th name.
    Ascorbyl Palmitate — the Vitamin C — is the 23rd. Tocopherol —
    Vitamin E — is the 24th. All three sit below Fragrance, which is the 17th
    name on the list. On a label ordered by weight, the three vitamins the product is
    named for are present in smaller amounts than the scent.

    We can’t read an exact percentage off a label — no brand is
    required to disclose one, and Jergens does not. What the position tells you is
    relative: everything listed above Fragrance is, together, most of what is in the
    bottle. The vitamins are in there. They are just not the bulk of the formula the
    front of the bottle advertises.

    Marketed heroes
    Vitamins C, E & B5
    Vitamin B5 (Panthenol) position
    19th on the list
    Vitamin C (Ascorbyl Palmitate) position
    23rd on the list
    Vitamin E (Tocopherol) position
    24th on the list
    Fragrance position
    17th — above all three vitamins
    Source of list
    DermApproved.com, corroborated at a major US retailer, read 9 Sep 2026
    Nib the small round pencil-sketch creature holds a magnifying glass up to a bottle of body lotion, its front printed with the words Vitamins C, E and B5, while Nib squints at the tiny numbered ingredient list on the back.
    The front says Vitamins C, E and B5. Nib turns the bottle over to see where they land.

    What is actually doing the moisturizing?

    Look past the vitamins and the real work is near the top. Glycerin is the 2nd
    ingredient — a humectant that pulls water into the skin, and one of the
    most reliable moisturizing ingredients there is. Petrolatum is the 4th. That one
    has a regulatory pedigree the vitamins don’t: petrolatum is a recognized
    skin protectant under the US FDA’s
    OTC
    monograph for skin protectant drug products (21 CFR 347.10)    , effective at
    30–100%. It is the ingredient that slows water loss from the skin’s
    surface — the actual barrier layer in this bottle.

    So the formula genuinely moisturizes. It just moisturizes through a
    well-understood humectant-plus-occlusive base, not through the vitamins on the
    label. Glycerin at #2 and petrolatum at #4 are the workhorses; the vitamins,
    down in the 19th-to-24th range, are the garnish. That is not a knock on the
    product — it’s a good, cheap, effective moisturizing base. It is
    just not the story the marketing tells.

    Position Ingredient What it does
    1 Water Solvent base; the bulk of the bottle
    2 Glycerin Humectant; draws water into the skin
    4 Petrolatum FDA-recognized skin protectant; slows water loss
    17 Fragrance The scent; sits above all three vitamins
    19 Panthenol (B5) Humectant; below the 1% barrier-repair threshold
    23 Ascorbyl Palmitate (C) Weakest vitamin C form; the marketed antioxidant
    24 Tocopherol (E) Antioxidant; trace position

    If you’d like to see what a completely different approach to the base
    looks like — skipping the water-and-humectant architecture entirely for a
    single animal fat — the Evil Goods team wrote about it in
    Tallow vs. Lotion:
    What’s Actually in the Bottle    . Full disclosure: Ingredient Desk is
    published by the team behind Evil Goods, so read it knowing that. It is the
    honest next question after “what is this base actually made of?”

    Nib runs a pencil down a numbered ingredient list and stops with a small start at a little perfume bottle marked Fragrance at position seventeen, drawn higher up the column than three vitamin symbols much further down.
    Fragrance sits at seventeen. All three marketed vitamins land below it.

    Does the Vitamin C at position 23 do anything?

    This is where the form matters as much as the position. The Vitamin C here
    isn’t L-ascorbic acid — the researched, active form — it is
    ascorbyl palmitate, a fat-soluble derivative. And the literature on that
    specific derivative is not encouraging. A review in the Indian Dermatology
    Online Journal     notes that “for a product to be of biological
    significance, it needs to have a vitamin C concentration higher than eight
    percent,” and, more pointedly, that “one study showed that daily
    application of MAP, ascorbyl-6-palmitate, and other ascorbic acid derivatives
    did not increase the levels of L-ascorbic acid in the skin”
    (Vitamin C in
    Dermatology, 2013    ).

    Put the two facts together: the Vitamin C in Jergens Ultra Healing is the
    form that a peer-reviewed study found did not raise skin vitamin C levels, and it
    sits at the 23rd position — far below the 8% mark the same review describes
    as the threshold for biological significance. We can’t say it does nothing;
    we can say that the published evidence for this form, at this position, is thin.
    That’s not a Jergens-specific problem, either — ascorbyl palmitate is
    a common, inexpensive way to print “Vitamin C” on a label.

    Nib peers through the magnifying glass at a big friendly water drop labelled Glycerin number two and a shiny jar labelled Petrolatum number four sitting near the top of the list, nodding approvingly at them.
    The real workhorses are glycerin at two and petrolatum at four — the parts not on the front.

    What about the B5 and Vitamin E?

    Panthenol (Vitamin B5) is a legitimately useful humectant with some barrier
    support — but the dose is what makes it work. Controlled studies of
    panthenol found that “formulations containing 1.0 and 5.0% panthenol
    produced significant decreases in TEWL” (transepidermal water loss) after
    30 days of use, with 5% treated as the threshold for measurable barrier repair
    (Camargo et al.,
    Journal of Cosmetic Science, 2011    ). At the 19th position, the
    panthenol in this lotion is almost certainly well under 1% — below the
    level those studies used to show a measurable effect. It’s present; it’s just
    present as a supporting humectant, not at a barrier-repair dose.

    Vitamin E (Tocopherol) is the 24th name on the list. It’s a fine
    antioxidant, and it works synergistically with Vitamin C — but that synergy
    assumes both are present in meaningful amounts. At the 23rd and 24th positions,
    both are near the bottom. This is a trace-antioxidant pairing, not an
    active-serum one. Again: not a criticism of the ingredients, just an honest read
    of where they sit.

    Nib taps the pencil against a tiny vitamin C symbol stamped with the number twenty-three and the words ascorbyl palmitate, holding an open notebook that reads does not raise skin L-ascorbic acid.
    Vitamin C here is ascorbyl palmitate at twenty-three — the form studies say doesn’t reach the skin’s vitamin C.

    What is the fragrance doing above the vitamins?

    Fragrance is the 17th ingredient, above Panthenol, Vitamin C and Vitamin E.
    And the tail of the label spells out five of its components individually:
    Alpha-Isomethyl Ionone, Benzyl Benzoate, Citronellol, Hexyl Cinnamal and
    Linalool. Those aren’t bonus botanicals — they are individual
    fragrance materials the EU requires to be listed separately once they exceed a
    set threshold in a leave-on product, because each is a recognized contact
    allergen.

    How much should you care? For most people, not much. A review from the
    American Contact Dermatitis Society puts fragrance allergy at “up to
    4.5%” of the general adult population at the upper estimate, with citronellol
    and linalool — both in this formula — named among the common
    individual sensitizers
    (Fragrances:
    Contact Allergy and Other Adverse Effects, 2020    ). That’s an upper-bound
    figure; clinically relevant fragrance allergy in the general population is lower.
    The risk is real but weak, and concentrated in people already sensitized. If your
    skin is reactive, the fragrance at #17 and those five names at the end are the
    part of this label to read.

    One note on the “HYDRALUCENCE blend” on the front: it’s a
    trademarked name, and Jergens doesn’t publicly disclose its composition
    beyond what’s in the INCI list. From the label, it appears to describe the
    combination of the glycerin, petrolatum and vitamins — which is to say, the
    base does the work and the branded blend is a name wrapped around it. And note
    there are two versions on shelves: an older paraben-containing travel size still
    sells with slightly different positions, but the pattern holds — fragrance
    sits above all three vitamins in both.

    FAQ

    Where are the vitamins in Jergens Ultra Healing?
    On the current US label, Vitamin B5 (Panthenol) is 19th, Vitamin C (Ascorbyl
    Palmitate) is 23rd, and Vitamin E (Tocopherol) is 24th on the list. On a list
    ordered by weight, that places all three well down the formula.

    Why is fragrance listed before the vitamins?
    Fragrance is the 17th ingredient, above all three marketed vitamins. On a
    weight-ordered list that means the scent is present in a larger amount than the
    Vitamin C, E or B5 on the front of the bottle.

    Does the Vitamin C in Jergens do anything?
    The form used is ascorbyl palmitate, and a peer-reviewed review cites a study
    finding that this and similar derivatives did not raise L-ascorbic acid levels in
    the skin. At position 23, it is also far below the roughly 8% concentration that
    review describes as needed for biological significance.

    What actually moisturizes in Jergens Ultra Healing?
    Glycerin at position 2 (a humectant) and petrolatum at position 4 (an
    FDA-recognized skin protectant). Those two, not the vitamins, are the functional
    moisturizing base.

    Are the chemical names at the end of the list something to worry
    about?
    They are individual fragrance allergens the EU requires to be listed above a
    threshold. Reaction rates in the general population are low; the risk is mainly
    for people already sensitized to fragrance. If your skin is reactive, read that
    part of the label.

    Nib sets the magnifying glass down, closes a little notebook titled Ingredient Desk and gives a small satisfied nod beside the fully-read Jergens bottle.
    Label read, front claim checked against the back. The vitamins are in there. They are just ingredients nineteen, twenty-three and twenty-four.

  • Sol de Janeiro Bum Bum Cream: Guaraná Is 12th on the List

    Sol de Janeiro’s Brazilian Bum Bum Cream is
    named for and sold on caffeine-rich guaraná extract, but on the
    brand’s own ingredient list Paullinia Cupana (Guaraná) Seed Extract
    is the twelfth name of thirty-nine. It sits behind water, three emollients, a
    silicone, and the fragrance — which is itself at position six, above the
    hero. The first five positions after water describe a conventional body-lotion
    base; the brand does not disclose the guaraná concentration.

    Brazilian Bum Bum Cream is one of the best-selling body products on the
    shelf, and its whole story is guaraná: the Amazonian berry, the caffeine,
    the “visibly firms and tightens.” That is the front of the tub. The
    back of the tub — the actual ingredient list, ordered roughly by weight
    down to about the 1% mark — tells a quieter story, and it is one you can
    check yourself in about a minute.

    We read the whole label. Here is where everything actually sits.

    Where does the guaraná actually land on the label?

    Here is the full list, quoted verbatim from the “All Ingredients”
    section of the product page at
    soldejaneiro.com,
    read on 8 September 2026 (HTTP 200). This is the 240 mL jar the brand sells
    directly; a major
    retailer’s
    product
    listing     shows the same ingredients in a slightly different order, so we quote
    the brand’s own page and treat the retailer’s copy as corroborating:

    Aqua (Water, Eau), Methyl Glucose Sesquistearate, Phenyl Trimethicone, Dodecane, Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride, Parfum (Fragrance), Cetearyl Alcohol, Glyceryl Stearate Citrate, Glyceryl Caprylate, Glycerin, Cetyl Alcohol, Paullinia Cupana (Guaraná) Seed Extract, Theobroma Grandiflorum (Cupuaçu) Seed Butter, Cocos Nucifera (Coconut) Oil, Euterpe Oleracea Fruit (Açaí) Oil, Bertholletia Excelsa (Brazil Nut) Seed Oil, Sodium Hyaluronate, Squalane, Ilex Guayusa Leaf Extract, Ilex Paraguariensis Leaf Extract, Daucus Carota Sativa (Carrot) Seed Oil, Bixa Orellana Seed Extract, Tocopherol, Mica, Sodium Phytate, Xanthan Gum, Sorbitan Isostearate, Sodium Stearoyl Glutamate, Hydroxyethyl Acrylate/Sodium Acryloyldimethyl Taurate Copolymer, Ethylhexylglycerin, Phenoxyethanol, Benzyl Alcohol, Benzyl Salicylate, Citral, Coumarin, Hydroxycitronellal, Limonene, Tin Oxide, CI 77891 (Titanium Dioxide)

    Paullinia Cupana (Guaraná) Seed Extract is the twelfth name on that
    list, which runs to thirty-nine entries. It appears after water, an emulsifier,
    a silicone, a hydrocarbon emollient, another emollient, the fragrance, and four
    more emulsifiers and humectants. On a label ordered by weight, a hero ingredient
    in twelfth place is not near the top of the formula.

    We can’t read an exact percentage off a label — no brand is
    required to disclose one, and Sol de Janeiro does not. What the position tells
    you is relative: the eleven ingredients above guaraná are, together, most
    of what is in the jar. The guaraná is present. It is just not the bulk of
    the product it is named after.

    Marketed hero
    Caffeine-rich guaraná extract
    Position on label
    Twelfth of thirty-nine
    Fragrance (Parfum) position
    Sixth — above the hero
    Source of list
    soldejaneiro.com, read 8 Sep 2026 (HTTP 200)
    Nib the small round pencil-sketch creature holds a magnifying glass up to a tub of body cream labelled Bum Bum, squinting at the tiny type on the back while a big guarana berry is printed on the front.
    The front is all guaraná. Nib turns the tub over to find where the guaraná actually lands.

    What is the base actually made of?

    Strip away the fragrance for a second and look at what actually builds the
    cream. After water at position one, the next positions are Methyl Glucose
    Sesquistearate (an emulsifier that holds the water and oil together), Phenyl
    Trimethicone (a silicone that gives the slip and light sheen), Dodecane (a
    hydrocarbon emollient that gives that fast, dry-touch absorption), and
    Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride (a coconut-derived emollient). That is a
    water-plus-silicone-plus-hydrocarbon base — the standard architecture of a
    modern body lotion, and the source of the “fast-absorbing” feel the
    brand describes.

    None of that is a criticism of the ingredients themselves. Phenyl Trimethicone
    is a perfectly good emollient silicone; Dodecane is what makes the cream sink in
    without a greasy film. The point is narrower: the texture and skin-feel people
    love about Bum Bum Cream come from the first five positions, and none of those is
    the Amazonian berry on the front.

    Position Ingredient What it does
    1 Aqua (Water) Solvent base; the bulk of the jar
    3 Phenyl Trimethicone Silicone emollient; slip and light sheen
    4 Dodecane Hydrocarbon emollient; the fast, dry-touch absorption
    6 Parfum (Fragrance) The Cheirosa 62 scent; sits above the hero
    12 Guaraná seed extract The marketed hero; sixth position after water
    24 Mica Shimmer; the “instant” effect is light reflection

    If you’d like to see what a completely different approach to the
    emollient problem looks like — skipping the water-and-silicone base
    entirely — the Evil Goods team wrote about it in
    Tallow vs. Lotion:
    What’s Actually in the Bottle    . Full disclosure: Ingredient Desk is
    published by the team behind Evil Goods, so read it knowing that. It is the
    honest next question after “what is this base made of?”

    Nib runs a pencil down a numbered ingredient list and stops with a small start at a perfume bottle marked Parfum sitting at position six, higher up than the guaraná berry further down the column.
    The fragrance sits at six. The ingredient the tub is named after is six places lower.

    Why is the fragrance higher than the hero?

    This is the detail worth sitting with. Parfum (Fragrance) is at position six.
    Guaraná is at position twelve. On a list ordered by weight, that means the
    scent is present in a larger amount than the ingredient the product is built
    around.

    That isn’t a scandal so much as an honest read of what Bum Bum Cream
    actually is: the Cheirosa 62 fragrance — pistachio, salted caramel, vanilla
    — is the product’s most distinctive quality, and the formula reflects
    that. The brand leans on the scent in its own copy (“bring on the
    compliments”). Nothing wrong with buying a body cream for how it smells.
    It’s just worth knowing that the fragrance, not the guaraná, is the
    larger part of the character in the jar.

    The visible “firming” is partly optical, too. Mica sits at
    position twenty-four, and the brand’s own FAQ explains what it does: the
    “naturally silver Mica… beautifully reflects light on the skin for
    an instant effect of smooth, healthy skin.” That is light reflection, and
    the brand describes it as an “instant effect.” It is a real,
    verifiable part of why skin looks smoother right after application.

    Nib peers through the magnifying glass at a single tiny guarana seed marked with the number twelve, holding an open notebook that reads caffeine 1 to 7 percent in studies.
    Guaraná at twelve, behind water, two emollients, a silicone and the scent. The brand won’t say the percentage.

    Does the caffeine do anything at position twelve?

    Guaraná is a caffeine source, and topical caffeine is genuinely studied
    for the look of cellulite. A 2023 review in the Journal of Clinical and
    Aesthetic Dermatology     notes that “small clinical studies support
    topical caffeine for cellulite treatment,” citing trials that used creams
    in the range of about 3.5% caffeine
    (Caffeine in
    Skincare, 2023    ). So there is real research behind the idea — and the
    reviewers are careful to add that “larger studies with long-term follow-up
    are needed before caffeine is upheld as a standard cellulite treatment.”

    The gap is that we can’t line the product up against that research,
    because Sol de Janeiro does not disclose how much guaraná extract is in
    the cream — and guaraná extract is not pure caffeine, so its position
    at twelve tells us even less about the caffeine dose than usual. The brand’s
    own FAQ is candid about the ceiling here: “There is not enough caffeine in
    our products to penetrate the skin and travel to the bloodstream.” That is
    the company’s own statement, quoted directly.

    The firming and tightening claims are cosmetic-appearance claims
    (“visibly firms & tightens”), and the brand supports them with
    its own study: a footnote reads “In a clinical study of 34 participants when
    using the cream twice daily after 4 weeks.” Thirty-four participants is a
    small study, and it is the company’s own rather than an independently
    published one. That doesn’t make the result wrong — it just means the
    evidence is a small, in-house trial, which is worth knowing the size of before
    you read “clinically” on the front.

    Nib taps the pencil against a row of six little chemical vials clustered at the very bottom of the label, each stamped with a small EU allergen flag.
    Six names at the end — Citral, Coumarin, Limonene and friends. Not bonus disclosure; EU allergen flags.

    What are those chemical names at the very end?

    The last six names on the list — Benzyl Salicylate, Citral, Coumarin,
    Hydroxycitronellal, Limonene, and Benzyl Alcohol just above them — aren’t
    bonus botanicals. They are individual fragrance components the EU requires to be
    listed separately when they exceed a set threshold in a leave-on product, because
    each is a known contact allergen. When you see Citral, Coumarin and Limonene
    spelled out at the end of an INCI, those are EU-mandated allergen flags, present
    above the disclosure limit.

    How much should you care? For most people, not much. Benzyl Salicylate is
    classified by the EU’s Scientific Committee on Consumer Safety as a skin
    sensitiser and an established contact allergen in humans
    (SCCS
    Opinion, 2023    ), and a systematic review in Contact Dermatitis puts
    Coumarin’s reaction rate at roughly 0.4–0.8% of patch-tested patients
    (Contact Dermatitis
    review, 2018    ). So the risk is real but weak in the general population, and
    concentrated in people already sensitised. The reason you see the list at all is
    that the product is sold globally; the
    EU
    allergen-labelling rules     require the individual names, while US rules do not.
    If you have reactive skin, that tail end of the label is the part to read.

    One honest note on the label itself: the brand’s ingredient-highlights
    section lists a “Micro Algae Extract,” but that name does not appear
    anywhere in the “All Ingredients” list on the same page as of our
    read date. We’re flagging that rather than analysing it — we only
    write about what the INCI actually shows.

    FAQ

    Where is the guaraná in Brazilian Bum Bum Cream?
    Twelfth on a list of thirty-nine, on the brand’s own product page. It sits
    behind water, three emollients, a silicone, and the fragrance. On a list ordered
    by weight, that places it well down the formula.

    Why is fragrance listed before guaraná?
    Parfum (Fragrance) is at position six and guaraná is at position twelve.
    On a weight-ordered list that means the scent is present in a larger amount than
    the hero ingredient. The Cheirosa 62 fragrance is a big part of what the product
    actually is.

    Does the caffeine in Bum Bum Cream do anything?
    Topical caffeine is studied for the look of cellulite at 1–7% in the
    literature, but Sol de Janeiro does not disclose the guaraná concentration,
    so it can’t be compared. The brand’s own FAQ says there is not enough
    caffeine in the product to penetrate the skin and reach the bloodstream.

    What actually makes skin look firmer right away?
    Partly the mica at position twenty-four. The brand’s FAQ says the silver
    mica reflects light for an “instant effect of smooth, healthy skin”
    — an optical effect — alongside the moisturising base.

    Are the chemical names at the end of the list something to worry
    about?
    They are individual fragrance allergens the EU requires to be listed above a
    threshold. Reaction rates in the general population are low; the risk is mainly
    for people already sensitised to fragrance. If your skin is reactive, read that
    part of the label.

    Nib sets the magnifying glass down, closes a little notebook titled Ingredient Desk and gives a small satisfied nod beside the fully-read Bum Bum label.
    Label read, front claim checked against the back. The guaraná is real. It is just the twelfth thing in the tub.