I am a highly reactive person.

I react to things that most people wouldn't give a second thought. I can develop rashes, asthmatic coughing, hayfever and autoimmune flares. I have a nickel allergy. I even react badly to paracetamol — despite once being told by a doctor that this was impossible.

Well, my body apparently didn't get that memo.

And do you know how annoying it is to buy yet another product that you have carefully checked, genuinely believe you're going to cope with, and then discover that once again you're suffering because of it?

I've had it happen with conventional products. I've had it happen with products marketed as natural. I've had it happen with products described as eco-friendly and non-toxic.

I've had cleaners use products in my home that left both my husband and me with headaches from the smell, and me with an asthmatic cough. On another occasion, supposedly eco-friendly products left me coughing through the night.

At that point I really don't care whether my benchtop is gleaming.

I'd rather have a house that is clean enough and be able to breathe in it.

And that's one of the things that frustrates me about the word "natural." It doesn't necessarily tell me very much. 

Have a look at the ingredient list on an average skincare or personal care product.

Sometimes it is enormous.

There may be ingredients with names you can't pronounce. Then there might be an impressive collection of botanical extracts and essential oils.

But why are they there?

What does each one actually contribute to the product?

I've been taken in by those lists too. A product containing a wonderful collection of herbs and oils sounds as though it must be good. But a tiny amount of this and a drop of that may add more to the story on the label than to what the product actually does.

That bothers me.

I would rather use fewer ingredients and know why every one of them is there.

But I want to be clear about something else.

If a simple product doesn't work, there is no virtue in its simplicity. If a natural ingredient doesn't agree with you, the word "natural" on the label isn't going to make your skin care.

But for someone like me, complexity has another downside. Every additional ingredient is another thing I may react to. That doesn't make the ingredient bad — it may be perfectly fine for almost everyone else. But when you're highly reactive, a long ingredient list means a long list of possibilities when something goes wrong.

So if an ingredient doesn't need to be there, I'd rather leave it out.

For me, the point is to use what is needed, understand why it is there, and make a product that actually does its job.

It actually started because I had excess tallow.

I certainly didn't sit down at 71 and think, What I really need at this stage of my life is to start a skincare business.

I thought I might make four or perhaps six products.

That didn't quite go according to plan.

As I started formulating, I kept finding other things I wanted — products that were relatively simple, purposeful and that I could actually use myself.

And that became my rule:

If I wouldn't use it myself, I don't want to sell it.

But there is another part to that rule.

It has to do the job.

Being natural isn't enough. Being handmade isn't enough. Having beautiful botanicals in it isn't enough.

If the product doesn't work properly, what's the point?

I've already reformulated a number of my products because I wasn't satisfied. The lip products have changed. The deodorant has changed. The Calendula & Chamomile Moisturising Balm has changed. Soothe & Cool has changed.

Believe me, reformulating is a nuisance.

It means another batch. Labels may need changing. The website needs changing. Packaging may need changing. And then I have to work out what on earth I'm going to do with what I've already made.

So I don't change things for the fun of it.

I change them because if something isn't doing the job properly, I don't want to sell it.

Why would I subject myself to all of this for something I didn't believe in? At my age, that would be madness.

Absolutely not.

How could I possibly know that?

I know how they work for me. I know why I chose the ingredients. I know what I have observed through years of naturopathic practice. And I know that I genuinely love the products I have finally decided are good enough to put on this website.

But your skin isn't my skin.

That's why customer feedback is going to matter enormously to me.

If people tell me something could be better, I want to know. If I start hearing the same thing from a number of people, I'll look at the formulation again. That's part of this process for me, not something I need to defend against.

I'm not trying to prove that my products are better than everybody else's.

I'm not particularly interested in competing with anybody.

I simply think there should be another choice.

During my years as a naturopath, I have seen many people whose bodies react the way mine does — to fragrances, to preservatives, to ingredients that most people never give a second thought to. I know I am not the only person who has to think carefully about what goes on my skin and what comes into my home.

And there are also people who aren't highly reactive at all. They simply want fewer unnecessary ingredients in their lives.

These products are for them too.