This isn’t to divide but simply to educate. After all, we are one and the same—bound by roots that twist like our curls, and stories passed down in whispers, braids, and scalp massages thick with love. I wish I could write a whole book about our traditions, but what comes to mind most vividly is how rough my hair was treated between my grandmother’s legs—her knees my salon chair, her hands both healer and disciplinarian.
I still wince at the memory of barrettes that clamped too close to my temples, leaving behind throbbing little bruises no one could see. And yet, despite the tension and the tugging, there was a comfort in the ritual. The scent of Blue Magic, the greasy slide of pomade layered thick between tracks, and the ever-present aroma of Lwil Maskriti—Haitian castor oil.
This oil wasn’t just for hair. It was our remedy for colds, for chest pain, for belly aches and sore throats. It was poured into palms and rubbed into skin, massaged into temples, whispered over with prayers. It lived in kitchen cabinets and beside beds. It was ancestral. It was essential.
And while I could go on about its antibacterial properties, its richness in omega fatty acids, or its strength as a scalp stimulant, I’d rather speak of it in the only context that makes sense for Bellurelle—as a sacred tool for hair growth and restoration.
Let’s talk about what sets Haitian castor oil apart.
The Difference Is in the Hands
Unlike Jamaican castor oil, which is typically produced by roasting the castor beans until ash forms—giving it that signature dark color and smoky scent—Haitian castor oil is pressed by hand. No large machines. No industrial shortcuts. Just tradition. The beans are sun-dried, lightly toasted (if at all), and ground with care, often using a mortar and pestle, then slowly pressed to release a thick, golden oil that smells fresh, earthy, and deeply rooted.
This method of pressing preserves the purity and potency of the oil. There’s no ash, which means the pH is more balanced and friendly to the scalp. It’s thicker than most oils, but somehow still penetrates deeper—working its way into follicles, nourishing the roots from within.
Hair Care Was Always a Ceremony
Before it was commercialized, hair care in our homes was a moment of communion. It started on Saturday nights, or Sunday mornings after church, or whenever the house was quiet enough for you to sit and be still. Aunts, mothers, grandmothers—each with their own method of parting, greasing, and styling. They didn’t call it a “pre-poo” or a “hot oil treatment,” but that’s exactly what it was.
A warm towel. A generous scoop of oil. Fingertips that massaged in circles—sometimes a little too firmly, but always with love.
Hair was sectioned, detangled, and thickly coated with oil like it was being protected from the world. Because it was.
These traditions weren’t fancy. But they were intimate. And they were effective.
Bellurelle Carries It Forward
At Bellurelle, we didn’t just want to create a product. We wanted to honor a lineage. That’s why our Boost Oil is centered around authentic, Haitian black castor oil—not a watered-down version, not a trendy rebrand, but the real thing.
We blend it with 14 potent, growth-promoting herbs including fenugreek, nettle, horsetail, rosemary, and bhringraj—each chosen for their deep-rooted power to awaken follicles and fortify strands. It’s thick. It’s rich.
Because your hair is your glory.
Ritual Reminder
Massage your scalp tonight like your grandma used to do—slow, intentional, unapologetic. Your roots will remember.