There is a moment in this conversation when Mangala Rao describes being a young girl in Canada, mortified as her mother washed her hair with shikakai and rubbed coconut oil into her plaits, while everyone else was using salon shampoos and Western beauty products.
She didn’t see it as wisdom then. She saw it as a difference. As something to hide.
Decades later, in the foothills of the Himalayas, scattering her father’s ashes and trying to find her way back to herself after grief had taken her apart, she found her way back to exactly those rituals. And everything changed.
Mangala Rao is the founder of Chasma, an Ayurvedic skincare brand built not from a business plan but from a breakdown and a homecoming. After her father’s sudden death in 2019, her body spoke loudly and unmistakably, hair falling out, skin inflamed, joints aching, nervous system unravelling. She went to an Ayurvedic retreat in India looking for relief. She came home carrying something she hadn’t expected: a reconnection to ancient Indian healing practices she had spent years quietly distancing herself from.
At 50, Mangala’s skin and hair are, by her own account and a recent biological age test, healthier than they were in her thirties. Not because she found the right products. Because she stopped fighting, her skin, her body, her heritage, and started listening.
It is not about products. It is about what it means to finally come home to yourself.
Your skincare journey began in the foothills of the Himalayas, at an Ayurvedic retreat, after scattering your father’s ashes. That is such a profound intersection of grief, healing, and discovery. What was that experience like, and how did something so deeply personal become the foundation of a business?
After my father’s sudden death in 2019 and the pandemic, my body fell apart in ways I didn’t have language for. Massive pain, hair falling out in clumps, and skin that felt like it was on fire. Underneath it all, I also felt like I lost my ability to regulate my emotions. I went to an Ayurvedic retreat in India looking for healing and found something I was not expecting. I found a reconnection to ancient Indian rituals that have surrounded me my whole life. I came home changed. People kept asking me what I was doing differently. Building something for myself still felt transgressive, though, but I set up a table at a local pop-up market and started selling. That was the beginning of Chasma.
At the time you arrived at that retreat, your skin was highly sensitive, red, blotchy, with milia, hair loss, and deep wrinkles. You now say your skin and hair at 49 are healthier than they were in your 30s. What changed, not just in your skincare routine, but in how you understood the relationship between what you put on your skin and what was happening inside your body?
What changed for me was a greater understanding of how my body works and what it needs to nourish, repair, and heal. I spent my 20s and 30s working my body hard. From childbirth to a demanding career to running marathons, I was aggressive and focused on performance. My body was sending me clear signals of misalignment, my nervous system was in a constant state of fight, my joints deeply ached, my gut was irritated, my hair had increased shedding, and my skin was sensitive and inflamed.
I tried marginal changes with temporary relief. It wasn’t until I met an Ayurvedic practitioner that I realised how working in alignment with my dosha could unveil my best health and best self. At the retreat, I learned to slow everything down. I simplified my routine, removed synthetic fragrance completely, focused on barrier repair, nourishment, scalp health, sleep, stress reduction, hydration, and anti-inflammatory ingredients. I also began thinking about beauty as something connected to the nervous system and hormonal balance, not just topical products.
The irony is that at 50, my skin and hair are healthier than they were in my 30s because I stopped attacking them and started supporting them, and a recent biological medical test revealed that even though I am 50, my biological age is 35.
You discovered that synthetic fragrances were the hidden culprit behind years of skin sensitivity and irritation, something most women would never suspect. For South Asian women in midlife, who are often navigating skin changes they don’t fully understand, what are the most common ingredient offenders hiding in mainstream skincare that are quietly making things worse?
People of colour often experience inflammation differently and are prone to post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation (American Academy of Dermatology). Research has shown that synthetic fragrances are one of the leading causes of dermatitis, and they are hiding in plain sight and smell. It can cause redness and irritation. Another common ingredient in skincare products that can make skin worse is Sodium Lauryl Sulfate (SLS). It is an overly aggressive foaming system, and with overuse, it can strip your moisture barrier.
Perimenopause and menopause bring significant and often distressing changes to the skin, increased dryness, sensitivity, thinning, pigmentation changes, breakouts, and a loss of the elasticity that women have taken for granted. From an Ayurvedic perspective, what is actually happening in the skin during this hormonal transition, and why does the approach to skincare need to fundamentally shift at this life stage?
From an Ayurvedic perspective, perimenopause and menopause occur when hormonal changes cause a dosha imbalance. When women experience dry, fine-lined, dull skin, that is a vata imbalance. At the same time, a pitta aggravation shows up as redness and sensitivity. The biggest mistake we make is trying to continue treating your skin the same way you always have. Mid-life skin needs nourishment, restoration, hydration, calming, and barrier support. The approach becomes less about control and more about balance.
Ayurveda sees skin not as a surface problem but as a reflection of internal balance, of the interplay between Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. For South Asian women in midlife who are under significant stress, often depleted, and experiencing hormonal shifts, what does their skin typically tell you about what is happening deeper inside, and how does Ayurveda address that root cause rather than the surface symptom?
Our skin is the last organ to absorb nutrients, but the first organ to show issues. Ayurveda looks at the whole system because what is showing up on your skin is happening inside your body, too. Vata imbalance often shows up on the skin as dryness, dullness, and accelerated ageing, so the skin is telling us that the body needs hydration. Pitta imbalance can manifest as redness, inflammation, and pigmentation, so the skin is telling us that the body needs fewer inflammatory foods and a calmer nervous system. Finally, a Kapha skin imbalance appears oily and puffy, and the body needs clarifying and stimulation, such as facial massage and exercise. By addressing the root cause, we can bring our doshas back into alignment and reveal radiant skin.
South Asian women in midlife are navigating a particular relationship with their skin, shaped by colourism, by cultural ideals of fairness, by decades of products marketed around brightening and anti-ageing in ways that can feel both familiar and harmful. How do you approach the conversation about skin and self-worth with South Asian women who have grown up in that cultural landscape?
I love this question because for a lot of South Asian women, our relationship with our appearance is shaped by growing up with the idea that lighter, younger, smoother skin somehow equals beauty and worthiness. That conditioning comes from deep generational trauma dating to colonialism. I try to create a conversation about the importance of alignment, loving yourself, and focusing not just on what you put on your skin, but on your overall health to reveal your best skin ever. Healthy skin is balanced skin, where the mind, body, and soul are better aligned. I think there is something deeply healing about reconnecting with beauty rituals from our own culture, rooted in care and celebration rather than aggressive correction. For me, Ayurveda is not about chasing fairness or the media definition of perfect skin. It is about balance, nourishment, and honouring the skin you are in.
You built Chasma on the principle of purity and intention, stripping away the unnecessary and returning to what is genuinely nourishing. That philosophy maps almost exactly onto what The Sattva Collective believes about midlife itself. What parallels do you see between the journey of simplifying a skincare routine and the journey of simplifying a life, particularly for South Asian women who have accumulated so much of what they no longer need?
We live in a culture of MORE. More supplements, more skincare steps, more routines, and more makeup. I think there is a profound parallel between simplifying skincare and simplifying life. Many of us are carrying so many expectations, pressures, roles, emotional labour, and products. We are problem-solving, constantly looking for answers. Ultimately, we eventually realise that more is not always better. This was my experience. I stopped using electronic facial brushes, harsh exfoliants, and layering endless products and started asking myself what was truly nourishing and what was causing stress and irritation. Midlife has a way of clarifying what truly matters. There is wisdom in shedding what no longer serves you, whether that is your routine, your relationship, or your beliefs about yourself.
Many South Asian women in midlife approach skincare with a sense of urgency, trying to reverse or halt what they see as damage, fighting their ageing skin rather than working with it. What shift in mindset do you try to help women make, and what becomes possible when a woman stops fighting her skin and starts listening to it instead?
In Ayurveda, ageing is seen as a natural transition to be supported through nourishment, balance, ritual, and care. It recognises that the body, skin, and hair naturally evolve through the different seasons of life. The mindset shift I try to help women see through my brand, Chasma, is that the goal is not to look 25 forever, but to age intentionally, beautifully, and well. Ayurveda teaches us to focus on longevity and vitality from within, calming inflammation, nourishing the nervous system, supporting sleep, and caring for the scalp and skin before imbalance shows up externally. Your skin and scalp are telling us what our body needs. So, when we focus on treating the whole self both topically and internally, stop fighting ageing aggressively, and listen to the body, what becomes possible is connection to ourselves at every age.
Ayurvedic skincare is deeply rooted in South Asian heritage, yet many South Asian women have spent decades turning away from it in favour of Western products, only to return to it in midlife. Why do you think that return happens? And what does it mean, culturally and personally, for a South Asian woman to reclaim the beauty wisdom of her own heritage?
This question speaks to my soul. I think for many South Asian women, there is a complicated relationship with our own beauty rituals growing up, especially for those of us born and raised in the West. Growing up in Canada at a time when there weren’t a lot of South Asians, I was mortified when my mom used to wash our hair with shikakai and rub coconut oil into my plaits, when everyone else was using salon shampoos and Western beauty products. I didn’t see those rituals as luxurious or wise at the time. I saw them as a thing that made me feel and smell different.
So many of us spent years distancing ourselves from our culture to try to blend in. Western beauty was viewed as success, modern and sophisticated, while our South Asian traditions were dismissed as old school and traditional.
I think the reason why, in midlife, many women return to our South Asian traditions like Ayurveda is that we start to see how much our population has been underserved by traditional medicine, and we are looking for something deeper than quick fixes or trends. We start realising that our mothers’ and grandmothers’ practices were never just about beauty, but their rituals were about nourishment and connection to a higher power. I also think there is something very healing about reclaiming our rituals and realising there was always wisdom there. For me, it felt less like discovering something new and more like a homecoming and a sense of comfort.
You are 49, building a business rooted in your own midlife experience, with skin that tells a story of healing rather than decline. What do you want South Asian women in midlife to understand about what is possible for their skin and for themselves in this season of life?
I want women to understand that midlife is the beginning of a beautiful next chapter. It can actually become a period of healing and reconnection with yourself if you let it. Your skin is capable of improving. Your hair can become healthier. Your energy can return, but it requires a relationship rooted in understanding and nourishment, not punishment and criticism. Now at 50, I do not feel like I am trying to turn back time and be a younger version of myself. I feel more physically and emotionally aligned now than I ever have been before, and for the first time in a long time, comfortable in my own skin. That is the possibility I hope women can see for themselves, too.
What stays with me from this conversation is the image Mangala returns to at the end.
Not younger skin. Not turning back time. Not a before and after.
Comfortable in her own skin, for the first time in a long time.
That phrase carries so much. Because for South Asian women who have spent decades navigating colourism, cultural expectations, the relentless pressure to look a certain way, and the particular disorientation of a midlife body that no longer behaves as expected, comfort in your own skin is not a small thing. It is the whole thing.
Mangala’s journey, from grief to an Ayurvedic retreat, from hiding coconut oil and shikakai in her childhood to building a business rooted entirely in those practices, is a story about reclamation. About the wisdom that was always there, waiting patiently for us to stop running from it.
Your skin is not a problem to be solved. It is a conversation to be had, with your body, your history, your heritage, and yourself.
And midlife, as Mangala reminds us, is not the end of feeling beautiful. It is the beginning of understanding what that actually means.
If you’d like to explore Mangala’s work and the world of Chasma further:
Website: www.chasmaskin.com.
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