Hey thanks for reading. We’re starting this journal to share some of our science, insights and news about bugs, skin and beauty. Stay tuned for articles like “The Phototoxicity of Common Essential Oil Bug Sprays: Why They May Be Increasing Our Risk of Skin Cancer” and “The Grounding Power of Vetiver: A Subtropical Grass and Solar Storms.”

We’ll also be sharing helpful tips like “How To Do The Ultimate Tick Check.” Did you know that the Lone Star tick particularly likes the pubic and groin area? Oh boy. The tiny tick nymphs especially love this warm, moist area.

Putting that terrifying fact aside; I wanted to use this first post to introduce myself and share some of the backstory behind anti.

We like to think of anti as a luxury bug spray. Simply because we think that fearlessly experiencing nature, unbothered, is a real luxury. Second, because our ingredients are the best naturally occurring anti-aging compounds, with free radical fighting power that benefits skin over time, and gives instant results that make skin glow, mask blemishes and improve tone and texture.

I’m Kaitlyn, founder of anti. I’m a former fashion and beauty branding exec. Once I found nature, I couldn’t leave my career fast enough, because I knew it was my real calling.

Nearly five years ago I moved from NYC to the country— and that’s when life started to get weird. In a good way.

I found something called wonder. I found it by going off the grid (Instagram), and going outside. Scrolling through nature, quiet contemplation, I found myself. I stopped buying stupid sh*t, stopped dying my hair, cool birds don’t care; started cutting stuff with a saw, digging a lot of holes, getting muddy.

I started living consciously. Started growing my own food and realized how good it felt to unsubscribe to degenerative capitalism and how much better it tasted. I started fly fishing for trout. I take my (big) disabled rescue dog with only five toes on adventures in the forest, in stroller with mountain bike wheels. I make Japanese basket sculptures from Ash and Elm trees. I’m cultivating Morel mushrooms which people say is hard to do. I don’t know, I just decided to try it yesterday.

*The Morel that spontaneously popped up outside my door.*

All of this—being outside—is why I know my product anti—is awesome. I use it daily. But the science behind it is also awesome. I didn’t develop it in a lab, rather the cosmic plane that is my consciousness.

My science is not accredited academic science. If it was, it’d be stuck in the funding stage or scooped up by big pharma. I like to call my science psuedoscience, which contrary to its name, I think is the real science. It’s the kind that’s not compromised by the rigidity of the scientific method, bureaucracy, and money. It’s the kind of science that’s made by people.

A few years ago I cancelled my streaming subscriptions on a crusade to generally unsubscribe from all-i-wanna-do-is-take-ur-money capitalism. Instead of streaming, I started reading science journals because many are free (and turns out the scientific method is a dope narrative format). After a years long obsession with the free knowledge that anyone can access, I learned an insane amount of crazy sh*t about ticks, mosquitoes, and plants and trees.

From there, I became interested in ethnobotany. I’ll let Google ai explain what that is:

Ethnobotany is the study of the relationship between people and plants, focusing on how different cultures use, perceive, and manage plants for various purposes, including food, medicine, and other cultural practices. It explores how plants have been used by different societies throughout history and across different regions, providing insights into cultural practices, ecological knowledge, and the development of traditional medicine.

Inspired by stories of indigenous traditions around the world, I wanted to find what our ancestors did, and prove them to be true. The materials they used as repellents were always abundant in their location natively, and specific to their climate. When I studied and tested the wild vegetation of my own land, I discovered the same principle to be true. Nature gives you everything you need, if you look to receive it.

The cones on the heads of the Egyptians in ancient hieroglyphics were said to be made of myrrh rendered with fat, which allowed it to melt slowly, covering their bodies as protection from the sun and insects. Based on chromatography data of the resin of the Commiphora tree I can say that is most probably true. But this was a long time ago, does it still hold up? What about Climate Change?

Climate Change has fueled the diaspora of insects, like the Zebra mosquito which is now present in the Northeast yet it originated in Asia. It’s also shifted the growing patterns of plants, and a change in climate conditions can sometimes change the chemical composition of them. For example, the Verbenone in the wild Rosemary from Spain can only be produced in the conditions of its specific environment, like salt air, high temps, and arid cliffs, which oxidize the plant’s terpenes to produce the particular Verbenone.

The sweetgrass on my land was used by the Mahicans, who once lived here, to repel mosquitoes. Sweetgrass works to repel some mosquitoes nowadays, but not the ones that migrated here more recently. Sweetgrass for example, turned out to be one part of the equation, but not the whole.

Nature provides what we need to solve problems. I discovered that nature provides, even in the world of climate change. In order to get something that truly works as a repellent in modern times, we need to view our earth, the planet, as “one” and therefore, it must be made from things globally.

So, following a trail of science and history I sourced specific plant compounds from around the world (from small ethical and organic growers). I combined them with the wild plants I cultivated on my land, mixed them in a bottle. Lastly, I added a sprinkle of emerging science (e.g. if static electricity is a pathway that helps ticks latch on to humans, what plants or minerals naturally help neutralize the positive electric chargeon our skin and clothing? etc etc).

The ingredients I make in Upstate New York are artisanally distilled in a copper still. The growing, harvesting and distillation process happens here, in one place. We create the essential oils and hydrosols using a low-slow heat method to get the highest quality extracts, with plant materials first cold-pressed.

Every part of the plant and byproduct of production are engaged in a circular system here where everything has purpose and regenerative value (check out my other project outside-influences.com). The roots, stems, flowers, bark, from one plant serve multiple roles to benefit multiple products, regenerative growing practices and a healthy land ecosystem. What goes into this product is the direct result of our effort to restore habitat for wildlife and pollinators, replenish groundwater resources and reconnect natural ecosystems in order to reclaim, protect and preserve our native landscape.

Copper still handmade by friends in Hungary.

I also grow some of my exotic non-native ingredients in order to deliver the most cost-efficient product. Vetiver for example, is native to India and Haiti, and it’s one we grow here year round (indoors in winter). It’s proven to be extremely beneficial to our landscape and ecosystem, and we just love this plant. However, we still combine and source Vetiver from Haiti, in order to add the particular quality and benefit that can only come from being indigenously grown, with the least environmental stress and native climate; for the optimal cellular production of the plant ingredient and the subsequent potency (the aforementioned ethnobotany climate change principle).

When we source globally, it’s from small growers like us who practice organic farming and wild cultivation. We believe buying from indigenous sources is the most ethically, economically and environmentally responsible—even more than doing it 100% on our own in an artificially conditioned greenhouse. Vetiver for example, employs many Haitians and the grass protects their landscape from erosion, which is a big problem there. So, not only can we help nature this way, we can help support communities and generational livelihoods beyond our backyard, which is important for the earth, too.

Tariffs make this all a lot harder, but sourcing globally in addition to what we cultivate in Upstate New York is essential to the whole equation that makes our product work and I won’t give it up. I just wish our economic policies were as advanced as science, nature and human civilization.

Until Next Time,

Namaste.

Pseudo-science is Real Science