Why This Indie Beauty Brand Wants L’Oréal and Estée Lauder to Copy Them
Main image – Wildsmith
It’s a bright autumn morning when I meet Wildsmith’s General Manager, Katherine Pye, over Zoom – her passion for the brand is immediate even through a screen.
Half her week is spent at Somerset House in London, the other at Heckfield Estate, home to Heckfield Place and a restored 18th-century estate whose biodynamic gardens, arboretum, and spa birthed the brand. Wildsmith’s origin story is hospitality, not retail: formulas were made first for bedroom sinks and spa trays, then asked – by guests – to step out into the world.
What follows is a conversation about luxury as an environmental lever (not an excuse), the science beneath the romanticism, and why Wildsmith is actively hoping the biggest names in beauty adopt its packaging innovations – even if it means being copied.
From country house to living laboratory
The story of Wildsmith is inseparable from Heckfield Place itself – a Georgian estate that, until 2002, served as a corporate conference venue before the house and grounds were transformed into one of Britain’s most revered luxury hotels and wellness destinations.

Heckfield Place. Image – Wildsmith
Originally, skincare wasn’t part of the plan. “The team were simply looking at what should go into the bedrooms and spa,” Pye explains. But just as every decision relating to the transformation was rooted in intention, it was clear that every formula had to combine the sensory comfort of botanicals with bioactive, clinically tested ingredients that genuinely worked. Guests loved the products so much that Wildsmith quietly evolved from an in-house amenity into a fully fledged skincare line.
What began as something made for guests became something made with them – a lesson in organic growth that still defines the brand today.
The roots of a name
Wildsmith’s identity reaches back to the 1860s, when William Walker Wildsmith, the estate’s head gardener, planted the arboretum that still defines Heckfield’s landscape. His legacy lives on both in name and in practice: a dedicated team of arborists, led by Dom, now tends the grounds, cultivates rare species, and propagates Wildsmith’s original trees to share with other estates.
“It’s about diversity,” Pye says, describing their exchange of seeds with other landowners to prevent what she jokingly calls “tree incest.” Even humour here circles back to ecology. Beneath the surface, the arboretum operates as a living metaphor for the brand – rooted in tradition but continually branching outward.
Science, soil, and sound
That sensitivity to environment runs through everything at Heckfield, Pye tells me, from the biodynamic market garden that supplies both the hotel kitchens and the brand’s own ingredients (roses, lavender, chamomile, calendula), to the way staff diarise harvests based on lunar cycles. Roses are picked at dawn, when their essential oils are at their most potent.
Even sound becomes part of the sensory ecology. During the creation of the spa, the team commissioned a soundscape recorded entirely on the estate – birdsong, rustling leaves, the low hum of trees. Later, a biosonographer translated plant frequencies into music, mapping them onto human chakras.

The bothy at Heckfield Place. Image – Wildsmith
One ancient beech, Pye tells me, happens to resonate at the same frequency as the heart chakra. “It’s a beautiful example of nature and science speaking the same language,” she says.
“Made by many”
Unlike most beauty brands, Wildsmith doesn’t orbit a single founder’s vision. Instead, it operates on what Pye calls a “made by many” philosophy, with the day-to-day running of the brand lying in the hands of a small, expert-led team.
“My job,” Pye says, “is to collect specialists – the growers, the formulators, the spa directors, the psychologists – and make sure they can collaborate.” It’s a deliberately democratic structure, one that values expertise over ego. The result is a brand that feels both rigorously scientific and deeply human, driven not by personality but by shared purpose.
The price of progress
If Wildsmith’s roots are romantic, its approach to sustainability is almost clinical in its precision. When the team transitioned from glass jars to Vivomer, a biocompostable packaging material, it wasn’t a marketing flourish – it was a practical decision based on economics and environmental logic.
“Glass and Vivomer cost almost the same,” Pye explains. “That meant we could make the change without passing on extra cost to customers.” She’s quick to point out that this is one of the rare advantages of being a luxury brand: a small price increase isn’t a barrier to consumers in the way it would be at mass-market level. “Luxury allows us to underwrite better materials,” she says simply.

Image – Wildsmith
Still, the transition wasn’t seamless. When Wildsmith first launched the new packaging, they released a campaign showing it decomposing in soil. “We thought it was beautiful,” Pye admits. “But sales dropped. People didn’t want to see their £120 peptide cream turning back into earth.”
The lesson was clear: sustainability is powerful, but efficacy must come first. Once the brand rebalanced its message – leading with results, then sustainability – sales not only recovered, they exceeded previous levels. “Customers trusted us,” Pye says. “They assumed we’d made the responsible choice, but they needed reassurance that the product still performed.”
When “natural” isn’t always greener
One of Wildsmith’s most defining stances is also one of its most nuanced: that synthetic can sometimes be more sustainable.
“Many of our active ingredients are lab-grown,” Pye explains. “They often start as plant extracts but are synthesised for purity and consistency – and, crucially, for environmental reasons.” Large-scale monocrops of natural ingredients, she points out, can be as damaging as industrial agriculture. “A lavender field stretching across southern Spain can look idyllic,” she says, “but ecologically, it’s as destructive as any single crop.”

Image – Wildsmith
For Wildsmith, the goal is not purity for purity’s sake, but impact reduction without compromise. Every ingredient is evaluated through a sustainability lens – water use, land impact, yield – before it ever reaches a formulation.
Learning from failure
Experimentation runs through Wildsmith’s DNA – sometimes literally. The brand was one of the first to trial mycelium packaging, a living material grown from fungi. “I remember presenting it to Harrods,” Pye recalls, amused. “It was gently shedding spores onto the buyer’s table. But she took it.”
Some ideas stick, some don’t, but the brand’s willingness to try (and to fail) is, Pye believes, essential to genuine sustainability. “We describe ourselves as restless experimenters,” she says. “Because you can’t move forward without accepting a bit of mess along the way.”
The bigger picture
For all its innovation, Wildsmith remains a small player compared with the industry’s giants – which is precisely why it wants to be copied.
“Our production runs won’t change the world,” Pye says plainly. “But if L’Oréal or Estée Lauder start using compostable packaging at scale, that’s real impact.”
Rather than guarding suppliers or patents, Wildsmith shares them openly. “Sustainability shouldn’t be proprietary,” she adds. “If we’ve proved it’s possible to make clinically effective, luxurious skincare in responsible packaging, then the best outcome is that everyone else does it too.”
A new definition of luxury
In an industry still dominated by heavy glass, double-walled jars, and excess, Wildsmith’s restraint feels quietly radical. The brand’s aesthetic is elegant but pared back; its language, free of marketing bravado. It doesn’t preach, it practises – whether through tree propagation, biodynamic harvesting, or transparent ingredient sourcing.
As our conversation winds down, Pye reflects on what she hopes Wildsmith’s legacy will be. “To show that luxury and sustainability aren’t opposites,” she says. “That rigour and beauty can coexist. And that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is make it easy for others to copy you.”