In the mid-19th century, cosmetics widely used by Western women and men often contained substances now recognized as toxic. One early documented medical case connected severe illness to facial cosmetics: a patient examined and reported around March 11 in the late 1860s suffered symptoms consistent with lead poisoning after prolonged use of lead-containing face powder. Contemporary medical journals and reports of the era increasingly recorded such associations as physicians began to classify and publicize occupational and domestic sources of poisoning. Lead white (basic lead carbonate) was a common pigment in artists’ materials and cosmetic powders, prized for its opaque, matte finish and ability to smooth the appearance of skin. Women applied such powders regularly to achieve the fashionable pale complexion of the period. Repeated topical application, especially to skin that was broken or abraded, could allow lead compounds to be absorbed; ingestion occurred when powder was transferred from fingers to mouth or mixed with other substances. Symptoms reported in cases attributed to cosmetic lead exposure included chronic gastrointestinal distress, abdominal pain, weakness, headaches, and neurological signs such as wrist or foot drop—symptoms that match descriptions of lead poisoning in modern clinical literature. Physicians in the 19th century, while lacking today’s laboratory confirmatory tests, relied on symptom patterns, the patient’s history, and exclusion of other causes to link illness with cosmetic use. Such a March 11 case became part of a growing body of anecdotal and clinical evidence prompting medical commentary on the dangers of certain beauty practices. The medical and public reaction to these reports was mixed. Some clinicians used such cases to warn the public and advocate for safer preparations, while manufacturers and dealers of cosmetics often resisted restrictions. Regulatory oversight was minimal compared with modern standards; public health campaigns and consumer protections that later limited or banned lead in cosmetics did not emerge until decades afterward. Historical accounts therefore reflect an evolving understanding: physicians recognized harm but lacked the regulatory tools and widespread public education to eliminate hazardous products quickly. Historians of medicine and material culture view these early documented poisonings as significant for several reasons. They show how everyday consumer choices intersected with industrially produced materials, reveal the gendered dimensions of risk (women being the primary consumers of beauty powders), and illustrate how medical knowledge about chronic toxic exposures developed incrementally. The case dated to March 11 in the late 1860s is representative rather than unique—similar instances appear throughout the 19th century as clinicians reported poisons from cosmetics, patent medicines, and household products. Limitations and uncertainties: primary sources from the period sometimes omit precise dates or provide inconsistent details; the exact year associated with the March 11 entry in surviving summaries is not consistently recorded in secondary literature. Diagnostic certainty was also limited by the era’s medical tools—clinicians inferred causation from clinical pattern and exposure history rather than modern biochemical assays. For these reasons, scholars treat the March 11 report as an important early documented instance of cosmetic-related poisoning while acknowledging gaps in the archival record. By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, accumulating evidence from clinical reports, chemical analyses, and public health advocacy contributed to reforms and safer cosmetic formulations. The March 11 case remains a reminder that popular beauty practices can carry hidden hazards and that recognition of such risks often emerges slowly through clinical observation, reporting, and social debate.