BALTIMORE - The smell of cocoa butter fills the air as bubbling oils are poured into white drums, whisked into a foaming mass and left to cool.

Another part of the factory -- which takes up room on three floors of a Baltimore storefront -- fills with fruity smells as owner Jamyla Bennu, 35, and husband Pierre, 37, test scented oils as their youngest son coos from a stroller parked protectively in an office.

Since starting up in 2005, Oyin Handmade has commanded a loyal following for their quirky hair and body products and right-on sensibilities. Along with pomades, lotions, soaps and conditioners obsessively formulated with natural ingredients, Oyin offer t-shirts with slogans like "Black Nerds Unite," as well as illustrated books.

What started as a hobby for Jamyla turned into a business when the couple realized they wanted to work together, and start a family. Jamyla was doing a PhD at New York University and Pierre was working on Wall Street, and under so much stress his hair was falling out in patches, he said. They saw a nine-to-five future looming and decided to go their own way. "We were trying to build a life together that was self-supporting," Jamyla explains.


Both artists, they tried everything that looked like it could turn into a solid business. They made a film together, and published a book of advice Pierre regularly gave to struggling artist friends. Jamyla was building websites, and Pierre would DJ at parties around New York, where they were based at the time. If the hustle didn't work out, they'd move on to the next thing, following the motto: "We're only funding what funds itself," said Jamyla.

But the one thing that eventually stuck was completely unintentional. A product junkie, Jamyla would mix grocery store ingredients into hair oils and body butters in an attempt to find products that worked with her hair and body. "When we made a batch, there'd always be extra, and our friends were like, 'Hey can I get the extra?'" said Pierre. They started selling batches at artists gatherings and launched an online store in 2005. That year, they made $80,000 in sales. In 2010, their online sales alone were close to $410,000.


And they did it all without borrowing a dime, building the business slowly, with revenue from sales. "We didn't have a lot of money, our credit was not in the best of shape, we had come from a personal economic downturn," Jamyla said. Not taking on any debt also meant hard choices, like turning away larger orders from some stores and salons.

But part of that decision was pragmatic. The couple was part of the first wave of artists and musicians who helped turn the New York City borough of Brooklyn into a cultural capital, only to be pushed out. "I saw the gentrification of Brooklyn -- the deli turning into a sushi restaurant with no one that looks like us in it -- I was like, I cannot let that happen again," said Pierre. So the couple relocated to Baltimore, determined to build a community they couldn't be displaced from, and a business that would support that.

"We want to live well and we want to employ people," said Jamyla. "And it feels good to make something that goes out into the world and touches people and makes them feel good about themselves."