Skincare is of course a scam
We're just scared
When I feel hopeless—sorry, when I feel paralyzed by gratitude—I crack open The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo and try to change my whole life. It doesn’t bother me that Marie Kondo’s philosophy of using what you already have to organize your belongings—shoeboxes, she says—is completely incompatible with her line at The Container Store. I love her, and I want her to get her bag, or her box, or whatever, and I love The Container Store. It is the definition of liminal, brimming with potential but devoid of anything substantive.
On this particular go-around, I decided to pull out every cosmetic and skincare product from every corner of my apartment. When I saw them all together, something clicked for me. But it wasn’t what I’d hoped. It was more like: Catherine, sweetie, what is this😃
Seeing it all together in my bathroom, which was so full I could barely open the door (to be fair, it is a tiny bathroom) really begged the question: if all—if any—of these products worked, why would I need so many? Skincare is a $130B industry, and there are only like 4 skincare products that actually work. And by work, I mean are clinically proven to change the skin, not just temporarily alter the outermost layer’s appearance, which is already dead.
Ready the tinfoil hat
Approximately four skincare products work. They are: