How to Crawl Out of the Pandemic, II

Elevate Your Life Through Skincare

A Self-Care Path Through Many Products

In this period between omicron and her sub-variants, I’d like you to walk outside, put your arms in the air, angle your chin up, and feel the sun soaking into your cheeks and forehead. I want you to feel the wind awakening that part of you that isn’t irritable. In this fresh moment, I’d like to talk with you about your skin.

From Ivory Soap to La Roche Posay

I’ve thoughtfully considered my skin through time, culminating in a full understanding and plan that I will share with you here. But first, so you trust me, let me walk you through my life in five periods of skincare contemplation:

(1) When I was little, my family was loyal to Ivory Soap. I loved the pure smell, while sensing that perhaps it would be drying, all that purity. Not that I would have cared. I didn’t bathe carefully or often and I don’t come from people who supervise such things. I never had much acne so there was no reason to up my routine. But, I noticed the Noxzema. I heard the girls talk about it. I would use theirs at sleepovers. The tingly feel and smell seemed unmistakably grown, a symbol of a thoughtful life. My friends who used it were confident in their routines and eloquent in their explanations. I felt something lacking in my own self care.

(2) Later, in my twenties and thirties, I went through another formative period while living on equatorial islands. I knew that my half-hearted SPF process was insufficient for my long mid-day runs on Galápagos beaches, but my mind was elsewhere. I met and fell for a non-bathing (a theme?), jewelry-selling guy with wonderfully wild but problematic ways. We broke up and I did the sadness as I think one should. I listened to endless musical loops of melancholy (American Music Club, Nina Simone) and anger (Liz Phair, Alannis). I lived in a friend’s apartment above his new girlfriend’s house, and watched the two of them come and go. I stayed out late and drank more than I ever have. I looked in the mirror and saw my first wrinkles. I studied them, understanding love fully and dramatically as an agent of change and a prelude to death.

(3) I enrolled in grad school and met people from class levels I never knew existed. I began to understand the wide variety of designer products available to humans. I struggled to digest the array and to understand my place within it. Those products, I noted, were not only agents of beauty and love but also tools to fight decay, to calm existential angst. Neutrogena and Olay, at first, seemed like the height. But then, as different non-profit jobs and teaching fellowships brought prosperity, I’d shop the fancier shelves at Target, watching the prices rise as I moved across, pulling the extravagance into my hands, soaking up the ingredients and promises, and walking out of the place a new woman.

(4) As I had my first baby and started weekending with academic friends who seemed to feel a more natural connection to these products, I learned about Cetaphil and RoC. You can buy these at Costco. They’re like these little secrets that seem to originate somewhere higher up? Common sense luxury? Were these products smarter? I used that Facial Cleanser and the Wrinkle Resurfacing System through four children and my first big job.

(5) When I left that big job to be more present for my kids and husband, I dabbled in La Roche Posay. My value seemed to dip with age and caretaking. In some ways, La Roche Posay was a revenge product against those humans who were sucking away my value. It was expensive and French, but available at Target? It held me through the angry years, but I’m in a better place now.

The Final Regimen

I want you to know that I now have it all figured out. Walk with me:

I went to a dermatologist. I wanted my kids to experience self-care. I wanted them to have braces and retinols, products lacking in my mid-western childhood. So, as they became adolescents, I signed us up. I was intrigued as the doctor took in the faces of my children and then splashed us with medical terminology, antibiotics, hormone treatments, lotions, sunscreens, replenishers, strippers, plumpers, rejuvenators. It was exhilarating.

I scheduled an appointment for myself, a skin check — a medical evaluation. On the dermatologist’s website, you can choose between a medical evaluation and a cosmetic evaluation. Choosing the medical felt prudent, frugal, sensible, but I knew why I was really there. The doctor who beautified my children was now inspecting my moles and freckles for melanoma. As she delicately removed one odd bump from my nose, I casually inquired about wrinkles. She gently reminded me that there are cosmetic appointments for such concerns but she had the information ready in her brain as she empathetically cauterized the hole on the side of my face.

You start with a face wash, she explained. She recommended CeraVe which comes in “Cream to Foam,” “Acne,” “Hydrating,” etc. It’s dizzying. Pick one that seems to call to you or pick the one that is on sale. I imagine that you can just use what you have on hand, as long as someone told you that it’s gentle. This seems to be a key word for facewash — gentle.

A. After you wake up, use CeraVe or Cetaphil. If you bought the more expensive CeraVe for your child, sneak that. Otherwise, just use the Cetaphil that you already have. Apply it to a wet face in circles, because why not?!

Then, she suggested I use a vitamin C serum. She told me about this great kind but it costs a hundred dollars. I googled, “best vitamin C serums” and found so much information including “best bargain vitamin C serums.” I triangulated lists from Real Simple, Allure, and the Strategist and came to Serumtologie Vitamin C Serum. It is still a bit out of my budget and I don’t know if it’s worth anything, really, but it makes me feel like a queen, and that’s good enough.

B. Apply Serumtologie Vitamin C Serum. Gently pat it into your skin, especially around the eye area. My daughter’s friend does this patting. She has beautiful skin and seems to know what she’s doing. Use 5-8 drops, as the bottle says. Or, just squeeze some on your hand and put it on your face and neck. Ends up, the dropper conveniently holds about 5-8 drops.

After the serum dries, use a lotion. The dermatologist recommended CeraVe again. There are AM and PM versions. The AM has sunscreen in it but she suggested the kids and I mix a little Elta MD in with the PM version. I guess Zinc Oxides are the way to go with sunscreen. Apparently, acne scars get darker with sun so this was particularly important for the kids. I boiled it down for us like this:

C. Use moisturizer, CeraVe or Cetaphil. Put on sunscreen: Elta MD if you’re feeling content, La Roche Posay if you’re angry.

The lovely doctor actually wrote all of these skincare products down on a card for me, God bless her. On one side, she included the morning regimen, above. On the other side, she listed the evening steps.

D. Before you go to bed, wash your face again with the same stuff. A night face washing always seemed excessive to me but I’m doing it. I really feel the self-care in these moments.

Next, she clearly but quietly said something about Differin Gel. She wrote it down too, furtively. Was she was generously sharing a trade secret with me? Differin is an adapalene which is a retinoid. Apparently, retinoid is the bigger umbrella category and retinol is like the less potent sub-category. Adepalene is among the strongest of the over-the-counter category. And—this is weird—apparently retinoids are just derivatives of vitamin C. I don’t know how Differin Gel is different from the Vitamin C serum above but this is when faith comes in my friends. Just believe. Vitamin C serum for the day, Differin at night. I drink apple cider vinegar in a glass of water every morning. My logical brain doesn’t really believe that there’s anything to this but I still do it. Faith feels good.

When my Differin arrived, I was confused and thought I might have ordered the wrong thing because it’s clearly labeled as an acne medicine. I looked into it though and Differin is supposed to be surprisingly great for aging skin! I love the generic looking tube. It makes me feel like I’m in the know.

E. Use just a little bit of Differin Gel. People always talk about pea-sized applications. Peas seem awfully small to me.

F. Use a lotion. Whatever.

I use the night lotions that my husband buys for me (the most expensive of the Olays). I feel the love. The dermatologist recommended CeraVe Night Cream but at this point, I started to wonder if her dermatological practice was in with the CeraVe people. Faith and a bit of skepticism are a healthy combination.

I’ve been faithful to this regimen for weeks now, maybe two weeks. I’m not sure if I look different at all. I think it’s supposed to take some time. But in any case, I think my wrinkles are fine. I think yours are quite nice too, by the way.

I wouldn’t have coated my body in baby oil in my teen years if I knew what I know now and I’ll make damn sure that my kids don’t. But I won’t regret what I can’t change. I remember liking how pretty that oil felt as it turned me red. I have been impetuous in my adventures (no sunglasses, coverups, SPF) and this has burned me along the way. I suppose that’s okay. Those adventures have created me.

I don’t regret the years of anxious smiles, tugging at my skin. I was shy when I was little. Somewhere along the line, I learned that if I smiled, I wouldn’t have to speak. It became a habit and brought me lots of friends and maybe even some success. I told my daughter and my sons this secret as they passed through shy and it has helped them. Now, I sometimes wonder about smiles, how anxiety and worry push them up, hiding what’s more sincere. I’m not sure what to make of the cultural markers of smiling — North American goofiness, female compliance, a lack of seriousness that is prudent in certain occasions. I don’t regret having to figure it all out, with so many lines.