Hype in a Jar

iStock photo.

By Valerie Monroe

Can’t get enough Valerie Monroe? There’s more at https://valeriemonroe.substack.com.

AN INTERESTING thing happened last week that got me thinking about our vulnerabilities and why even the most knowledgeable, sophisticated players in the beauty game still swing at the marketing fastballs perpetually pitched our way.

I met an old friend for dinner. By “old” I mean she’s six months my junior (so about 70) and I’ve known her since we were in our early 20s. She’s the person most instrumental in getting me hired at my first job in magazine journalism. Because I hadn’t seen her in such a long time, I wondered how she would look compared with how she looked more than 40 years ago, which I remember very well. She was a smoker (as was I), we both liked to drink, and she had moved from New York City to a destination known for its outdoor activities, many of which she partakes in—so all-in-all, I expected a beautiful . . . well-worn face.

As I was being shown to my (outdoor) table, she came up behind me for a surprise hug. And in the instant before we embraced, I saw her face close to mine, as close as is possible without a kiss. She looked miraculous—exactly the same as I remembered her but with appropriate age, some crow’s feet, and mostly a softening around the jawline. Skin like you see on a baby’s ass. Sparkling blue eyes. As we downloaded ancient and recent histories, all I could do was marvel at her condition, which was how I imagine we could look if we all ate from our own vegetable gardens and spent every day ambling awestruck through wildflowers. You know—Walt Whitman with sunscreen.

We asked each other a thousand questions. But one question I didn’t ask was, “What are you using on your skin?” Because I know why she looks the way she does. It’s a simple combination of sun protection and genetics, in which she clearly won the skin lottery. (Actually, at some point she volunteered the only stuff she uses on her face: warmed-up coconut oil removed with a cotton pad soaked in Al wadi rose water. To which I went, What???)

A few days after our supper, she emailed me a link to a story about several beauty products movie stars line up to buy—and, if you’re wealthy and lucky enough to get them, they’ll change your life. You want to know what they are, right? I did, too. One of them is a pricey moisturizer I’ve tried and like almost as well as the $11 one I use every day; the writer of the story reported that the pricey option gave her the same results as Botox. In other words, this writer was either hallucinating or angling for a PR position. There were similar kinds of claims about the other products, all of which I’m familiar with and would never suggest you spend money on (except for this vitamin C serum, which is potentially helpful but not necessary).

The thing is, my friend wrote to say that she reads my posts—the same ones you’ve been reading—so she knows there’s lots of marketing involved in the beauty business, and she was afraid she was asking a stupid question but . . . What about these products? Were they actually different? Were they actually better?

This woman with gorgeous skin, a lively and critically gifted mind, and a skincare routine clearly unique to her, why did she wonder about this? Here’s why: Because the tone of the story was, Sure, there are lots of bogus claims in the beauty aisles, but these are the products that are really, really worth the money.

This is what got me thinking about why, even when we know better, we’re still vulnerable to hope in a jar. Some fantasies are particularly hard to relinquish, especially when they’re constantly reinforced by advertising and the manipulated images we see on social media, the perfection disguised as real life. And of course, there’s the high we get—temporary, but still—from buying something new and waiting for it to perform its magic.

On the luminous Jack Kornfield podcast, Heart Wisdom, Kornfield tells the story of when he decided, reluctantly, to reveal to his young daughter that there was no tooth fairy. She had just lost a tooth, and a friend encouraged him to tell the truth about where the lucre under her pillow came from. She was in bed when Kornfield told her, “Honey, there is no tooth fairy. I’m the tooth fairy.” There was some confusion, he says, then lots of tears. They snuggled. Finally, his daughter looked up at him. “But, Daddy,” she said. “What do you wear?”

This, my friends, is us. No matter how often we hear the truth, we will find a way to keep hope alive. I think it’d be lovely—don’t you?—if we weren’t so consistently disappointed.

So here’s a reminder to please continue your mirror gazing. The fairy you’ll find there is a much better one to bank on.

“Ask Val” answers your urgent questions, Vol. 6

Yes, you in the third row quietly weeping into her sleeve.

Q: Isn’t there anything left for me to buy? Or are you going to tell me about more things I’ve loved that aren’t worth the money?

A: Have a tissue. These are the best I’ve ever used. They’re four-ply, the size of a regular (versus pocket) tissue, and they’re available either unscented or in lavender (which smells like a high-end spa) or mint. And they’re worth every penny.

But yes, there are three more things you may as well skip.

Forget about treatment cleansers. Though a formula with salicylic acid or benzoyl peroxide can help with acne-prone skin, and one with glycolic acid can reveal smoother skin through exfoliation, cleansers that claim benefits due to antioxidants or vitamins won’t affect your complexion. Because . . . you wash them off.

The same goes for slimming creams. Caffeine and other ingredients are often combined in these creams to temporarily plump the skin’s surface, making it appear smoother and slightly reducing the appearance of cellulite, but whatever results you get will be minimal (and, as I said, temporary).

And since a reader called Wanda recently asked (thank you, Wanda!) if it’s worth investing in facials, here’s my 2 cents. As I told her, they can be relaxing and give you a temporary glow. But better to invest in a daily skincare system (with sunscreen) that exfoliates, moisturizes, and provides treatment benefits (like smoother, brighter skin) from vitamins A, C, and E.

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