Health and Beauty

Skin Care Koreatown Los Angeles

How to not get sucked into the online skincare vortex

My relationship with my skin is bumpy at best. 

Like many adolescents who had the misfortune of going through puberty, my body became my nemesis as soon as I turned 14. As I grew out of my cherubic cheeks and into a mostly formed human, my T-zone became a foreign landscape pitted with scarred valleys from my impatient picking, covered with volcanic zits ready to erupt with teenage self loathing. Like many adolescents riddled with acne, I turned to the internet for help.

The first time I smeared a stranger's advice onto my face, I was trying to erase a particularly nasty pimple the night before the first day of eighth grade. Desperate to smooth over my skin, I mixed lemon juice and baking soda into a paste and packed it onto the little pink spot before bed. The next morning, the zit, which had started out as a mildly annoying bump on my forehead, had turned into a fiery open wound, bubbling with lava from the depths of hell. During that first phase of trying to control my skin, I tried everything from spinning brushes to exfoliating apricot scrubs recommended by listicles. In the end, my four-year crusade against acne wasn't won by furiously washing off the top layer of my skin, but by going on the pill and actually starting to use lotion.