In the nineteenth century, skincare was practical. Women used what worked to make their skin feel better—they cherished their grandmas’ recipes made with ingredients like tallow, honey, milk.

Skincare industry marketing has long focused on correction over content.

Then the twentieth century welcomed Madame C.J. Walker. She sold her excellent hair products and skincare to her friends, and their friends, and became America’s first female millionaire. Other women followed. Helena Rubinstein. Elizabeth Arden. Estée Lauder. 

Then, the gentlemen who owned the pharmacies and ran the big soap companies got a whiff of profits to be made. Like sweet cigar smoke, it called to them. They bought up small companies but couldn’t figure out how to rake in the dough. Then, one day, it dawned on some boardroom geniuses and their male-only advertising agencies that what they needed to do was hire women to help them market their goods — to women. Duh. 

In the 1910s and 1920s, copywriting for the beauty industry became one of the few entry points for women in corporate America. And those lady wordsmiths became indispensable. Why? Because they understood that women are good at problem solving.

So, they created lots of problems. And the products were the answers.

Thus began the litany of lies: “If only I were prettier, skinnier, lighter, blonder, younger, and so on.” Over and over again.

Consider some of these hogwash headlines that are guaranteed to make even the head cheerleader feel bad about herself:

  • “A skin you love to touch.” — Woodbury Soap Company (1911)
  • “Often a bridesmaid, but never a bride.” — Listerine (1920s)
  • “Is it true blondes have more fun?” — Clairol (1950s–1960s)
  • “The closer he gets, the better you look.” — Clairol Nice ’n Easy (1965)
  • “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” — L’Oréal (1973)

When skincare moved from the kitchen to mass manufacturing, what was in the jars and bottles stopped mattering as much. What mattered was that the customer believed her purchase would result in perfect skin—or Prince Charming. This led to many disappointing purchases and deep pockets for the big guys.

Good news. That party may be over. For the first time, anyone with a computer can take a product label photo and ask AI to assess what’s inside, and whether it justifies the price. AI can’t be your absolute source for science, and of course requires many grains of salt, but it’s pretty good at helping determine whether a $200 jar of the latest cream will do anything except smell and feel good.

This is great news for small-batch, independent companies that don’t compromise, don’t preserve their products to last forever, and have founders who still hold onto the reins of their formulas and dreams. Somewhere, Madame Walker is smiling.

We all know that there are no bad questions, but “What does my skin actually need?” is a much better question than, “What’s wrong with my skin… and me?” 

Brook Dougherty of Indio is the co-founder of JustUs Skincare and welcomes your questions. She can be reached at (310) 266.7171 or brook@justusskincare.com. For more information, visit justusskincare.com. 

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