Sephora tweens aren’t the only ones obsessed with skincare they don’t need

When I was a tween, I was obsessed with St Ives Apricot Scrub. I spent more time than I care to admit thinking about it, saving up for it, shopping for it, smelling it, then ultimately using it more often than was recommended on my unblemished, 11-year-old skin. I wasn’t a cool girl, but with the right brand of skincare, I could pretend to be.

So when I heard the internet was getting excited about tweens buying grown-up products from bougie skincare stores, I wasn’t that surprised. The kids of today might have swapped Impulse for Sol de Janeiro and St Ives for Drunk Elephant, but the idea of beauty products as a status symbol is nothing new. Tweens have always worn mum’s lipstick to feel more sophisticated, only now they’re copying influencers and the lipstick must be Charlotte Tilbury. And they’re keeping the box.

Save the skincare for when you actually need it. Credit: iStock

The problem is, many people argue, that tweens don’t need these products. They don’t have any skincare “concerns”, such as acne or fine lines or pigmentation. Save the serums for later, experts say, when you need it.

But when do we need it? My mum is 64, has never used a serum, and her face has yet to fall off. We might want our skin to be clearer or younger-looking, more dewy, radiant or glazed, but we don’t require these things to function, to thrive. And yet, we talk about a “skincare routine” as we do exercise or brushing our teeth – a healthy habit, an act of self-care, a wellness ritual.

I’ve often marvelled at how, when a cool beauty brand hypes a new product, people are desperate for it before the drop. They flood the brand’s Instagram with thirsty comments like “omg need”, “take my money” and “i’m so excited I can’t wait to try this”. They don’t need it – they don’t even know what it is yet – but still, they want it.

In her 2023 exposé on cult skincare brand Glossier, journalist Marisa Meltzer explored how the success of such products is as much about marketing as performance. “Is there a perceived sense of prestige?” she asked. “Are cool and influential people wearing the brand? Because, frankly, there’s not a great deal of difference on a chemical or ingredient level between many products.”

I’m such a sucker for this marketing magic. During my 20s, I spent thousands of dollars on “it-girl” skincare and yet, I still had acne. For years I traversed the vicious cycle of breakouts and treatments, my confidence eroding as the promises on the packaging failed me once again.

And still, I adored skincare. I loved going to MECCA and walking home with the dream of a better life in my hot little hands. I was like a grown-up version of the Sephora tween, shelling out my hard-earned cash on potions and serums that weren’t doing anything – and might have been making my skin worse.

It wasn’t until I stopped using 95 per cent of my products that my skin started to heal. Seriously. My routine these days consists of SPF and jojoba oil and my skin has never been better. Dermatologists and aestheticians agree that “less is more” when it comes to products, urging people to forgo their trendy routines in favour of something simple.

There’s a reason tweens love skincare. It’s because we – as a society – taught them to. This is not about blaming parents or influencers or even skincare companies – everyone’s just doing their job and doing their best.

But when we made skincare so cool that children are willing to fill their Christmas lists with products that are nothing more than expensive ornaments, when we continue to buy into the fantasy of beauty in a bottle despite poor results, we have reached peak capitalism. And maybe we should consider that a little harder. We’re the ones giving these products the prestige they command, with our dollars, our comments, our follows and our reviews. And together, we have the power to change it.

So the next time you feel the urge to try out some new product, take a beat and consider what you are trying to achieve? Is it status? Is it health? Is it youth? Is it the illusion of control? Is it going to do anything? Or are you just looking for a little dopamine boost, in which case, might I suggest a walk?

The kids are watching. Let’s give them something better to look at.

Bella Westaway is a freelance writer and editor.