Huda Durrani is an Actor and Creative whose work is shaped by a love of cinema, visual storytelling, and thoughtful observation. Fascinated by the art of storytelling in all its forms, she creates work that celebrates the quiet details that often leave the greatest impression.

What’s your name and where do you consider home?

My name is Huda, and being in my childhood home with family.

Describe yourself in three words?

Thoughtful, curious and empathetic

What’s your #1 summer beauty secret?

I think beauty always starts from within. Prioritising your health, protecting your peace, and consistently caring for yourself creates a kind of radiance that no skincare routine can replicate.

What’s a beauty ritual that connects you to home or your heritage?

My mother used to oil my hair, and it was one of those quiet rituals that felt so ordinary at the time but means so much more in retrospect. It’s a beautiful reminder that the simplest acts of care are often the ones that stay with us the longest.

Has there been a moment that fundamentally changed your relationship with beauty?

When I was younger, my mother was always strict about what I could use. It wasn’t until my late teenage years that I started experimenting with it, but even then I just didn’t feel the need to use it. I think, because of that, I had become so comfortable just being in my skin, so when I started using beauty products, I wanted to enhance a little rather than change.

Is there a daily ritual or habit that helps you feel grounded, especially during busy seasons?

Every evening before bed, I sit on the edge of my bed and slowly apply hand cream, eye cream, and lip balm. It’s a simple ritual, but it feels like a gentle way of saying goodbye to the day before welcoming the next. Those few quiet moments remind me to slow down, and I always end the day feeling a little more grounded.

How do you think personal style can shape or challenge our understanding of beauty?

I think personal style reminds us that beauty doesn’t have to follow a single definition. I’ve always approached getting dressed with a “try not to overthink it” mindset, and that philosophy naturally extends to beauty. I keep things simple. Most days it’s just SPF, perfume, and lip balm, saving makeup for occasions. For me, style and beauty are at their best when they feel like an authentic expression of who you are, rather than something you feel pressured to do.

We love your Film Club series—what inspired it and what are you diving into next?

Thank you so much. My journey to becoming an actor inspired it. I’m fascinated by every creative decision that goes into filmmaking, from costume and cinematography to complex characters, so Film Club became a way to share that curiosity. I’m looking forward to exploring more international cinema, revisiting timeless classics, and highlighting stories that challenge the way we see the world.

If you could leave readers with one thought about beauty, what would it be?

Beauty should make us feel more at home in ourselves, not more distant from who we are. The best beauty rituals don’t ask us to become someone else. They help us recognise, celebrate, and care for the person who’s already there.

Guest post by Viv Chen

Color is at the core of my personal style. Even before I learned to dress myself as a teenager, I was always fascinated by color theory—how they mix, interact, and create specific moods. In art class, I would get lost in a palette of primary colors, trying to see how many shades of purple I could make from a dollop of cyan blue and cadmium red. The answer was: infinite.

Today, color combos are a major influence in how I approach fashion and beauty. I’m not necessarily in search of colors that “flatter” my skin tone, i.e. seasonal color analysis. Instead, I’m interested in the magic that happens when you combine colors that evoke palpable emotions and memories. Like the jubilant wisteria purple in your childhood bedroom walls or faded cobalt blue of an upholstered bus seat.

When I see a color I’m captivated by, I snap a photo and save it to a folder on my phone. Then, I translate the images into outfits by holding the photo up to clothes in my closet and seeing which ones color match the most accurately. It’s not essential for it be an *exact* match, but I do try to get pretty close!

Here are some unexpected places I find color inspiration.

Seasonal Fruit

Perhaps the biggest perk of living in the Bay Area is the access to seasonal produce. Seeing what the grocery store has in store is such a visual anchor in my everyday life. And during the summer, restaurants always have some sort of seasonal fruit drink on the menu, like peach perilla spritz or honeydew melon agua fresca. What makes these colors interesting—rather than just “pretty to look at”—is that I see them as markers of a hyperseasonal window of time. This shade of orange is distinctly late summer. In a few weeks, when the first whisper of autumn rolls around, the orange colors will look less like peach and more like squash.

Channeling melon colors by layering two tank tops—the green one is a near perfect match for honeydew. I wore a polka dot skirt because the dots remind me of fruit seeds. This outfit makes me feel carefree and mischievous; I can feel the sun on my shoulders and the breeze ruffling the bottom of my skirt.

And who can resist a tray of glossy dark cherries? Nature’s best lip stain. There’s something dramatic and moody about this shade of red. I think in my heart of hearts, the color that feels the most “me” is red. Growing up in a Chinese-American household, I learned that red was the most auspicious and festive color. My grandma in particular would always approve of my outfit whenever I showed up to her apartment wearing red. Now, I gravitate towards red when I feel like I need a bit of luck on a given day!

The Work of Hilma af Klint

Credited as one of the first abstract artists in Western history, Hilma af Klint’s paintings transport me to floaty spiritual dimensions. I’m drawn to her use of secondary colors in particular—marigold oranges and ripe purples. Her work is what made me fall in love with “dreamscape” prints on clothing, like this vintage Issey Miyake skirt.

These colors pair well in silk fabric, which makes the hues gleam and feel alive. This is a vintage dress, which I’ve dressed up with a floral corsage.

Ice Cream

Is there anything more joyous than walking into an ice cream shop and seeing all the flavors laid out in tubs like makeup color swatches? The creamy texture gives the colors a pastel effect. Here’s a Neapolitan trio scoop I ordered at a gelateria in Rome. Chocolate brown and strawberry pink never get old; it’s a comforting color combo that evokes the innocence and simplicity of summertime.

You can also play with all the colors between pink and brown, all those clay hues. Like here, I’m wearing a mesh Vivienne Tam skirt full of brown gradients with a pale pink vintage leather jacket that has the same creamy effect as a scoop of strawberry ice cream.

Noticing colors is a lifelong practice for me. It’s how I see the beauty in everything, even in things that might be considered ugly, or flawed. Even a bruise can turn into a beguiling shade of purple. Even mold can look like a pink cotton candy sunset.

Written by Alice Lin Glover, cofounder EADEM
To introduce Churro de Canela, Alice reflects on after-school Costco churros, her children’s family history and why cultural storytelling and clinical performance have always been inseparable at EADEM.

I didn’t grow up with a family family churro recipe.

I grew up begging my mom to buy me the Costco churro after school. If you know, you know.

It was warm, crunchy, covered in cinnamon sugar and almost comically long. At the time, it was simply my favorite treat. I didn’t know that years later, one taste could return me to such a specific version of myself.

That is the strange thing about memory. Sometimes, a whole childhood can live inside something very small.

Warm dough. Cinnamon sugar on your fingers. The crunch of a treat you were too impatient to let cool.

But the memory is rarely only about the food. It includes the whole scene around it: who was beside you, how the room sounded and the person you were then. It can return you to the teasing, interruptions and freedom of being completely yourself around the people who knew you first.

Remembering gives us a way to revisit where we have been—not to remain there, but to understand what shaped us and decide what we want to carry forward.

Different histories, familiar family dynamics

Our team at EADEM represents many cultures, countries and family histories. Those experiences are not interchangeable, but certain family dynamics are instantly recognizable.

The aunties whose commentary could be loving and devastating in the same sentence. The cousins who took over the house while the adults stayed up far too late. Falling asleep on someone else’s couch, fully dressed, waiting for your parents to decide it was finally time to leave.

Or the particular fear of realizing your mother was almost home and you had forgotten to defrost the chicken or start the rice.

The foods, languages and homes may be different. The feelings often need very little explanation.

These warm, specific memories have always shaped the shades and stories we create at EADEM. Bissap Glaze carries Marie’s connection to the hibiscus drink that is found throughout West Africa and is central to her Ivorian heritage. Boba Bounce nods to my Taiwanese American childhood. They are not intended to represent an entire culture. They are personal entry points into larger worlds.

Family history, not found imagery

The photographs that open the Churro de Canela campaign come from my mother-in-law Carmen’s family albums in Querétaro, Mexico, dating from approximately the 1920s through the 1960s.

They aren’t anonymous references pulled from a moodboard. They are part of my children’s family history—and a world I want them to remain close to.

My own Costco churro memory is not the same as Carmen’s family history. One belongs to my very American childhood; the other connects my children to generations of their Mexican family. This campaign does not ask those stories to become one. It allows them to sit beside each other.

That distinction matters.

At a time when difference is too often used to question who belongs, we want EADEM to make room for many ways of being. We believe people can recognize something of themselves in another person’s story without requiring that story to become generic first.

To honor a culture is not to flatten it into something universally palatable. It is to stay with the details: where something comes from, who lived it and who continues to carry it forward.

A beauty product cannot resolve the difficult realities surrounding immigrant families or erase the pressure many people feel to make themselves easier to understand. But every brand makes choices about what it considers worthy of care and attention.

We can choose to name where our ideas come from. We can credit the people who share their histories with us. We can resist treating culture as decoration added after the real work is complete.

Culture is not the finishing touch

At EADEM, culture is not an aesthetic layered onto a finished product. It shapes what we make from the beginning.

The name, shade, scent, imagery and emotional emotional world of Churro de Canela were developed together. The campaign’s sisters-and-cousins energy is immediate and alive: women women interrupting one another, trading looks, reaching for each other’s things without asking and laughing at a joke that began before we entered the room.

The churro is the sensory entry point. Warm dough. Cinnamon sugar. Something best eaten before it cools.

The larger story is the particular freedom of being with women who know every version of you. Here, love is expressed through teasing, noise and complete ease.

These ideas were not written after the product was finished to give it a story. They are part of why the product exists.

Where science meets soul

Emotion, however, is never a substitute for performance.

For us, “science meets soul” means the product must carry both.. Soul gives the product meaning and context. Science determines whether it deserves a place in your daily routine.

Churro de Canela is a soft, cool-toned brown created to give lips effortless definition with plush, glossy shine across a wide range of skin tones. Its Warm Cinnamon Sugar scent recalls the comforting sweetness of a freshly made churro.

Underneath the shade and scent is the clinically tested Le Chouchou Lip Softening Balm formula: a daily peptide lip treatment proven to soften, smooth and deeply moisturize dry, flaky lips.

Gentle Hibiscusiscus Flower Acids support the lips’ natural renewal process, while Brazilian Açaí and African Mongongo butters deliver deep, lasting moisture. The cushiony formula leaves lips glossy without feeling sticky, and our signature sculpted metal applicator feels cooling and soothing with every swipe.

The tube, weight, finish, proportions and applicator went through countless iterations when we first created Le Chouchou. The shade and story may change, but that same level of care remains.

The treat you never outgrew

Churro de Canela began with a very ordinary memory: a child asking her mother for a treat after school.

It grew into a conversation about the things our team remembers, the histories we want our children to know and the responsibility of telling culturally specific stories without flattening them.

That is what a churro can hold.

CHURRO DE CANELA

Childhood favorite. Grown-up lip treatment. Same carefree feeling.

With gratitude,
Alice

Churro de Canela Le Chouchou Lip Softening Balm arrives September 1, 2026, on the Sephora app and September 2, 2026, on EADEM.co, at Sephora and on TikTok Shop.

There’s a conversation happening online right now about Le Chouchou. Specifically: about whether you can — or should — use it every day.

Some of you have noticed that if you rub your lips together after applying it, small rolls of dead skin come away. And some of you have understandably wondered whether that means the balm is exfoliating too aggressively, whether it’s thinning your lip barrier, or whether daily use is safe.

I want to talk about this openly, because the answers are grounded in some genuinely fascinating biology — and once you understand what’s actually happening on your lips, I think a lot of the concern melts away.

Start with your fingers after a bath

If you’ve ever soaked in a bath for a long time and then rubbed your fingers together, you’ve seen this before. Little pieces of softened skin come away.

The water didn’t exfoliate you. It simply softened the outermost layer of your skin — the stratum corneum — allowing dead cells that were already at the end of their life cycle to release more easily.

This is the same phenomenon that’s happening on your lips with Le Chouchou.

What’s actually happening

Le Chouchou is a deeply moisturizing formula. Its rich, occlusive base locks moisture into the surface of your lips, softening the built-up dead skin that accumulates there naturally, until it loosens and sheds on its own.

That process — skin naturally letting go of cells it was already ready to release — has a name. It’s called desquamation, and it’s your skin’s normal cycle of renewal. It happens on your body every day, whether you’re paying attention or not.

When you see it on your lips after using Le Chouchou, it’s not a sign that healthy skin is being stripped away. It’s a sign that your lips are becoming better hydrated, and that a natural process is being made visible.

Desquamation is not the same as aggressive exfoliation

This is the distinction that matters most.

Desquamation is your skin’s natural, ongoing renewal — letting go of what it was already ready to release. Aggressive chemical exfoliation forces the process, breaking down healthy skin before it’s ready.

They can look similar from the outside. Biologically, they are very different things.

“But I can actually see little rolls of skin come off”

I know. And I understand why that feels dramatic.

When softened dead skin gathers together as you press or rub your lips, it can look like far more is happening than actually is. What you’re mostly seeing is skin that was already at the end of its life cycle — now visible because it’s been softened and gently released, all at once.

About those acids

The concern I’ve seen most often is about the actives in the formula — specifically the lactic acid and the hibiscus flower acids. It’s worth pausing on both, because context matters enormously here.

Lactic acid is a molecule your body already makes. It’s part of your skin’s Natural Moisturizing Factor — the internal system your skin uses to hold onto moisture. Lactic acid is famously dual-purpose in cosmetic chemistry: at a low pH and high concentration, it exfoliates. At a higher pH and lower concentration, it functions as a humectant, helping skin retain water.

We formulated Le Chouchou at a higher pH. In this formula, lactic acid is a humectant — not an exfoliant.

Hibiscus flower acids are a different story, and a more interesting one. They’re not AHAs. They’re ketoacids — a category of their own, extracted from the roselle hibiscus flower, and known for being gentle on skin. They’ve been independently tested for 28 days with no irritation, at a concentration well above the level we use in Le Chouchou.

There’s also a beautiful piece of biology happening here that I love: the pyruvic acid in the hibiscus flower acids is converted into more lactic acid by enzymes on your skin. Which means the moisturizing support of Le Chouchou keeps going long after you apply — through the very same molecule your skin already uses to hold onto moisture.

Both acids are here to support your lips. Not to strip them.

So can you reapply throughout the day?

Yes. Absolutely.

Each application is primarily replenishing moisture, supporting your skin barrier, and keeping lips comfortable. It’s not stacking stronger and stronger exfoliation on top of itself.

An irony worth naming

Well-hydrated lips actually shed dead skin more efficiently than dry, dehydrated lips. When the barrier is functioning well and moisture is present, the natural desquamation cycle works the way it’s supposed to.

This is why consistent daily use tends to lead to lips that feel smoother, softer, and less flaky over time — not more. The people who use Le Chouchou every day are the ones seeing the most cumulative benefit.

What Le Chouchou was designed to do

Le Chouchou was designed as a daily lip treatment. Not to force your lips to peel. To create the conditions where healthy lips can do what they already know how to do — hold moisture, renew themselves, and stay soft.

The best science doesn’t always look dramatic

Sometimes it looks like dead skin naturally letting go. A stronger moisture barrier. Softer, smoother lips over time. Skin doing exactly what it was designed to do.

That’s what Science Meets Soul means to us. Formulas that work with your skin, not against it. Formulas designed for daily life — not for a peel, not for a treatment room, but for the way you actually live.

Use Le Chouchou as often as your lips are happy. That’s what it’s for.

With love,
Marie

The mirror is seemingly passive. It sits still; it watches you watch yourself; and it quietly bears witness. You observe, you denigrate, and you admire, all while the mirror watches. Yet, while the mirror maintains its acquiescence, reflections – and what we do with them – have never been neutral ground.

For most of my teenage years, and a few of my adult ones, I rarely found anything to like in my reflection. And I would say it out loud to whoever bothered to listen, even before they had said anything at all.

“I do not like my face”

In the mirror, my wide nose seemed a little wider and my skin a little too textured. True, the mirror had not changed, and, quite frankly, neither had my face. But, again, reflections have never been neutral.

For people of color, mirrors have always been tied to painful moments in history. Some historians posit that mirrors were among the trade goods that were exchanged during the transatlantic slave trade. Historically, women of color have also been taught that our features are not reflection-worthy, that to stand before a mirror in admiration is not an act for an “other” face. I believe this othering of our faces and features in the mirror is the main reason I find the mythos of Mami Wata equal parts fascinating and comforting.

In the Congo, she is Mamba Muntu. In Zambia, she is Dona Fish. In Benin, she is a deeply loved Vodún deity. And in Suriname, Watra Mama. Across Africa, the Caribbean, and the Diaspora, Mami Wata is loved and revered.

In some depictions, she is a snake charmer. In others, she is a mermaid with gifts of fertility, healing, and wealth. She is known to change appearance and form, blending in or standing out to those who have captured her attention. But in all her depictions, the mirror is one of her most enduring symbols.

Her mirror is small, and her reflection still. Whether she is looking in the mirror or away from it, her features aren’t twisted or agitated. She does not appear to be seeking anything different, less, or more than she is or has. She is merely watching herself in the mirror. But in a world that teaches women of color to approach the mirror with dissatisfaction, practicing beauty with pleasure and contentment is resistance, and, in a way, Mami Wata pays for it.

As a child from Southeastern Nigeria, I had heard tales of Mami Wata possessing the young women around me. Once a woman was too beautiful, too self-assured, too confident, she was Mami Wata. We were told she stole husbands and dragged sons into the water with her, where they would give her all their money and live in servitude. “Mami Wata” became less the name of a deity and more a warning about the kind of woman you shouldn’t become.

Even in some translations of her depictions, her mirror is seen only as a symbol of vanity and self-indulgence. But what is wrong with accepting that something is beautiful because it is, and why is that acceptance dismissed as misplaced or dangerous in a deity that looks like us? Why is her allure described as garish, and what does that say about the women whom she protects?

And for us, I ask: Why does the mirror —a quiet checkpoint for mornings and evenings— serve less as a witness for us and more as a scoreboard? When did my wide nose stop being mine and become something to correct? And why are our beauty practices so often measured by how dramatically they promise to transform us?

There is rarely a moment’s pause to reflect, recognize, and delight in the beauties of the other face, as there is room for change and fixes. The mirror has become less a place of recognition and more a catalog of potential improvements.

As women for whom beauty has always been political, – and sometimes the difference between safety and scrutiny– even the sanctums where we take care of our skin are not untouched. Those sanctums are marred by the urge to correct, and as I reflect on my childhood spent watching the women in my life perform their beauty rituals, I now realize the weight those rituals carried.

A facial may not have bettered my cousin’s chances of finding a husband, and a skin-lightening cream could not have made my family friend more deserving of her lover’s affection, but they believed it would anyway. For them, the reflection they sought was never just vanity; it was currency. It was the difference between being revered and being shunned.

I believe Mami Wata invites us to another way of looking, one in which we hold the mirror, not in judgment, want, or criticism, but in recognition of self.

Tomorrow morning, the mirror will be waiting where it always has. It will not ask me to criticize my skin or to make jokes at my expense. It will only reflect what I bring to it. The question, then, is not what the mirror will show me, but what I have learned to see.

Mami Wata’s mirror invites us to hold up our own mirrors, with our joys and uniqueness, and with a deep care for self. Her mirror reminds us that reflection need not begin with correction. Sometimes it can begin and end with recognition. And maybe our own reflections deserve that same certainty.

Originality Isn’t a Shape or Color. It’s a Thousand Decisions.

People often tell us that everything at EADEM feels intentional.

That’s because it had to be.

In 2020, we took our own savings and put them into an idea we couldn’t stop thinking about.

Marie Kouadio Amouzame and Alice Lin Glover—two longtime friends, two women of color and two outsiders to the beauty industry. Marie is French, from Côte d’Ivoire, and now American. Alice is Taiwanese American. We bonded over shared experiences, shared values and the particular intensity of being raised by immigrant mothers.

In early investor meetings, we were told that EADEM wasn’t enough. Our traction wasn’t enough. The world didn’t need another beauty brand.

But we believed science and soul should never have to exist separately. That skincare could be clinically rigorous without feeling cold—that an effective formula could also feel beautiful, expressive and deeply personal.

So we put in our own money and kept building.

We developed custom formulas from scratch. We chose—and paid more—for clinical testing across the full spectrum of skin tones. We treated the formula, texture, packaging, colors, language and experience as one interconnected whole.

Take Le Chouchou.

Before it became a beloved product, it was an idea we spent years trying to get right. Then we launched it—and waited.

There was no instant sellout. No overnight viral moment. We had to keep showing people what made it different, one detail, one swipe and one customer at a time.

Today, some of its most recognizable details may feel familiar. But that familiarity came after the work.

Metal applicators existed before Le Chouchou. The component that first caught our attention was primarily used for the under-eye area. We saw another possibility: a larger, bulbous shape designed around the curves of the lips.

We refined its shape, scale and feel until it could deliver our rich formula in one generous, satisfying swipe. Le Chouchou helped make that distinctive silhouette recognizable as a lip applicator.

But originality isn’t one applicator. It isn’t one color, one name, one ingredient or one chrome tube.

It’s the way every choice is considered, reconsidered and brought together to create something that didn’t exist in quite that way before.

We didn’t begin Le Chouchou with a tube. We began with a problem.

Marie has two-toned lips and spent years frustrated by tinted balms that disappeared on her skin—and treatment products that still didn’t meaningfully care for dry, chapped and cracked lips. That frustration became our brief: exfoliation without sacrificing hydration.

Hibiscus enzymes and gentle acids renew dry, flaky lips while açaí butter, mongongo butter and moringa oil replenish moisture. No visible peeling. No flaking. No sting. Just renewal you can use every day. Then we obsessed over everything around it.

The shades were developed to show up beautifully across a wider range of skin tones. The tube, weight, finish, proportions and logo placement went through countless iterations. Even the names carry pieces of us: Bissap Glaze honors Marie’s Ivorian heritage; Boba Bounce nods to Alice’s Taiwanese heritage.

These aren’t stories added after the product was finished. They are part of why it exists.

And the performance proved the idea. In third-party testing, 100% of participants said their lips felt soothed and more comfortable after one use. After two weeks, 94% said Le Chouchou beat every lip balm they had tried before.

That didn’t happen because we found the right tube.

It came from years of developing, testing, failing and refining—then continuing to believe in the product when it didn’t immediately take off.

As two women of color building something original, we’re also clear-eyed about how often ideas from people who look like us are picked up, repackaged and made more profitable by companies with greater resources and far less risk on the line.

It means something to remember being told that EADEM wasn’t enough—and then watch the choices we struggled to prove become obvious once we demonstrated their value.

We don’t say this to be bitter. We know that being referenced is part of making something that matters. Put us on your mood board. Mimic the photography. Follow the colors. Recreate the chrome tube and the familiar shape.

But what you cannot take is the reason it all exists.

You cannot copy Marie’s experience of searching for something the market had failed to make for her. You cannot copy the years we spent refining every detail. You cannot copy the uncertainty of launching it, watching it struggle and choosing to keep believing anyway.

And you cannot copy what it took for two women of color to build EADEM from the ground up with our own money—no inherited capital, no corporate safety net and no shortcuts.

So when you see a “dupe,” remember that resemblance is only the part you can see.

Behind the original were two friends who risked their savings on an idea other people told us wasn’t enough. Two women who designed, tested, failed, refined and kept going until the world finally saw what we had seen all along.

Copycats don’t deter us. They remind us that our job is to keep innovating—to keep questioning what beauty can be and creating what doesn’t exist yet.

We made an original, and we’re nowhere near finished.

—Marie & Alice

Some people collect clothes, Emily Bonita collects references. A film still, a patterned tile, the way afternoon light falls across a room—she’s always noticing the details that shape how beauty is felt, not just seen. Raised in Montréal and now at home in Brooklyn, her world is informed by craftsmanship, curiosity, and the belief that beauty and fashion are always in conversation. The result is a perspective that feels nostalgic without looking backward, and deeply personal without ever trying too hard.

What’s your name and where do you consider home?

My name is Emily Bonita, and my home is in Brooklyn, New York.

Describe yourself in three words?

Curious, driven, and creative.

What’s your #1 summer beauty secret?

I bring face mist and leave-in conditioner everywhere. I reset my curls with water throughout the day and add a little more leave-in conditioner to my ends as needed. I definitely don’t follow the rules when it comes to how much conditioner you’re “supposed” to use.

You’ve mentioned finding inspiration in cinema, interiors, and art. How do those influences find their way into your everyday life?

I’m constantly collecting references without really realizing it. I love when different creative worlds start talking to one another.

Do fashion and beauty feel like separate forms of expression to you, or are they part of the same conversation?

To me, beauty and fashion are part of the same conversation. The beauty team should be praised as much as the design team, and is just as important in creating the mood and completing the story. A great beauty look can completely transform how a collection or outfit is experienced.

You’ve lived between Montréal and New York. How have those places shaped your creative eye?

I was talking to a friend who’s also from Montréal about this recently. Because of the language, the culture, the food, and the arts, Montréal feels driven more by passion than by money, and that perspective gets ingrained in you early on. So many incredible artists and creative people come from there because there’s a genuine appreciation for making things. New York is where people come to become themselves. Being surrounded by people who are relentlessly passionate and unapologetically original pushes you creatively every single day.

Your style feels both nostalgic and modern. What draws you to vintage pieces, and what do they offer that new clothes often don’t?

I’m always drawn to color, print, and texture. If something catches my eye on the rack and feels beautiful in my hands, there’s a good chance I’m trying it on. Vintage also offers craftsmanship that’s harder to find today. Many of the fabrics, the tailoring, and the details were made to last.

What’s something you’ve grown to appreciate more with age?

My hair! I can’t believe how much heat I put on these curls.

Is there a city, place, or landscape that has changed the way you see beauty?

Morocco completely captivated me. The people, craftsmanship, food, textures, architecture- everything felt endlessly inspiring. It made me see the beauty and richness of everyday life.

Is there a beauty ritual you hope to pass down some day?

I really believe in keeping things natural and true to you. Growing up, my mom always had a super simple routine, nothing overly complicated. She just took really good care of herself without stressing over the small things. She had a few quality go-to products that she kept going back to, and that was enough. That’s something that’s really stayed with me over the years. Less is more.

How has your heritage and background shaped the way you think about beauty?

Growing up in a multicultural city like Montréal and being around people with different backgrounds and perspectives has taught me that there isn’t one singular definition of beauty. I’ve always been inspired by women who embrace their individuality.

Written by Matisse Andrews

My whole life I wanted to be beautiful. The kind of beautiful that seemed to make life easier. I thought beautiful girls got asked to dance first, forgiven faster, loved louder. Whether that was true or not, didn’t matter.

It also didn’t help that when I was around ten years old, I started gaining weight and, as a mixed-race girl in a predominantly white town being raised by my single white dad with unmanageable hair neither of us knew what to do with, the odds weren’t looking good for your girl. What’s an overweight, uncomfortable, out-of-place, bullied, motherless child to do?

Musical theatre, obviously. Gotta start building that personality and sense of humor brick by brick—make up for what we’re lacking in the social cachet department.

My mother was a knockout. I try to imagine her having an awkward phase, but that feels false. She possessed a striking, undeniable beauty, the kind of beauty strangers would stop her on the street just to make her aware of. I loved watching her get ready, catching her reflection in the mirror as she moved through her makeup ritual with meticulous certainty. The second she turned her back to leave, it was my turn to play. Coloring wildly outside the lines of my mouth, pretending to be grown up, not realizing how lucky I was to be small, I was witnessing my first magic trick. A swipe of color across your lips—suddenly, everything looked different.

I remember hearing stories about her almost mythical beauty. For better or worse, I am my father’s daughter, but I inherited pieces of her—her love of cooking, her deep connection to music, her don’t-fuck-with-me attitude, and, on good days, glimpses of her face. But where was this feminine allure? Wasn’t I supposed to get at least a shred of that too, cruel world? Who was going to teach me how to harness its power? My first teacher was missing.

Being raised by a man meant I didn’t have any examples of how to be a woman at home. So I outsourced. Every Saturday, my patient and loving father would drive me to the mall so I could get my weekly, age-appropriate makeover at the makeup counter. MAC was my church. The makeup artists were my gods. They reinforced the idea that taking time for yourself isn’t vanity. Makeup became more than makeup. It became creativity. Armor. Self-expression. A place to put my anger, my longing, my ambition. Eventually, my livelihood. Of the many lives I’ve lived, it’s no surprise that one of them was as a makeup artist.

Years later, I finally understood what those women had given me. There’s something sacred about sitting in someone’s makeup chair. Some people compare it to a therapy session. You’re surrendering yourself to someone else’s hands. It’s deeply vulnerable. You stop looking at your phone. You talk. Or you don’t. Either way, you’re seen.

I was lucky enough to find life-changing substitute teachers. My Aunt Maxine, who I idolized. Friends’ moms who probably had no idea a little girl was studying the way they moved through the world. The women behind department store counters who never knew my name quietly filled in the gaps.

There is power in deciding how you want to present yourself to the world. There is even more power in how you make someone else feel. Sitting with someone, caring for them, giving them your time and attention—those are acts of generosity. As an aimless girl starved for guidance, that was the most beautiful gift I was given.

When you lose your mother, you become a collector. You borrow pieces of womanhood wherever you can find them, holding onto them like precious artifacts, hoping that one day they’ll fit together into something that finally feels whole.

Upon first introduction to Sunsuede, it’s clear this isn’t your average sunscreen. Housed in a compact stick format, Sunsuede goes on smooth, clear and dry to the touch — a far cry from the chalky, greasy SPFs we’re all too familiar with. Despite years of advancement in UV science, sunscreen remains a difficult nut to crack. It doesn’t matter how well it actually works. If an SPF doesn’t find the crossroad between effectiveness, finish, texture, gentleness and application method, it’s unlikely to make it into your beauty routine.

For darker skin tones, a canyon grows even wider where options should be. Formulations that excel in blending into deeper skin often suffer from excess oil. On the other end, mineral-forward options leave the dreaded white cast. Within this dynamic, we lose access to the product innovation that makes skincare fun.

Sunsuede brings much-needed relief to the SPF dilemma, but probably not for the reason you think. The product’s face-conforming shape and stick medium are novel and significantly increase the likelihood of on-the-go reapplication. However, it’s the inclusion of a seemingly nondescript ingredient that transforms it from just another SPF to an ingenious beauty solution.

Kaolin clay, much like the red earth you played with as a kid or what is thrown onto pottery wheels, elevates Sunsuede into a blurring primer that immediately gives skin a perfected finish and preps for makeup. This clay began as a humble folk remedy and crude building material. Its ascension to a studied cosmetic therapy is a poignant example of the inherent knowing that lies in cultural practice and intuition.

Named after the high ridge from which it was first mined, kaolin’s legacy as a multipurpose ingredient can be traced back to ancient China. Artisans used the abundant, white clay to create early porcelain, while traditional healers conjured soothing pastes and medicines.

Though we now have an in-depth understanding of kaolin’s structure and function, its earliest recognition as a topical benefit likely came after humans watched animals regularly coat themselves in it. This shared survival instinct clued us into a universal truth before science could attest to it.

Today, kaolin is widely used across cosmetics and industrial manufacturing due to its unique properties. “It’s chemically inert,” explains AJ Addae, Founder and Chief Formulator at SULA Labs. “It’s not [a chemical exfoliant or active], it’s neutral in terms of pH and it’s super biocompatible.” These characteristics make kaolin nondisruptive in delicate formulations and, more importantly, to the skin barrier.

Kaolin is almost exclusively used in modern skincare for its oil-absorbing power, making it popular in acne products. “It’s like a sponge,” says Addae. “If you’re absorbing excess oil, it can help push the skin to an equilibrium.” In Sunsuede, this feature has the dual benefit of oil control on your skin and in the product itself, lending to its unique texture.

Typically, the soft clay is opaque, making it ideal for rinse-off masks. When mixed with water, kaolin has a cooling effect that calms inflammation. The particle shape is suitable for gentle, physical exfoliation, and its stable versatility helps enhance texture. However, when kaolin is very finely milled, it takes on new properties. “Silica is a cousin [to kaolin],” says Addae. “[In makeup], silica can trick the eye into seeing more of a matte or diffuse look because the particle sizes are so small…That’s what makes [kaolin] such a great blurring agent. There’s a combination of excess oil absorption and diffuse light refraction for a perfecting finish.”

As we search for new answers to old skincare questions, Sunsuede is a reminder that we may already have them. The cultural record deserves reference. It offers opportunities to test the bounds of what we’ve come to accept as standard or natural so that we might bring the water back to the canyon.

Simedar Jackson is a multidisiplinary, creative writer and skin expert, creating across beauty, adult beverage, CPG and hospitality. Read more about her here.

Here at EADEM, we’re constantly inspired by our community. Creating spaces where people can gather, connect, and engage in meaningful conversation is something we value deeply. We’ve long admired Jordan Risa-Santos’ Seen Library events from afar, and a few weeks ago, we were fortunate enough to experience one firsthand at Juliet in Los Angeles.

If you’re unfamiliar with Seen Library, we encourage you to revisit our past Laying it Bare conversation with Jordan. Each Seen Library gathering revolves around a thoughtfully chosen theme, with books carefully selected to spark reflection and connection. This particular evening was dedicated to celebrating mothers of all ages and the many forms that motherhood can take.

As a new mother myself, there was something immediately comforting about sitting around the table with fellow mothers. The conversations unfolded with an ease that allowed everyone to speak honestly, listen closely, and share pieces of themselves. For a few hours, I felt exactly what the event’s name promises: seen. Seen, heard, and celebrated.

When it came time to choose a book, I found myself naturally drawn to one centered on the relationship between a mother and her son. There’s a particular thrill in unwrapping a book you’ve never encountered before, allowing chance to guide you toward a story. To my surprise, I had selected Leavers, a novel by Lisa Ko that follows an undocumented Chinese immigrant mother whose sudden disappearance leaves her son searching for answers.

What stayed with me long after the evening ended wasn’t just the book I brought home, but the reminder that stories have a unique ability to bridge experiences that might otherwise feel impossible to articulate. Around the table were women at different stages of life, with different relationships to motherhood, yet literature created a common language through which we could share our perspectives.

In an era where so much of our interaction happens through screens, there is something special about gathering in person to discuss a book, exchange ideas, and listen without interruption. Seen Library creates space for that kind of presence—one where curiosity is valued over certainty and connection emerges naturally through conversation.

As I left Juliet that afternoon, book tucked under my arm, I found myself thinking about the many ways we care for one another: through stories passed between friends, thoughtful recommendations, and making room for someone else’s experience. It felt like a fitting celebration of motherhood. Not as a singular experience, but as an ongoing practice of empathy, generosity, and understanding.

Written by Calia Booth

2025 was the year I became a mother. A new identity that, even in name alone, felt like it was aging me. Saying the phrase “I’m a mom” carries a certain connotation. I know I felt it any time someone mentioned it to me in the past, when I existed as a singular entity. But as I gave new life to another being, I couldn’t help but observe the obvious: with his youth, I age.

As he comes into himself, the features on his face slowly melding into the person he’s going to be, the lines on mine become more pronounced. With each new skill he learns, day by day at a rapid pace, it feels as though my own body is keeping time alongside his. My crow’s feet, softly etched into the corners of my eyes, deepen with every wide smile I can’t help but wear at the sight of him. Even in the mirror, these changes don’t feel sudden so much as cumulative. A quiet record of repetition, presence, and care. And somehow, I find myself smiling at all of it.

One day, I turned to my husband and, with a kind of quiet certainty, said, “I feel vintage.” The language of aging often feels charged, especially for women and mothers. As if time is something to resist rather than something to inhabit. But “vintage” offered a different framing: something softened by time, made more meaningful by it. The marks that have begun to settle on my face this past year feel less like loss and more like accumulation — evidence of days that mattered. I don’t want them erased. With each line, I feel as though I’m holding onto something real, like a living scrapbook gradually being written across my skin.

In this new rhythm of life, my routines have become more intentional. A splash of rose water, a good SPF, and a layer of moisturizer. Small rituals that feel less like correction and more like continuity. The language of “anti-aging” no longer feels relevant here, as though it belongs to a version of beauty that is trying to outrun time rather than move with it.

In many ways, the beauty industry has taught women to fear the visible passage of time. To correct, erase, and conceal every sign of a life fully lived. Motherhood has made me question that entirely. The very things I’m told to fight against are evidence of joy, exhaustion, tenderness, and growth. My face now carries proof that I have laughed deeply, worried endlessly, and loved someone beyond myself. Perhaps beauty was never meant to be about preservation at all, but about presence: being here long enough for life to leave its gentle imprint on you. “Vintage” feels fitting because it honors age not as damage, but as character, something to be cared for, admired, and lived in fully.

My thirties welcomed an extensive level of personal change. And so much of that growth was in relation to my self-image. When I was younger, and first arrived to LA, I found myself on an endless cycle of nitpicking. I relentlessly scolded my body for its deemed imperfections. Previously, I had attended a prestigious acting conservatory on the east coast, that lead me to believe the only way to be a successful was to be hyper-critical. So, I became my worst enemy. My nose was too large. I hated my crooked side profile in audition tapes. My hair was too frizzy. I constantly reached for a hair straightener to fight my unruly waves. My body needed to be smaller and smaller and smaller. And as I shrank, I did receive glorious praise. But that self-inflicted ridicule came to an abrupt stop at the start of my thirties. I found myself unexpectedly single a few a months before my wedding date. The energy I once resourced for my pursuit of perfection was now needed elsewhere. All I could do was be present. All I had to do was care for myself.

After a couple months, I realized my body and mind needed a change. The familiarities of palm trees and bougainvillea made my stomach turn. And in my new-found quiet, I decided to move to New York City.

This might read as dramatic, but the city undoubtedly saved my life. And part of that was satiating the unquenchable beauty standards I set for myself at such a young age. Each day, waking up in this new place, alone in my tiny studio apartment, I began to see my flaws as shades of beauty. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were painted in a new shade of blue. I was a woman with nerve. And I liked, who was becoming. I began to love the shape of my nose. It reminded me of my Sicilian family. I didn’t fight my natural hair texture. The messy waves were coaxed out from the humid subway air. I gained back the weight everyone complimented me for losing. I looked like a thirty-year old woman. That felt like a triumph. I was strong and soft all at once.

In a world that is selling sameness- I offer up the opposite. What if the histories of our pasts, allow for the possibility to embrace our own authentic beauty? I don’t want to see the same faces in movies, and social media and billboards. I want to see faces with their own stories. I feel more beautiful, the more life I have lived.

Now that I am back in California, I don’t feel tempted by restrictive standards of self-image. I live in my vintage apartment in Los Feliz. Every day, I wake up and get ready in a pink art deco bathroom. The vintage tiles become an unabashedly feminine backdrop for my self-care rituals. Light a candle, sip an americano, apply my skincare. This space has welcomed a softness. Self regard replaces self critique. I know that this is such a fleeting moment in time-to live alone in my thirties. I know that this is a temporary chapter. That one day I won’t have this pink bathroom, and I wont be living by myself. And for once in my life, I don’t feel like I am trying to rush into the future or longing for younger versions of the past. This apartment has brought many thoughts around womanhood and aging. And this chapter of unapologetic femininity feels profound. I love this moment in my thirties. Even if it looks nothing like I expected. And I am not afraid of getting older. When I look in the mirror, I find pleasure in the maturity, in the subtle lines and gray hair. My lips a shade of chateau rose to match my space. It’s such a strange thing to me, to not enjoy aging. Because each year, only means I am closer to myself.

Meet Jordan Risa, a Filipino-American with a passion for leveraging the power of social media beyond traditional boundaries and founder of Seen Library, an IRL community centered on conversation and connection through books, and a social media consultant for fashion and beauty brands.

Intended to be a space meant to encourage less time spent looking down at phones and more towards the pages of a book, Seen Library is a community for people to come together to foster meaningful connection and conversations.

What’s your name and where do you consider home?
Jordan Risa – and Los Angeles is home <3

Describe yourself in three words?
Honest, reflective and social

You’re recently postpartum. How has your relationship changed with your skin throughout this experience?
Definitely more laidback with my routine – there are some days I can’t find the energy or time to do my skincare. It’s definitely taken a backseat at the moment!

When do you feel most confident in your own skin?
When I’m around the people that I love and when I’m doing the things that I love.

What’s your #1 beauty secret?
To see aging as a gift, not a curse.

What are your favorite fiction and nonfiction books that help redefine beauty standards?
Beauty Sick by Renee Engeln
The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
If I Had Your Face by Frances Cha
Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino

Who first taught you about beauty?
My younger cousin (and best friend) who I grew up with. My mom was never big into beauty and my cousin was actually the one who taught me how to put my hair in a ponytail and always did my hair and makeup for school dances - she still does my makeup and hair now to this day for weddings or big events!

What’s one feature you’ve learned to love that you once tried to hide?
My flat nose. Filipinos are known for their flat noses and growing up, I saw so many Filipino women change their nose through cosmetic surgery. But now, I appreciate how it makes me feel a part of something bigger than myself – my family, the Filipino community, ancestors who lived before me.

How do you want to leave your mark?
By creating beautiful moments with my loved ones that they’ll remember long after I’m gone and by creating opportunities for people to learn and connect with one another through @seenlibrary :)

Uneven skin tone is one of the most common concerns for people with skin of color, but misinformation means it’s tough to work out what’s best for your skin.

Let’s start by saying that perfectly even skin is a myth. No one on the planet has a uniformly even skin tone all across their face and body. It’s completely normal to have a mix of different shades across your skin, and for your skin tone to differ throughout the seasons.

So if totally even skin isn’t attainable, why use products that address it? Research has shown that an uneven complexion can come from acne, dry skin, and dark spots — all big skin concerns for people with skin of color. By addressing these skin concerns, you can improve your skin tone in the process.

Here’s everything to know about getting a balanced, even complexion, including finding the right skincare with melanin-safe ingredients to improve an uneven skin tone.

Signs of uneven skin tone
An uneven skin tone doesn’t look the same from person to person. It can change depending on one’s age, life stressors, hormonal cycle, and external environment.

Some of the most common signs of an uneven skin tone, also known as hyperpigmentation, include:

• Redness

• Blemishes

• Dark spots (aka age spots, melasma, or sun spots)

• Acne scars

• Dull complexion

Post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation (PIH) is a type of uneven skin tone that’s particularly common in skin that contains more melanin. “This is when inflammation or injury (think bug bites or acne, even eczema or psoriasis breakouts) in the epidermis stimulates melanocytes to increase melanin production as a healing response and cause dark spots,” says board-certified dermatologist Dr. Ann Brewer who specializes in treating skin of color. These dark spots can last months or even years.

Many people don’t realize that inflammation can lead to hyperpigmentation and uneven skin tone. Using skincare products that irritate the skin, sun exposure, skin injuries, and allergies can all contribute to inflammation in skin of color. But it can be evened out by using the right skincare for an uneven skin tone.

Causes of uneven skin tone
Not all dark spots have the same causes, which can make it confusing when you’re trying to work out the right routine to keep hyperpigmentation under control. And here at EADEM, we’re all about finding ways to work with and prevent hyperpigmentation. Understanding the cause of your uneven skin tone is the start of discovering the solutions to even out your skin tone.

Aging can lead to a more uneven complexion. This comes down to sun exposure over the years and the natural decrease in cell turnover that comes as you mature. Some people are genetically more predisposed to having pigmentation in their skin, which can become more noticeable as they get older.

Environmental pollutants and toxins can damage your barrier and contribute to an uneven skin tone too. The same goes for using harsh, irritating, or toxic skincare products that lead to inflammation and damaged skin.

Dr. Brewer adds, “There are three types of hyperpigmentation: post-inflammatory, sun-induced, and hormonal.” Here are more details on what you need to know about the causes of uneven skin tone.

Sun exposure
We’ve already talked about PIH (and the causes of it: inflammation and injury), which is often one of the most common underlying causes of dark spots. Too much sun exposure and too little sun protection can cause inflammation and hyperpigmentation too, as UVA/UVB rays stimulate melanocytes (melanin-producing skin cells) to produce more melanin, which can excessively darken areas of the skin. Even if you don’t feel like you got burnt, your skin can still end up inflamed. This is one of the reasons why sun protection is so important for all skin tones.

Hyperpigmentation
Hyperpigmentation is the overproduction of melanin in the skin, which leads to dark spots. Melanin is the pigment that’s responsible for the color of your skin, hair, and eyes; it also reacts to sun exposure, causing the skin to produce more melanin. This is part of the body’s natural defense against UV rays, but repeated exposure can lead to melanin overproduction and hyperpigmentation as a result.

Hyperpigmentation is sometimes called sun spots or age spots. These marks can vary in size, shape, and color, as well as where they appear on the skin. Typically hyperpigmentation is harmless but can affect your confidence in your skin. Taking preventative measures (i.e. wearing SPF, avoiding the sun and harsh ingredients) is the best to control hyperpigmentation but skincare for improving uneven skin tone does exist to help reduce it after it appears.

Melasma
Hormonal changes, including during pregnancy or from birth control, can change up your skin too. This can result in something called melasma, which is basically darker patches on the skin. Men and women can experience melasma, but it’s more common in women.

Patches of melasma are mostly found on the forehead, cheeks, bridge of the nose, and upper lip. It can also occur on other parts of the body. It’s caused by fluctuating estrogen levels that stimulate melanocytes to work overtime on melanin production. (Sun exposure can also worsen melasma so staying protected outdoors either with SPF or UPF-protective clothing or inside during peak hours will help improve melasma.)

Dry skin
Dry and damaged skin can be prone to discoloration which can make it look patchy or ashy. It often doesn’t produce enough natural oils, making the complexion more vulnerable to becoming cracked or sore. This skin damage can lead to inflammation and PIH.

Using the best skincare for dry, uneven skin tone and keeping your skin hydrated, moisturized, and cared-for is one of the best ways to deal with dry skin. Drink plenty of water; use the best skincare for dry, uneven skin tones; wear SPF daily; and use a moisturizer that is packed with glycerin, ceramides, and natural butters, such as shea butter, twice a day to take care of your skin. Bonus points if your moisturizer also includes squalane, hyaluronic acid, or vitamin C too as these hydration-boosting ingredients improve dry skin with regular use.

Pollution
Pollution, pollen, and poor air quality can have a huge impact on your skin. This can be a huge deal, especially if you live in a big city. If your skin isn’t properly cleansed regularly, the build up can cause an uneven skin tone or hyperpigmentation.

Protecting your skin from environmental damage and making sure to cleanse twice a day is the key to helping keep skin hyperpigmentation free. You can keep your skin protected from free radicals — skin-damaging molecules that are in the environment around us — by using skincare with antioxidant ingredients like encapsulated Vitamin C.

How to Get Rid of Uneven Skin Tone
If you’ve put in the work to discover what’s causing your uneven skin tone, the next step is getting the right routine to rebalance your complexion. This means reducing any dark spots so that your skin tone is more even. Milk Marvel Dark Spot Serum helps to fade hyperpigmentation, brighten the skin, and boost collagen while protecting skin from free-radical damage thanks to encapsulated vitamin C.

Cleanse and moisturize every day
Make time for cleansing and moisturizing every single day. Just this little act of self-care can make a huge difference for the health of your skin by removing environmental damage and hyperpigmentation, as well as adding a natural glow back into your complexion.

Dew Dream Hydrating Cleansing Balm is the perfect daily cleanser to melt away makeup, dirt, and SPF without stripping your skin. Its formula incorporates calming Tiger Grass and moisturizing Allantoin; the smooth texture means it won’t create any irritation which can cause inflammation and damage. You’re just left with clean, hydrated skin that’s soothed and nourished.

If you’re skipping exfoliation and active serums (which you should apply twice per week to repair the skin barrier), follow with the Cloud Cushion Airy Brightening Moisturizer to deeply hydrate and soothe irritated skin. It’s formulated to prevent the appearance of dark spots with Peptides, Ceramides, and Snow Mushroom to rapidly repair your skin barrier and soothe inflammation.

The formula prevents ashiness, dull complexions, and dark spots, thanks to an innovative pigmentation-blocking four-amino acid peptide that uses Smart Melanin™ Technology. This is our approach to formulating skincare that’s scientifically dosed to be gentle and effective on skin with melanin.

Exfoliate regularly
Exfoliation is essential when it comes to adding an even-toned glow back into your complexion. But if your formulas are too harsh or you exfoliate too often, this can create irritation, inflammation, and a damaged skin barrier which, as you know, leads to hyperpigmentation.

Using a gentle exfoliator to slough away dead, dull skin cells is something you should incorporate into your skincare routine at least twice a week,to lighten hyperpigmentation and reduce the appearance of dark spots.

Cashmere Peel Gentle Exfoliating AHA Toner improves skin texture and tone and leaves an immediate supple glow in skin of color. Unlike other exfoliants which are harsh on skin and create tightness, stinging, and burning, Cashmere Peel safely fades dark spots, unclogs pores, and refines skin texture. Powered by FastFade™, a 9% blend of AHA + PHAs, Rice Water and Colloidal Oatmeal, it lifts away darkened skin cells without worsening existing hyperpigmentation.

Use a brightening serum

Adding a gentle brightening serum is an important step when you’re dealing with dark spots. You need to choose a serum that not only delivers effective active ingredients, but is gentle enough to use on your skin without causing further damage or inflammation.

Milk Marvel Dark Spot Serum is our absolute go-to for fading hyperpigmentation while refining and resurfacing the skin. Made with Niacinamide, Amber Algae, and Encapsulated Vitamin C, it’s been designed for skin of color using Smart Melanin™ Technology to actively fade dark spots and prevent the formation of new ones.

Eat a healthy, balanced diet
Your mind, body, and skin are all connected. Skip processed foods and instead focus on nourishing your skin from within with a balanced diet of healthy veggies, fresh fruits (especially citrus and grapes), seafood, and plenty of water to keep your skin hydrated.

These foods are rich in vitamins and minerals which can help to improve the quality of your skin, fight sunspots and help protect your skin against free radicals.

How to prevent uneven skin
The best way to deal with hyperpigmentation and an uneven skin tone is to prevent it from happening in the first place. By focusing on healthy habits, the right routines for your skin, and being aware of what triggers your hyperpigmentation, you can work with your skin to keep your complexion as even toned as possible. Incorporate these three tips to start.

Wear sunscreen
The first step to incorporate into your skincare routine for uneven skin tones is SPF. You might think you don’t need it because skin with melanin doesn’t burn as easily or because where you live isn’t very sunny, but we’ll say it again: all skin types and tones need to wear sunscreen, regardless of location.

“You know it, you’ve heard it before, but it still must be said: Darker skin needs sunscreen! It helps with everything from anti-aging to improving the effectiveness of your products.” says Licensed Esthetician, Simedar Jackson. SPF is important to protect your skin from premature aging, skin cancer, and dark spots.

You need to wear it daily, at a high enough SPF for your skin (30+ SPF is recommended), even if you’re going to be indoors for most of the day. Use a reliable sunscreen that doesn’t leave a white cast on your skin or interfere with your makeup. Reapply it every two hours.

Jackson adds, “Inflammation and damage triggers the skin to make more pigment as a defense response. Unfortunately, tanning is actually sun damage. Spending unprotected time in the sun not only causes dark spots but actually makes current dark spots worse.”

Don’t pick your skin
This is advice easier said than followed since we’ve all had pimples we’ve wanted to pop! But if you pick at a zit, blackhead, or blemish, you’re going to end up with worse hyperpigmentation than if you had left it alone. Beyond unwanted dark spots, you can end up with scarring, skin damage, and inflammation.

Try your best not to pick at your skin. If that’s a habit you can’t kick, consider pimple patches which help them heal faster and reduce the temptation to pick. Your blemishes will heal faster, hurt less, and you won’t be left with long-lasting dark marks and scars.

Prioritize your skincare routine
Your skincare routine isn’t just about skincare. It’s about self-care, the health of your skin, and boosting your confidence with some simple and straightforward steps. It doesn’t need to be overly complicated and it doesn’t need to be overly time consuming.

Just spend a few extra minutes with the right skincare routine, and you’re good to go. Our Smart Hyperpigmentation Set was designed for skin that’s prone to hyperpigmentation. It’s a straightforward four-step routine backed by serious science to cleanse, exfoliate, brighten, and moisturize the complexion while protecting your skin barrier. It can actively prevent hyperpigmentation, as well as treat any existing dark spots.

Remember patience and consistency matter the most when treating dark spots. If you diligently stick to your routine, wear SPF, and follow our advice, you’ll be on your way to an even complexion in a few months’ time.

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Your skin’s acidity is the answer to a healthy complexion.

The words “pH balance” might make you think of litmus tests from high school chemistry, but understanding what it is (and how to achieve it on your skin) can help you fine-tune your daily skincare rituals in the present day.

What is pH in skin?
Shorthand for “potential hydrogen,” pH indicates how acidic or basic a substance can be. It also has real-world applications with skincare products, since finding ones that balance your skin’s pH (or acidity) can ensure that your complexion is looking and feeling healthy.

pH is measured on a scale of 0 to 14, with a lower pH closer to 0 representing something very acidic (like lemon juice). Anything over a neutral pH of 7 is considered non-acidic (AKA basic or alkaline), such as bleach.

A variety of factors can affect the pH of your skin, including your gender, age, diet, hygiene habits, and the types of skincare products you use. Women tend to have a lower skin pH than men, for example (see more below), and people over the age of 70 experience increased skin pH, as well. In other words, your skin balance will be highly personal to you!

Why is skin pH important?
Stabilizing your skin’s pH levels can go a long way towards protecting the skin’s barrier. In an ideal situation, your skin’s pH will lean slightly acidic (usually around 4.7 – 5.5), so the natural acid mantle of your skin can continue to protect itself from bad bacteria and maintain regular production of sebum.

But if your skin skews too acidic (below 4) or alkaline (above 7), that imbalance will show up as dry, flaky patches, or as acne, eczema, and psoriasis flare-ups. Studies have shown that your skin’s pH levels may even negatively affect your gut health, and vice versa, so the skin-to-inner-body connection is very real.

If you’re wondering how to determine your skin’s current pH levels, keep reading for the easy at-home test or in-office options.

What can affect skin’s pH?
Because your skin is a sensitive organism, many things can disrupt its pH balance, from external factors like weather and pollution to internal and existing considerations like your age, genetics, and hormones.

The full list of external pH disruptors includes:

• Harsh chemicals (such as AHAs with a pH around 2.5)

• Frequent washing (especially with water that’s too hot)

• Changes in temperature and humidity

• Dirt and pollution

• Chemicals

• Alkaline cosmetics (such as bar soaps with a pH between 9 and 10)

Products that align with your natural skin pH levels are also helpful for maintaining that balance, and usually fall in the pH range between 4 and 6. It’s also notable that skin pH between men and women differs slightly, with the average skin pH for women slightly lower than men — and therefore more acidic.

Does ths skin’s pH differ across the body?
While most skin on the face and body has a pH around 5.5, there are some notable differences due to factors like how often the surface is being washed, the substances that skin comes in contact with, and exposure to air. Typically, the more alkaline the skin is, the more prone it is to bacteria and infection.

The skin around your armpits, for example, is a zone where your pH levels can be off (typically closer to 6.5; less acidic and closer to a neutral pH) due to harsh chemicals it interacts with via antiperspirants, soaps, and hair removal products.
So if you’re susceptible to armpit B.O., it could be because of a less acidic and more alkaline pH. The pH imbalance, along with damp and musty conditions in that area, cause harmful bacteria to flourish, making your underarms especially susceptible to odor and infections.

Be careful with areas like your hands, too, that are washed or sanitized frequently throughout the day, as their protective acid mantle may be weakened and prone to dryness and irritation. (There’s a reason people complained about dry, cracked skin during the height of COVID-19!)

What is the best pH level for skin?
Logically, you may be thinking that the goal for balanced pH is a perfect neutral 7. But research shows that the skin’s normal pH is actually slightly acidic, around 5.5.
Why is the ideal pH 5.5? It creates the perfect conditions for balanced sebum levels and thriving levels of healthy bacteria that keep harmful types of bacteria at bay, meaning less acne and inflammation, plus a healthier skin barrier depending on the area of the body.

What happens if your skin is to acidic or too basic?
When your pH levels swing too high or too low, disrupting a healthy skin barrier, you may see some of these common effects:

• Dry and flaky skin

• An increase in breakout-causing bacteria

• Inflammation

• Greater skin sensitivity

• Skin itchiness

• Flare-ups of existing conditions like eczema, psoriasis, and rosacea
  

How to Check the pH of Your Skin
Want to know your skin’s pH? Here are a couple of handy ways to learn more about your skin’s pH or test its levels at home, no beakers or complex experiments required.

Home Test Strips
If you’re curious to know more about your skin’s pH, a dedicated skin litmus test for home use can give you more clarity.

These can be bought at your local pharmacy or online and come with paper strips that are applied to skin and dipped in a solution to provide an acidity reading. Keep in mind that home kits may not be as accurate as testing from a skincare professional.

Dermatologist
Dermatologists are always the best official sources for understanding your skin’s pH and an effective skincare routine to address any imbalances.
Their in-office tests can more accurately read your skin’s pH and the doctors can provide you with more context on what pH levels mean, where yours falls, along with how to care for skin if it’s showing signs of a disrupted pH balance.

Observation
Beyond the derm’s office, you can learn a lot about your skin just from carefully observing how it looks from day to day. Seeing dry spots? Irritation and redness? All of these are tell-tale signs that your pH balance is off.

Here are some signs your skin might be skewing more alkaline or acidic:

• Alkaline pH signs:

  • dryness

  • inflammation

  • Increased skin sensitivity

• Acidic pH signs:

  • oiliness

  • acne

  • skin irritation

How to balance you skin’s pH
Want to know more about keeping your skin in check? Here are a few ways to maintain that pH balance for a healthier complexion.

Use a Gentle Cleanser
A healthy skincare foundation starts with a cleanser like EADEM’s silky-smooth cleansing balm Dew Dream. Some are specifically marketed as being pH-balanced, which usually means that they’re formulated to be more acidic, since this helps maintain a healthy skin barrier.

These also have the benefit of combating acne, as well as buffing away dead skin cells that are common with skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis. Look for products containing a pH of 4 or lower.

Use a Toner
Toners should ideally have a pH between 5 and 7 to maintain the normal acidity of your skin, though they may be too astringent for people with certain reactive skin conditions, such as rosacea. Always speak to a dermatologist before using a product with harsh or stripping ingredients or consider EADEM’s AHA+PHA gentle exfoliating toner, Cashmere Peel.

Moisturize
Next, protect your skin barrier with a moisturizer that works with your skin type. Depending on the season, you may want to spring for a lighter oil/gel or a thicker cream.

For the best of both textural worlds, try EADEM’s peptide- and ceramide- enhanced Cloud Cushion that’s both lightweight and richly moisturizing for any season.
According to a 2018 study, some petrolatum-based emollients have also been shown to help maintain the healthy acidity of skin, which might be why some beauty enthusiasts swear by slugging.

Exfoliate
Occasional, once-a-week exfoliation (or as often as your skin can tolerate it) with something like EADEM’s AHA- and PHA-powered Cashmere Peel can help maintain that healthy skin barrier.

Chemical peels and microdermabrasion are more intense forms of exfoliation that can help with sloughing off dead skin for a more even skin tone. If you’re unsure how regularly to exfoliate for your skin type, it’s always helpful to ask a dermatologist.

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Tired of persistent acne? Explore proven strategies and treatments to permanently clear skin for skin of color.

From puberty to adulthood, blemishes come for us all (womp womp). The American Academy of Dermatology can prove it: They say acne is the most common skin condition among children and adults in the states.

Chances are you’re already personally acquainted with pimples in their many forms, from the volcano-like whitehead to the blackheads that pepper your T-zone. These lesions can also present as larger inflamed patches or painful cysts that feel like pressure cookers under the skin.

The resulting scarring and hyperpigmentation after a breakout is another not-so-fun side effect, and for people with darker skin tones those issues are often even more pronounced in the form of dark spots and patches. That’s because skin of color produces extra melanin — AKA the substance responsible for the color of your skin — after breakouts, inflammation, or scarring occurs.

Without further ado, here’s a primer on how acne can pose different challenges for darker skin tones, along with all the treatment options to consider if your pimples are extra persistent.

What causes acne?
Your pores (those little openings in your skin) are where acne appears. But acne starts deeper down in the sebaceous glands. When they excrete too much sebum and oil, your pores can get clogged, producing lesions and pustules such as whiteheads, blackheads, and cysts (especially when bacteria gets involved).

The following factors can also make you more likely to have acne-prone skin:

• Puberty: Children and teenagers around the ages of 8 to 14 experience an increased level of testosterone during puberty, which can ramp up your skin’s production of sebum.

• Bacteria: If you’ve been lax on washing your skin, bacteria growth, and excess oil can cause breakouts.

• Genetics: If your mom and dad had acne, chances are you’ll experience breakouts in your teenage and adult years, too.

• Medications: Steroids, antidepressants, antibiotics, and other kinds of drugs have also been shown to trigger breakouts.

How does acne affect skin of color?
Post-breakout, people with darker skin tones are especially prone to post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation, which is when certain areas of the skin appear darker than their surroundings as skin produces more melanin. PIH is just one result of acne and inflammation in the area of a pimple.

What are the best acne treatment options for skin of color?
Acne treatments don’t vary too much between skin types. Usually, you can count on either topical treatments, oral medications, or a combination of the two — depending on how severe your acne is — to work on keeping breakouts at bay. Ideally, there’s also a dermatologist involved who can point you in the right direction.

Remember that seeking early treatment for acne is especially important for people of color, since they’re more prone to hyperpigmentation and dark spots from blemish-induced skin inflammation. Here’s a breakdown of some of the most effective acne treatment options out there:

Salicylic Acid
Salicylic acid is a type of chemical exfoliant that’s considered a BHA, or beta-hydroxy acid. It’s a hero ingredient in many blemish products because of how deeply it penetrates skin and pores to clear up congestion, reduce the appearance of breakouts, and prevent further lesions from developing.

Benzoyl Peroxide
Benzoyl peroxide is another exfoliating acne treatment to know and which usually plays a supporting role to other types of AHAs (alpha-hydroxy acids) and BHAs (beta-hydroxy acids). It’s pretty potent, and helps clear away dead skin cells while killing breakout-causing bacteria.

You may have heard that benzoyl peroxide is strong enough to lighten skin of color, but that’s not true, according to the American Academy of Dermatology. The only thing you should worry about in that department is the ingredient bleaching your linens and bedding (so stick to lighter-colored sheets when using benzoyl peroxide products).

Retinol or Retinoids
For patients with severe acne, dermatologists often suggest retinoids, which are vitamin A derivatives that boost the cellular turnover of your skin — so they can help with smoothing over fine lines, decongesting your pores, and brightening skin. Topical retinoids have been shown to treat lesions in the skin and also reduce hyperpigmentation among people of color, especially when combined with other acne treatment options.

Retinol is an OTC version that stars in many night creams and other products that target fine lines. More potent prescription-strength retinoids for acne (like tretinoin, AKA retin-A) are also available at a dermatologist’s office, but head’s up that these can be very irritating to skin.

Medications
You may also be prescribed medications that can help with acne, such as:

• Antibiotics like tetracyclines (minocycline, doxycycline) and macrolides (erythromycin, azithromycin) that are taken orally

• Topical creams or gels that treat acne on the surface of the skin (such as Differin, along with products containing salicylic acid or benzoyl peroxide)

• Progesterone bi

  rth control pills that regulate hormone levels and also prevent typical acne flare-ups that occur around the time of your period

• Spironolactone is another hormone medication for women that may help with severe types of acne

• Isotretinoin (AKA accutane) is an intense acne treatment for severe cystic acne that reduces the size of the oil-producing glands in your skin and prevents skin cells form blocking the pores — though it has many harsh side effects

Other Options
Other acne-fighting options for people of color can also treat the resulting scarring and hyperpigmentation, such as:

• Topical acids like azelaic acid, ascorbic acid, and linoleic acid that exfoliate skin and promote cellular turnover

• Chemical peels, conducted via a dermatologist or aesthetician, which use stronger concentrations of acids to remove layers of skin (though people of color should avoid deep chemical peels, including ones that use phenol, which penetrate as far as the middle layer of the dermis)

• Light therapy that uses various wavelengths of light to penetrate layers of the skin and treat acne, while boosting radiance and improving your complexion (this therapy can be conducted at an esthetician or doctor’s office, though there are some over-the-counter options out there from Omnilux and Current Body, too)

Acne Treatments to Avoid
Rumor has it that cocoa butter is helpful for acne, but the truth is that all of the fats found in it can clog pores, especially around the face, back, and chest. A better bet? Reaching for a gel- or water-based formula including lightweight, non-comedogenic humectants like hyaluronic acid.

Skin-lightening products, while effective at fading dark spots, should be avoided as well. They may contain ingredients like steroids that can be damaging and irritating to skin, so it’s always a good idea to chat with a derm before trying one on your skin.

How to Prevent Acne
Preventing acne isn’t just a one-and-done box to check. It usually involves making a couple different lifestyle changes at the same time, such as:

• Switching to a water-based hair product or avoiding hair oils if you’re seeing pimples pop up along the upper forehead and temples

• Using non-comedogenic skincare products that are formulated so they won’t clog pores and also work for your skin type (for the acne-prone, this might mean avoiding oil-based formulas)

• Cleansing skin at least once a day with a mild cleanser and removing makeup before bed

• Washing hats, sports equipment, pillows, face towels, and any other accessory or device that regularly comes in contact with your face (yes, that means your phone, too!)
  

When to See a Doctor About Acne
Acne and the resulting hyperpigmentation can always ruin a good photo op. But there’s some good news: over-the-counter acne treatments and DIY techniques can really make a difference in shrinking pimples — if not overnight, then at least in the short-term — so you aren’t tempted to squeeze. Take EADEM’s Milk Marvel for example, which contains skin-brightening ingredients like licorice root and niacinamide that can diminish dark spots and hyperpigmentation.

But if you’re doing the most with your skincare and that stubborn or subcutaneous cyst isn’t going anywhere, you may want to see a professional for treatment and advice (especially if severe acne runs in the family).

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You’re only a few simple changes away to radiant, clear skin

Much like work-life “balance,” achieving skin balance is a constant juggling act of using the right skincare, sticking to a good diet, drinking enough water, and so on. It’s the one thing standing between you and smooth, supple skin that’s less prone to breakouts, signs of aging, and irritation. While we can’t help you breeze through the tasks on your iCal (sorry), we can share our top tips for more healthy skin altogether.

Understanding Skin Balance
Not sure what it means to have “balanced” skin? It helps to understand the three areas that compose healthy, balanced skin: the lipid barrier, microbiome, and skin pH. When they function at optimal levels, that’s when your skin thrives. Here’s what each component means and how to help balance them.

The Lipid Barrier
One major component of healthy skin is the lipid barrier — AKA the epidermis or the outermost layer of your skin — which serves as a protective barrier from the outside world (think: free radicals, allergens, bacteria, pollutants) and also a transport system for moisture, skincare ingredients, and beyond.

When it’s strong, it functions like the bricks in a wall or a paved road in a highway: bad stuff stays out and good nutrients are delivered easily. It functions at its strongest when it’s hydrated, helping to minimize moisture loss during the day or night and ensuring skin stays supple (so long as you treat it right — more on that below).

Its job as a guardian and receiver of moisture means that it’s crucial for maintaining healthy, hydrated skin.

The Microbiome
Another factor is your “microbiome,” a catchall term for the thriving landscape of microorganisms that live on your skin. These tiny living beings (such as bacteria, fungi, and other microbes) are often beneficial, protecting your skin from the sorts of environmental aggressors and damage that can cause inflammation, signs of aging, acne, and beyond.

A healthy microbiome, in other words, will keep your skin looking its best, though every person’s microbiome varies depending on factors such as:

• Climate and environment

• Gender

• Age

Although it’s invisible, you can tell if your microbiome is off through skin dryness, acne, excessive oiliness, or if skin conditions like rosacea and psoriasis are popping up.

Skin pH
A balance in pH, or the level of its acidity, is another way to measure the health of your skin since too much fluctuation either way can cause issues. Acidity is slightly complex, but the need-to-know intel is that 7 is the absolute neutral measure of acidity on the pH scale: anything above it is alkaline, and anything below is more acidic.

Your goal is to maintain the equilibrium of your skin, which actually sits somewhere around 5, or ever-so-slightly acidic. That also means selecting products that help you maintain your natural skin acidity (which we break down below).

What does balance mean for your skin?
Healthy, balanced skin basically means that you’ve created an ecosystem in which your moisture levels are topped up, the good bacteria which keep bad bacteria at bay are thriving, your skin pH skews slightly acidic, and you’re not experiencing an excess of sebum.

Balanced skin is what you’ll see on a “good skin day,” but for more signs of skin abundance, here’s a checklist to look out for:

• Skin feels clean, but not too “tight” or stripped after a cleanse

• Skin feels moisturized, but not greasy

• No major breakouts beyond the odd pimple

• No flakiness or patchiness

• No flare-ups in skin conditions like psoriasis, eczema, or rosacea

What causes imbalanced skin?
Now that you know what healthy skin looks like, it’s also helpful to know what can upset that fine-tuned balance. Anything from tap water to environmental stressors and diet can cause a disruption, and the effects can depend on your skin type and just how sensitive it is to change.

Here’s a lineup of potential threats to look out for:
Irritants
For people with super sensitive skin, the skincare category can be a minefield of potential irritants. Knowing which ones are most harmful to you can depend on specific allergies you may have, such as essential oils, fragrances, dyes, and preservatives — it’s why many derms recommend avoiding anything with fragrance in it, a catchall phrase that could be masking many different additives.

All of the above are considered common irritants to avoid, but if you have dry skin, you may also want to steer clear of certain types of surfactants such as sodium lauryl sulphate, a foaming agent that can cause irritation and strip skin of its natural oils. Other types of additives and emulsifiers in cleaning products like detergents and cleaning solvents can also be very harsh on skin, which is why brands recommend limiting skin exposure or wearing gloves if you’re using them.

Hormones
If you’ve ever been prescribed a progesterone birth control pill specifically for acne, you already know that hormones can make a big difference on your complexion. That’s because the fluctuation of hormones like estrogen (during a woman’s period, for example) and testosterone (during puberty) can cause your skin’s sebum levels to rise and fall, too — and increase bouts of acne during those times.

Balancing your hormones via prescription birth control pills (or some other form of hormone therapy such as spironolactone) can help with acne, though we’d recommend speaking to a dermatologist or your primary care doctor before committing to anything. These medications can make a big impact on your general health, weight, and mood, so they’re not something to take lightly!

Unbalanced Beauty Products
No surprise here, but the types of beauty products you apply to skin can affect its overall balance and health, too). A good rule of thumb is to seek out slightly acidic skincare (read more here on why), and avoid products that are overly acidic or alkaline — such as strong scrubs or bar soaps.

Avoiding certain types of inflammatory surfactants and detergents, such as sodium lauryl sulphate (a common additive that creates a lathering effect), can prevent any unnecessary skin irritation, as well. An at-home pH test from a drugstore will give you hard proof of the acidity levels of any skincare you’re using, but you can also examine whether your skin feels super dry or tight after using a product for clues on its acidity and general rightness for your skin type.

Diet
Another area to examine is your diet. This could mean cutting out things like dairy and processed sugars, especially if you notice an uptick in breakouts after eating any particular food.

Seeing results will depend on many factors such as allergies or reactions you might have to these ingredients and your skin type (but keep in mind that the research on the links between diet and your skin health is fairly limited thus far).

Top Tips To Achieve Skin Balance
Avoid Detergents & Alcohol In Skincare Products
One of the easiest ways to streamline your skincare shopping is to avoid products that contain known irritants. Surfactants like sodium lauryl sulfate (or SLS), for example, have been shown to increase skin irritation and tightness.

These are often found in foaming products like face washes, though lots of new lathering formulas out there use milder kinds of surfactants that are specially designed to be gentle on skin, so we wouldn’t avoid the category entirely.

Another ingredient to keep an eye on is alcohol which, in high amounts within a skincare product, can be very drying on skin. Know that only some types of alcohol are astringent, though, while others are actually helpful within skincare for preventing water loss in the skin and improving product consistency. (Look for harmless types like cetyl alcohol and lauryl alcohol, or find more info on ones to skip and give the go-ahead to here.)

Use Balancing Products
Prioritizing balanced products, which are formulated a certain way to preserve the natural acid mantle of your skin, is one shopping decision you can make to improve your daily skincare routine. Avoid alkaline products like bar soaps, and reach for slightly acidic ones instead, such as EADEM’s Cashmere Peel AHA+PHA Exfoliating Toner.

Avoid Refined Sugar
Refined sugars — often found in breads, pastries, and sweet drinks — have also been linked to breakouts. Studies have found that spikes in blood sugar levels cause inflammation throughout the body, which in turn leads to excess sebum production (and acne).

The research is limited, but general moderation may help you avoid “sugar face,” a term that describes the hyperpigmentation, visible aging, and increased acne associated with a high, sustained sugar intake over time.

Stay Hydrated
Hydration is vital to normal body functioning, period, so it makes sense that drinking more water can help your skin look less dehydrated, too. Moisture loss through the upper layer of the skin can leave it itchy and flaky, which is why it’s helpful to drink water whenever you feel thirsty.

The exact amount to drink depends on several factors — from your exercise habits to your environment — so there’s no magic number. But if you notice that your skin’s looking dry, especially in the colder months, it’s a sign that you need to increase your water intake or invest in different skincare products.

Try EADEM’s Dew Dream face wash that uses humectants such as glycerin to help your skin maintain moisture post-cleansing, or its Cloud Cushion moisturizer that repairs the skin barrier via ceramides and other potent ingredients.

Say Yes To Natural Anti-Inflammatories
Products that contain natural anti-inflammatory ingredients such as niacinamide, chamomile, ceramides, and licorice root (all of which show up in EADEM’s line of skincare) are also helpful for calming redness and soothing skin.

Consider Other Factors
Following these guidelines is a good blueprint for maintaining your healthy skin balance from day to day, but if something still feels off, other disruptors like the following might be the cause:

• Contraceptives

• Pregnancy

• Illnesses

• Medications

• Cold weather or dry environments

Once you know what triggers can set you back, you’ll be well on your way to achieving skin harmony — no irritation in sight.

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Heritage of Rituals
Paris, Saturday, September 20th, 2025. I love waking up in my 18th arrondissement. Its charm, its cafés, its restaurants, and the endless parade of looks I devour from morning to night like an open-air runway. In Paris, fashion and beauty aren’t accessories—they’re a language. Every morning I order my iced coffee at the corner café, thrilled to see my baristas who know my order by heart. And let’s be honest: it’s never just the coffee we love, but the ritual, the comfort of being recognized, of belonging.

The 18th is an ambivalent arrondissement: on one side, Montmartre, Sacré-Cœur, and stories in every street; on the other, a diverse and vibrant community, where small restaurants bring food culture from all over the world. Dalida once lived here, an iconic Italo-French singer, independent and unapologetic, and her presence still lingers in the atmosphere. The 18th is dynamic—full of bikes, girls running in and out of their apartments three times a day between work, sport, and soirées. It’s not about the Eiffel Tower view; it’s about authenticity, energy, and the intimacy of a neighborhood that belongs to women who love Paris in all its contradictions.

That’s how I would describe my heritage—passed down by my grandmother, a grande dame with flamboyant red hair who gave me an entire grammar of beauty. I still hear her voice: Amal, ma chérie, don’t wash your face in the morning. Double cleanse at night, but in the morning it’s toner, serum, and cream. She was relentless about protecting the skin barrier. She would perfume my hairbrush so that every strand carried fragrance through the day. These rituals are stitched into me; I repeat them every day, and in Paris they feel even more sacred.

Becoming Parisian, Becoming Myself
People often believe French women are merciless about their looks, that Paris leaves no room for diversity or individuality. But for me, the opposite is true. To be Parisian today, after the shifts of culture, means above all the courage to be yourself.

For a long time, the mythology of Parisian beauty was narrow: slender silhouettes, effortless chic, the brunette who applies one coat of mascara and slips into a simple dress. It’s the “oops, I didn’t try” aesthetic—a beauty that pretends it never thought about itself. That image was seductive, but suffocating.

Today, representation has shifted. Diversity has entered the frame: more bodies, more hair, more colors, more ways of embodying beauty while still keeping that effortless allure. On Thursdays I stroll with my girlfriends, thrifting treasures, trying on identities. Compliments may not come easily in Paris, but whenever I see a woman daring with

her personal style, I stop her to say something. Because here, everything can be in fashion—if it’s worn with conviction. Makeup or bare skin, sequins or simplicity: it’s all perfect when it tells a story.

Dating Myself
It isn’t easy to sit alone at a table with yourself. We’re trained for dinners with lovers, with friends, with colleagues. But when it’s a date with yourself, sometimes fear creeps in.

I take myself on dates in Paris often: me, a giant coffee, a pen, and my favorite notebook. Writing, uncovering, cultivating curiosity about who I am—even when the answers don’t fit what society expects. Paris is the perfect backdrop for that kind of inner travel. Everyone should date themselves at least once. Yes, it’s unsettling, even dangerous. But you leave stronger, sharper, more certain. You stop chasing what’s in fashion, because you’ve become it. You embody your essence.

Body as Battleground, Body as Home
And in those dates with myself, I always return to my body. My relationship with it has been complicated, sometimes brutal. For years I lived only on the surface, convinced beauty was a game I could never win. My body was never enough—always too much, or too little, wrong in some impossible equation.

I feared weight gained, weight lost, the wrong dress, the wrong mirror. Body image and the relationship we build with ourselves are the real pillars of well-being, yet for so long I abandoned both. Judgment, tears, anxiety—my reflection felt like an enemy. Good enough for who? For me. My mind was a storm of comparisons. And sometimes I think my first real heartbreak wasn’t with a man, but with my own body.

From Mythology to Reality
Paris sharpened the wound. This city carries a mythology of beauty: the effortless silhouette, the untouchable chic, a suffocatingly narrow idea of what it means to be enough. Representation was missing—bodies, faces, hair that dared to be different were invisible.

But change happens when we force it, when we stop waiting for an invitation and build our own chair at the table. I stopped bending to Parisian clichés and started honoring my own beauty, layered with my grandmother’s wisdom, layered with French culture itself. That, to me, is powerful: connecting to culture and self-expression without clinging to outdated standards that never told my story.

Beauty in culture is unique beauty. For too long we were told that bold noses weren’t beautiful. But every nose carries a story, a lineage, a power. Paris has taught me to walk into a room with my beauty, unapologetic. The transformation came when I shifted from “I am not enough” to “I am.” From the endless not-enough to the full force of identity.

The Ritual of Skincare
I remember myself as a teenager, spending hours in front of the mirror. How do I learn to love my face? How do I wear makeup? How does beauty become a language of expression rather than a kind of torture, a spiral into “I am not enough”?

At thirty, I cherish skincare and makeup the way I cherish writing: as a ritual. I give myself the best of what I can, for my own definition of beauty. Skincare, makeup, hair, clothing—every axis of beauty is part of a long journey of healing.

At sixteen, I didn’t understand skincare. All I wanted was to erase the pimples that haunted me, without any understanding of how to respect or protect my skin. I hid behind makeup. Today I call this stage “healing”: not hiding, but revealing.

My skincare, morning and night, has become a moment for me. Sometimes I listen to a podcast or flip through the pages of Vogue while my serum sinks in. It is not a desperate gesture anymore, but an act of protection, of listening, of allowing my skin to speak.

I’ve also accepted who I am in beauty: I can admire the iconic full-face looks, but my heart belongs to the “fashion + skincare with lips combo.” I’ve stopped pretending I love spending an hour on makeup. What makes me happy is five minutes of makeup and thirty minutes of skincare. Knowing this about myself makes me more at peace, more aligned.

The Lineage in the Mirror
When I look at myself, I see the women in my family. Strong, resilient, powerful. Some I never met, others I know by heart—the ones who gave me my very first skincare routine. In my reflection I see a history, a resilience, a lineage, and I want to see that every day. The Parisian doesn’t need to be a cliché from the movies. She makes her own rules. She is strong. She is hydrated. And she never fears being too much or not enough. Her own gaze, turned inward, is what matters most.

And maybe that is what moves me most: the thought that my grandmother Malika would have loved to read these words. Because they honor the inheritance she gave me, while also naming the new battles my generation has fought—and won—in places she could not. Transmission is personal, intimate, almost secret. But the moment you share it, it becomes alive again. Each story, each ritual, is another way of keeping her present. And maybe that is the real definition of beauty: to inherit, to transform, and to pass it on.

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Like most immigrant children, I grew up speaking the language of longing. Not for material goods (although those impulses would emerge eventually) but for experiences beyond my own purview. Mostly I coveted romantic tropes I’d learned from books or movies: How families would gather in kitchens thick with chatter and warm bodies, as in Diane Keaton’s films; or how girls would forge friendships in their bedrooms after school, as in The Baby-Sitters Club.

Most indelible in my memory were the mother-daughter interactions in Gilmore Girls: the way Rory watched her mother Lorelai prepare for dates, dipped into her mom’s makeup stash, and borrowed her favorite clothes. Today I still find myself harboring a strange nostalgia for moments that I’ve never experienced: watching my own mother slip on her favorite dress, sneaking a spray of her signature perfume, or applying lipstick exactly like her. Girls learned how to exist in the world through observational osmosis. But, to my chagrin, my mother never put on a show.

Perhaps I am so fond of beauty rituals because my mother is a woman who lives without them. She never wears makeup or jewelry or anything scented. She certainly does not have a skincare routine. If she washes her face at all, it’s done inconspicuously in the shower. She’s always been like this. Even at the height of winter in Quebec City, her moisturizing regimen consisted of a few swipes of Vaseline to the cheeks. “It’s all you need,” she’d say. Cheap, effective, even doubles as lip balm.

For my mother, skincare was synonymous with indulgence, as was any form of beauty maintenance beyond fundamental hygiene. Haircuts were not something one paid for, but something done at home in the mirror. Makeup constituted vanity, even simple-mindedness, for surely one would flaunt their intelligence — not their “features” — if given the choice. Since hands were for labour, nails were kept short and clean.

So goes the immigrant’s narrative of survival, and its characteristic asceticism: keeping worn clothes for rags, wearing layers instead of heating the house, reusing every container. What was not a need was a want, and wants were always wasteful.

But where my mother eschewed scented products, I studied perfumery in the South of France. While she was frugal by nature, I developed an incorrigible shopping habit, which was tied up in my own messy story of self-worth and mental health. Among my countless purchases — natural wines, Japanese ceramics, designer coats — were beauty products, which I found myself acquiring with abandon.

Unlike my mom’s barren bathroom, mine was fully stocked. I collected hydrating toners, moisturizers of varying thickness, and serums brimming with “actives.” There were face oils for brightening, soothing, and preventing. At least three of my lipstick shades could be described as terracotta. Most of these were acquired in private, after we’d stopped living in the same house. I’d learned my lesson at fifteen, when she deemed my first-ever skincare purchase — a medicated cleanser to treat hormonal acne — unnecessary. What can a face cleanser do that a washcloth can’t? she asked. (She has never had acne, obviously.) Why pay money to wash it down the drain? To this day, the invisible price tags hovering above the bottles in my medicine cabinet still occasionally summon my critical voice. It sounds an awful lot like her.

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence,” says Audre Lorde. “It’s self-preservation.” Although endlessly quoted and commodified as a slogan for rich women to justify their costly wellness habits, the essence of Lorde’s words still ring true. After all, care is an attention which we often reserve for others, and rarely for ourselves. This is doubly true for immigrant parents.

My mother never took time to care for herself, because something else always took precedence: learning a new language in Quebec City, juggling graduate studies while caring for two children, managing household finances to pay off the mortgage as soon as possible. (She did it in five years.) Simply, there were too many needs to leave room for her wants. And she survived the only way she knew how: by sacrificing her longings so that her children could lead a life very different from her own. Though selfless, I always wonder what she lost of herself in the process.

Simply, there were too many needs to leave room for her wants. And she survived the only way she knew how: by sacrificing her longings so that her children could lead a life very different from her own. Though selfless, I always wonder what she lost of herself in the process.

As for me, I mistook self-indulgence for self-preservation. My obsession with beauty wasn’t grounded in the belief that I am deserving, but rather the capitalist maxim: I deserve it. After having a disposable income for the first time, I felt that I deserved all of it: the expensive serums, the cheek stains, the products that promised Rihanna-level porelessness. Slowly, I drained my bank account while the products sat on the shelf, unused. Only then did I learn that self-care products do not constitute self-care, and an excess of them left me feeling empty in more ways than one.

In those ways, my mom and I both got it wrong. By choosing survival, she neglected her own care. By choosing self-indulgence, I actively opted into my own self-destruction. Eventually I found my balance: It exists somewhere between the bare minimum required to survive and the excess I assumed was needed to thrive. These days I am learning to listen to my needs and honor them accordingly. Often the answer isn’t a new wellness product, but instead a walk around the block, a favorite song, or a long-distance phone call. However sometimes a thick, expensive moisturizer that smells like orange flowers and reminds me of the summer within me truly does the trick.

I still sometimes watch my mom turn off the water to shampoo her hair or chop off her dead ends with kitchen scissors. While not quite the scenes of observational mimicry for which I yearned, these acts of survival taught me the value of self-preservation: How I can need less, and still want more for myself. It’s a painful and necessary lesson: one generation’s sacrifice is another’s chance to choose. Now whenever I hear my critical voice chime in — chastising me for acquiring something on the basis of joy alone or opting for the nicer option, much like my mom would — I’ve learned to say to myself what I’ve always wanted to say to her: You deserve it, and you are deserving. It feels a little truer every time.

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The presence of turmeric can be traced back to nearly four thousand years ago. In Sushruta Samhita, a foundational text of Ayurveda, the Indian physician Sushruta recommends the use of an ointment containing turmeric to alleviate the symptoms of food poisoning in 250 B.C.

Originally from South and Southeast Asia, turmeric grows as a verdant plant with a lean, spiny flower above ground. Beneath the earth its knobby, parched-looking root contains a center that, when sliced or grated, is golden in color. Turmeric was a medicinal and culinary mainstay throughout the Asian and African continents and amongst Indigenous communities for centuries. In my Bengali household, turmeric was ubiquitous: we applied it to our skin, consumed it for ailments, and without it cooking would have been impossible.

The late-capitalist postcolonial appropriation of turmeric from the global South (before that we were the “developing world” or the “third world”) by the global North (known as the “developed world” or the “first world”) illuminates the audacity and neglect with which white people have historically and categorically assumed authority over cultures not belonging to them, upending tradition into trend, and whitewashing it just enough that it erases historical and cultural context but imprinting upon it an exotic fetishism. Juices, tonics, milks, and lattes containing turmeric are often dubbed “elixirs,” as if alluding to some form of mysticism contained within the root, exoticizing an ingredient which has been a household and medicinal staple in South Asian, South East Asian, Indigenous, East African, South African, West African, and North African communities for thousands of years. A “Turmeric Elixir” is suggestive of a newly-discovered mystery potion, stripping turmeric of its cultural context and significance in just its naming, and shedding its colonial and post-colonial narrative as part of its rebranding. In its renaming alone, the root retains a fantastical exotic fetishism while being neutered into something easily palatable to the intended white consumer of means, and pushing out the people from whom the root was taken from. To the appropriator, turmeric is a means to a profitable end. To me, it’s Ammu’s cooking and Apu’s Gaye Holud; it’s Nanu at her sil-pata (stone slab) with her grinding stone, making a paste from freshly picked roots bought from the market just past dawn. It’s family and home.

Turmeric, as it is fashionably known today, is the colonial name of the root, which derives from Latin. In Sanskrit, one of the first languages which mentions turmeric, the root is named Haridra. It has 53 other names, including “Ratrimanika” (as beautiful as moonlight) and “Laxmi” (prosperity). I knew it by its Bangla name, Holud, meaning “yellow”. When I moved to America at the age of 20, I scanned the aisles of Indian, Bangladeshi, and Pakistani grocery stores for “Haldi” (the Hindi and Urdu name for the root). Until my early twenties I was entirely unfamiliar with the word “turmeric” but then it suddenly became inescapable: Dr. Oz waxed poetic to my parents on television about the health benefits of turmeric. In New York City I couldn’t pass a cafe or juice store without “GOLDEN MYLK LATTE!” and “TURMERIC ELIXIR!” taunting me from menus.

Unlike wellness “gurus,” I could never be able to list the benefits of turmeric. However I could tell you that holud was so foundational to Bengali culture and to the subcontinent — before the borders and after the borders — to our neighbors, to the three generations of women before me, and the women and men generations before them, that the commodification and rebranding of such a mainstay food would have been, and remains today, comical.

An integral part of Bengali culture, Gaye Holud, which translates to “turmeric on the body,” is a pre-wedding celebration during which friends and family are invited to apply holud bata (turmeric paste) on the skin of those getting married. While the paste is smeared on the skin for its healing and beautifying properties that lends a deep glow to the skin, it is also done as an act of love and an imparting of blessings. Like most Bengali traditions, the Gaye Holud has always been communal in its essence: it gives friends and family an opportunity to converse and connect; younger family members and friends a chance to choreograph dances and musical performances. Food is abundant. And, towards end of the night, all furniture is pushed aside and even the shyest of aunties and uncles congregate on the makeshift dance floor with frenetic energy.

My first Gaye Holud was that of my aunt’s. It took place on the rooftop of my grandparent’s building. My mother, her brothers, and their friends decorated the open space with twinkling fairy lights, deep orange Genda phool (marigolds), and fragrant Rajanigandha (tuberose). In our family, it was tradition for Nanu, my grandmother, to prepare the turmeric paste; it was not so much ceremonial as it was a given. My grandmother procured fresh holud from the market the morning of the Gaye Holud, and then, seated on her low wooden stool, would grind it down into a paste on her sil pata with a grinding stone. When it was my turn to apply holud to my aunt’s skin at her Gaye Holud, I was giddy. To my six year old self, it seemed an immense privilege and responsibility to be able to express my love for my aunt through such an intimate and tender act. I took a generous helping of holud, deep yellow and cool on my fingertips, and gently smeared it along her cheek, already tinted yellow from prior applications by my elders.

More than twenty years later, at my cousin’s Gaye Holud, a year after my grandmother passed away, I felt the great weight of my grandmother’s absence. I missed her acts of devotion and care, rising at dawn to hurry to the fresh market to find the best picks of turmeric root, and then working them down into a paste with her slender hands and the heavy stone, into which we would later dip our fingers to impart our love and blessings, one singular act of love evolving into a communal expression of love.

Within the parameters of my culture and my people, turmeric isn’t a magical elixir. It evokes and enables customs of love and care. It’s the warm hue of my grandmother’s daal (which I long for now); the memories of innumerable Gaye Holuds I’ve attended; the go-to remedy lauded by pushy aunties at the faintest rise of a pimple. But beyond the safety of my Bengali family and my Bengali home, turmeric marked my “otherness.” Generously used in Bengali cooking as a spice, turmeric leaves a faint yellow trace on the fingernails, something that was brought to my attention when a white former co-worker commented on my “yellow fingernails” with a disgusted look. This exchange made me cognizant of my otherness and the otherness of my culture in an American landscape, within which it is constantly demanded of people who are not white to either assimilate or code-switch in order to placate the insecurities of white people who hold fast to their ignorance without fail.

While it was perfectly alright for white people to appropriate turmeric and propagate it as “mylks” and “elixirs” and still comfortably belong, my turmeric-stained nails, the sign of having eaten with my hands, marked me as uncouth, foreign, other. By commodifying and removing turmeric from its cultural context to suit a capitalist marketplace, the West further pushes people for whom these foods evoke a way of life, comfort, home to the margins.

Since the rapid rise and popularity of turmeric in the beauty and wellness industry, it seemed that turmeric would be fated to cultural and historical erasure, but Black and POC-owned brands such as Pratima, Golde, Aavrani, Soma Ayurvedic, Ranavat and Diaspora Co. are reclaiming a lost narrative. The wellness brand Golde was born when co-founder Trinity Mouzon Wofford became disillusioned by the holistic healthcare system that had become financially inaccessible for her mother, who was receiving care for an autoimmune disease. Mouzon Wofford was studying medicine at New York University to become a holistic MD, but abandoned her dreams because of the lack of access and intersectionality in holistic care. Eventually, Mouzon Wofford returned to holistic care by founding Golde with her fiancé Issey Kobori, with the intention of fostering inclusivity, instead of being yet another wellness brand to cater to wealthy white women. Diaspora Co., founded by Sana Javeri Kadri, was established with the vision of equity and the intent of reframing what it means to be “Made in India.” Working closely with partner farmers, who have historically been exploited and erased in the mass commodification of turmeric, Diaspora Co. works actively to decolonize the spice trade, and reclaims ownership of the production and sale of turmeric according to a principle of “for us, by us”, as Javeri Kadri states.

This ethos of “for us, by us” is central to these Black and POC-owned brands: they control the narrative. Situating turmeric within a cultural context that locates its origins, history, and social significance, these brands honor a thousands year-old staple and its traditions by staying true to its narrative and reconfiguring it to adapt to more modern times. Their work is vital not only because they protect and preserve cultural practices and traditions, but also because they empower people and communities to take pride in and hold close to what inherently belongs to them, making it permissible — encouraging even — to embrace home and the feeling of belonging.

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