Obsession: My Bathroom Cabinet Is Basically a Chemistry Lab
I am cheap about Botox and Filler but wind up spending just as much on bullsh*t product.
There was a time when getting ready for bed meant washing my face, slapping on some moisturizer, and calling it a night.
Actually...there was a time when one product did just about everything.
Remember Noxzema?
That blue jar sat in just about every bathroom. It removed your makeup, washed your face, treated pimples, soothed a sunburn, cooled your skin after a day at the beach, and if we’re being honest, probably cured a broken heart too. We didn’t have a 12-step skincare routine—we had Noxzema and a washcloth.
IF, and only IF, we had more than Noxema, it was Ivory soap, Noxema and Oil of Olay!
Those were simpler times.
Now? My bathroom cabinet looks like it belongs in a high school science lab. Somewhere between turning forty and fifty, I apparently enrolled in Advanced Facial Chemistry without realizing it and started clicking “Buy Now” more often than not.
Every bottle promises something different.
Vitamin C brightens.
Retinol renews.
Hyaluronic acid hydrates.
Peptides firm.
Niacinamide calms.
Eye cream depuffs.
Neck cream tightens.
SPF protects.
The moisturizer seals everything in like some kind of skincare Tupperware.
I don’t even know what half of these ingredients are anymore, but if someone on Instagram with flawless skin says I need it, into the shopping cart it goes. BUY NOW!
My nightly routine has become a carefully choreographed performance.
First, cleanse.
Then Vitamin C. Wait...that’s the morning.
Retinol. No, not on the same night as the exfoliating acid.
Moisturizer.
Eye cream.
Neck cream.
Lip mask.
Did I remember my sunscreen this morning? Is it too late to apply it at 8 p.m.?
At this point, I spend more time preparing my face for bed than I spend sleeping. (Thanks peri/meno)
And don’t even get me started on the instructions.
Use only at night.
Avoid sunlight.
Don’t mix with this.
Don’t layer with that.
Apply to damp skin.
Apply to dry skin.
Wait three minutes.
Wait thirty seconds.
Somewhere along the way, skincare stopped feeling like self-care and started feeling like homework.
The funny thing is, I actually enjoy it. I 100% know I am doing it all wrong and it probably make ZERO difference in my aging (remember that thing called genetics?)
There’s something oddly comforting about ending the day with a little routine. It’s ten quiet minutes where nobody needs anything from me, and I’m doing something that’s just for me.
Will every serum erase every wrinkle? Probably not.
Will every cream magically make me look thirty-five again? Definitely not.
And here’s the part that makes me laugh.
After spending hundreds of dollars on miracle serums in sleek glass bottles with names I can’t pronounce, I discovered that one of my favorite toners is still a bottle of Witch Hazel that costs about $2.99.
Go figure.
Maybe our mothers and grandmothers knew a thing or two after all.
At twenty-five, I was trying to be beautiful.
At fifty, I’m trying to be healthy, confident, and comfortable in the face that’s smiled, cried, laughed, worried, and continues to live a whole lot of life.
Somewhere under all these miracle products is the face I started with.
She’s just collected a few stories along the way.
🎧 Spotify Pick Flowers - Miley
💭 The Big Question Is my medicine cabinet the reason I learned the period table?
☕ The Big O Afterthought If I need a spreadsheet or the help of AI to remember my skincare routine, it might be time to simplify.