WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG, YOU'RE HOT.
You don't wash your face before bed.
Your ‘sunscreen’ is SPF 4 bronzing oil.
You eat cold pizza for breakfast and drink cheap beer for dinner and stuff your face with late night brownies and guess what?
You're still hot.

AND THIS IS YOUR LIVED TRUTH FOR SO LONG THAT YOU TAKE BEING HOT FOR GRANTED AND ASSUME YOUR HOTNESS IS INFINITE LIKE THE UNIVERSE.

Until one day - a Sunday morning, probably - you notice something, well, different.
Maybe it's a crease-like shadow darkening your brow.
An errant head hair that's suspiciously pale and crinkly.
OR MAYBE YOU WALK ACROSS A NEARBY COLLEGE CAMPUS FOR A MACADAMIA NUT LATTE AND YOU FEEL VIOLENTLY UNSEEN BY STRANGERS.
Your stomach freezes in icy awareness: You have passed "peak hotness" and are now in danger of sliding into the Hotness Irrelevance Abyss that swallowed all the Spice Girls, except Posh.
Your war against skin entropy - "skintropy" let’s call it - has begun.
You do what any rational hot person would do: You brace yourself for the impending nuclear winter of your 40's, try not to smile or laugh or emote more evil lines into existence, and stockpile all the high-tech wrinkle-blasting ammo you can get your hands on. You panic text a hot friend for their dermatologist.
Because if you just give up and give in while the others fight,
YOU'LL BE THE ONLY ONE LOOKING 70 AT AGE 70 WHEN ALL YOUR 70-YEAR-OLD FRIENDS ARE GIVING "70 IS THE NEW 50" VIBES,
which will make you secretly loathe them and their slightly less crepe-y necks.
Then you'll be old, hideous and friendless and after that you'll die alone.
NoooOOO! You quickly make a new life goal, screw the Keurig pods: Be a hot, sexy old person who dies surrounded by lots of other hot, sexy old people.
But soon, like all future hot, sexy old people, you discover that the fight against aging is exhausting and expensive. "How much longer must we cling to the Collagen Cliffs by our perfectly manicured coffin-shaped acrylic fingernails?!" you scream. Somewhere in the distance a Kardashian unleashes a maniacal peal of laughter. You shudder and apply more self-tanner.
Just when you're about to throw your 401k toward a full-face transplant, or worse, give up on your face completely, you are struck out of nowhere with a bolt of truth:
YOU CAN'T BE HOT FOREVER.
BUT YOU WILL ALWAYS BE BEAUTIFUL.
More truth (and skincare) coming Fall 2024.

