Science & pseudoscience geekery...
...explaining why your (ok, my) refillable hand wash looks manky and what to do about it, and why "longevity", the latest buzzword in beauty isn't all it seems...
I love it when I realise that science has just explained something that’s been bugging me for ages. And I sound like I’m talking about something really deep, but in this instance I’m talking about why a couple of bottles of handwash that I’d refilled just looked super manky. Bear with me…
Now I love a refill option and handwash is one of the products that, given the chance, I will always refill (and I’m not that bothered whether I’m refilling it with the original or something that was on offer / smells similar / I’ve been sent.) Maybe I’m just a slattern but it never really occurred to me to do anything more than a cursory rinse of the bottle. Sometimes, I’ve been known to not even do that, just pour the new stuff on top of the old. Most of the time this is just fine, but there have been occasions where it looks like the new one doesn’t mix properly with the old. Usually I assume that eventually the old stuff will get pumped out and the new stuff will settle but that doesn’t always happen. Sometimes it looks scummy, and stays scummy. And now I know why…
A few weeks ago Caroline Hirons posted a link to a post by a professor of epidemiology. He was talking about some research that looked at bacterial contamination of refillable bottles. Do have a look at the reel as I think it’s really interesting but, if you can’t be bothered… He basically talks about two different studies that have been done: one where researchers checked into 20 hotels, took samples from the shampoo, soap etc bottles and tested them. More than three quarters contained levels of bacteria that the FDA would not find acceptable in cosmetic products. The other looked at how bacteria gets into products like this.
And it’s not good news for those of us who use standard pump bottles of handwash because it’s all down to the way in which bacteria can get in through the top of the pump and then form biofilms — essentially a bunch of bacteria hanging out together that have produced a slimy layer of gunk (not a scientific word) to protect themselves. That slimy feel you get on the inside of vase once you take the flowers out? Biofilm. The slippery coating on the top of rocks in streams? Biofilm. That weird scummy layer on the top of my hand soap? Biofilm. Gross.
Maybe there are a load of you out there thinking “well duh”, maybe I’m the only one that hadn’t really cottoned on to the idea that just because soap can be used to get rid of bacteria, doesn’t mean bacteria can’t form within it. I mean the slight horror is that I was only aware of it in bottles that are clear. I kind of dread to think what’s going on in the opaque bottles.
Am I going to stop refilling my soap bottles? No, I’m not. The studies didn’t link any contamination with any infection, and as well as saving you money, buying a refill in flexible plastic or a larger container compared to buying and re-buying a small bottle and pump again can save an estimated 75 per cent of the plastic. But what I am going to start doing is properly washing the bottles and pumps (well, putting them through the dishwasher), and drying them out before I refill them.
Some of my favourite refill options include: Marks & Spencer’s Warmth (£9.50) which smells a lot like Le Labo’s Santal 33; L’Occitane Verbena (£22.10) a burst of citrus sunshine; Wild’s Amber & Oud (£5.50) — I didn’t know the deodorant brand did body wash too but turns out they do and I like this one, which isn’t too oud-y if you’re worried about that. And, of course, Le Petit Marseillais Olive Oil (£3.98, but you’ll spend a fortune on postage and you’re better picking up a load from Carrefour for 99 cents each — about 85p — when you’re in France.)
(Oh, and when it comes to handwash and shower gel, I’m fairly indiscriminate. If I love the smell of a handwash — Aesop Resurrection (£33) for example — I’ll buy it and use it as my shower gel. And if I’ve run out of handwash and have a glut of shower gel, I’ll refill the soap dispensers with that. In one of her Style beauty columns last year, India Knight wrote:
For some reason the one thing I really resent spending money on is stuff to wash with in the shower. I think it’s because the briefness of the relationship is made so explicit — you literally watch whatever you’ve used go down the plughole within minutes.
Whereas I feel quite the opposite. I genuinely think there is nothing more wonderful than a joy-giving shower wash. It’s a moment of solitude before the day begins, it’s a daily indulgence that just makes me happy, hence why I think it’s worth spending a bit of money on if you find something you love.)
There’s an old adage in journalism which says that if there’s a question in a headline the answer is invariably “No.” You know the sort of thing. “Could your beauty regime be giving you cancer?” “Will this one-minute hack revolutionise your life?” etc etc. But when I spotted a headline on Cosmetics Business asking “Is ‘longevity washing’ beauty’s next big issue?” I thought “YES!” Or maybe more accurately “Yes! Someone has finally articulated the thing that has been churning around my brain for a while.” Because I feel like longevity washing is already a thing.
I’ve been talking a lot recently about the evolution of the beauty industry — how it’s moved from being very superficial to an understanding that beauty is more than what we see on the surface, it’s more holistic, more aligned with wellbeing and self-care, mental health and physical health. Now I have a LOT of thoughts about this — most of them fairly cynical — that I might dig into another time. But in many ways it’s not surprising that the term “longevity”, which is a huge focus in the health and wellness sphere at the moment, has infiltrated the beauty space.
Beauty marketing is rife with pseudoscience, and has an ignominious history of glomming on to the latest scientific news in a bid to bask in its reflected glory, whether or not the products being marketed actually use the same technology. In the last two decades alone I’ve seen topical products boasting laser technology, drone technology, stem cell technology, genomics, epigenetics and more. So quel surprise that the minute that longevity becomes a buzzword, we see a load of products promising to help skin’s “longevity.”
First things first, just because that’s the marketing spin, it doesn’t mean that the products themselves aren’t any good, that’s not the issue. What I have a problem with is the idea that whacking the word of the moment in there suggests that a product is doing something that existing products aren’t.
I was sent a press release with the following quote from Dr Alexis Granite, a consultant dermatologist and founder of body care brand, Joonbyrd. (Love her, love her brand, this isn’t about her, I genuinely think she was trying to explain the trend.) She says:
“The term “longevity” in skincare often refers to protecting the skin from premature ageing, maintaining a resilient barrier and supporting cellular processes that slow down with time.”
To me that sounds a lot like anti-ageing skincare. And I think that’s exactly what’s happened here.
In many circles, the term “anti-ageing” has become taboo. Since Allure decreed back in 2017 that they wouldn’t use the phrase any more, we’ve seen more and more brands and individuals take a similar stance. The theory is that we shouldn’t be against ageing, we should be pro it, the alternative is death, why are we being negative about a natural process yada yada yada. Personally, it’s not something that I can really get exercised about. Outside of the beauty echo chamber, people are still happily calling products “anti-ageing”, that’s the search term they’re using, and — believe me — they still want to get rid of their wrinkles.
So how, as a brand, that wants to carry on selling anti-ageing products (because that’s what makes money) do you do that without using the dreaded AA phrase? Well thank goodness “longevity” popped up when it did. Because it sounds so much more positive than anti-ageing. Longevity is about health, aspiration, living well for longer.
When I went to the launch of the Paula’s Choice CellularYouth Longevity Serum the other day, it was explained to me that anti-ageing was about correcting stuff and longevity was about prevention, protection, maintaining the status quo. In a release I got about Beau Domaine skincare — which, incidentally, to me looks a lot like Caudalie with the addition of Brad Pitt — I was told “Beau Domaine embodies a new generation of skincare: ‘Slow Aging’ innovation that boosts skin longevity.”
And maybe it’s me, I’m the problem. Because I long ago gave up believing that any skincare is going to transform my skin in some amazing, miraculous, unrecognisable before-and-after fashion (except maybe something that is an anti-pigmentation powerhouse) and honestly, that’s largely not why I use skincare. With the exception of my pigmentation, I generally — touch wood — have well-behaved skin. And the reason that I use tretinoin and look after my barrier, and wear broad spectrum sun protection and all the rest of it is not because of how it’s going to look tomorrow, or in a week’s time, or a month’s time, but because I firmly believe that in ten years time, my skin will look better and perform better than if I hadn’t.
I saw Ruth Crilly the other day mention thiswomanlifts on Instagram, a trainer whose tagline is “Training for my old lady body” — the idea is that she’s not lifting weights to get fit for today but to stay fit for the future. And that’s kind of how I feel. My skincare today is for the face I want in 10, 20, 30 years time. The skin I have today is the legacy of what I’ve been doing for the last 10, 20 years.
It’s boring, it’s not flashy, it’s the tortoise when all social media wants is the hare. It’s the change you don’t see rather than the change you do. And you can call it slow ageing, or anti-ageing, or longevity, or whatever you want, but let’s not pretend that just because you’ve changed the label that what’s in the bottle is doing anything different.
I’ve been doing a lot of chatting on panels recently and I’ve really been enjoying it. I love the fact that it forces me to put makeup on, leave the house, talk to other people and wing it a bit. It’s the complete opposite of the writing I normally do (solo, barefaced, reworked and revised). I love that it keeps me on my toes and lets me interact with people IRL and hear the questions that people have about what I do. So hello if you saw me with Dr Marwa Ali at The Beauty Triangle Festival last month or earlier this week at White City House with Jenni Falconer, Olivia Falcon and Lavina Mehta.
If you fancy seeing more of me talking with interesting people, I’m going to be at The Ordinary pop-up in East London this Saturday discussing active ingredients with one of their scientists, Rita Silva — it’s free but you need to book your tickets in advance. Hope to see you there.
Until next time…
Note: I only enthuse about products I really rate, but I can earn commission on products I mention here. If you hate the idea of this, please let me know, as this is very much a work in progress and nothing is set in stone.
Yup, I wrote about this a few months ago too. Longevity = anti-aging = a way to sell stuff
Hugely enjoyable read. I’ll bore you with my two pence worth on refills when I see you.