In the quiet past, skincare was simple. A rinse with fresh water, the application of nothing fancy but natural ingredients like rosewater or herbal creams, maybe a handmade remedy passed down through generations. Today, it’s has now become 10-step skincare routine, an arsenal of serums, essences, acids, and elixirs promising glassy perfection. Change, after all, is the only constant. But somewhere along this road of evolution, have we crossed from care into obsession?

 Today skincare industry thrives on awareness or at least the illusion of it.We often hear words like skin barrier, fancy words like "ceramides," "AHAs," and "BHAs" that had found their way into everyday conversations. Best  part of it is  that consumers are more aware about what they apply to their skin. Knowledge is power, but it can also be a marketing tool. if we take a closer look it reveals a different reality, where labels boast of revolutionary ingredients, the actual concentration may be so minuscule (0.1%, sometimes even less) that their promised effects are more aspirational than achievable.

 Still, we buy stuff. Not always because we need it, but because something within us — perhaps a blend of curiosity, insecurity, and hope tells us we must. Skincare trends go viral overnight, and the next morning, shelves are emptied. A decade ago, a basic cleanse and moisturizing routine was enough. Today, anything less than a 12 step regime feels almost inadequate, as if minimalism is negligence.

 The viral Korean glass skin trend is a prime example. Achieving skin so dewy it could reflect light like a mirror sounds magical. But how often do we pause to consider that  this viral Korean skin trend, largely Asian, is genetically different from Caucasian or African skin? How often do we factor in geography, climate, diet, and lifestyle before importing foreign beauty ideals wholesale?

 Instead, what is viral out there we start chasing it without context, layering diffrent products over products, often disrupting the very skin barriers we now so religiously vow to protect. In our eagerness for flawless skin, we forget the basis fact that every skin type has its own needs, its own pace of healing, and its own definition of health.

 I don't think so it's fair to entirely paint the beauty industry as the sole villain. Brands innovate because there is demand. But there is a subtle sometimes not so subtle, manipulation at play.We often hear new "hero" ingredients is in the market that works  miracles . Words like "peptides," "niacinamide," "retinol," flash across packaging, rarely mentioning that true skin transformation requires more than trace amounts, and certainly more than a few days.

 The greater responsibility, however, falls on us the consumers.In today's world that celebrates instant results, patience feels outdated. But skin health, like overall health, is built slowly, organically, through mindful living, balanced diets rich in antioxidants, restful sleep that allows the body to repair, proper hydration, and emotional well-being. Yet these habits are neither glamorous nor easily sold. They don't come in glittery bottles with promising slogans. They demand consistency, patience, and a conscious choice every day.

Lets take a moment and ask ourselves, are we truly listening to what our skin  actually needs, or are we trying to force it into an unrealistic concept crafted by commercial interests?

Perhaps it’s time we slowed down, questioned the promises, and remembered that our skin, like us, thrives best not on excess, but on mindful care. Skincare should be a reflection of self-respect, not a pursuit of flawlessness.

 After all, beauty isn’t found in the 10 step routines.

It’s found in balance and in knowing when enough is truly enough.