Throughout my life as a woman, skincare has been both my closest friend and my most sworn enemy. My Irish and acne-prone roots have done me no favors in the complexion department, fueling years of late-night, insecurity-laden binges scouring forums and learning basic chemistry to improve my facial landscape.
As an adult, I’ve discovered that, in the words of
, most skincare is, of course, a scam; Tretinoin is my friend; and the dry LA weather most certainly is not. These days, while my hormonal acne persists, I’m more concerned about my dehydrated skin and no doubt damaged barrier. My propensity for drinking out of straws and smoking bongs probably doesn’t help matters either.That said, I’m here to offer some products I co-sign to protect a stoner’s skin, no matter how sensitive.
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