eOpicle

The beauty industry deserves an award. Not for making us look younger. Not for curing acne. Not for somehow convincing grown adults that snail mucus belongs on their faces. No, it deserves an award for convincing millions of people that happiness is always one more purchase away. Every week there's a new miracle. Every month there's a revolutionary ingredient that supposedly makes the last revolutionary ingredient obsolete. Every influencer wakes up looking suspiciously flawless and tells me that the secret was a serum they've "been using forever," despite the fact that it didn't exist three Tuesdays ago. I've spent enough money chasing glowing skin that I probably could have paid off someone's student loans. The embarrassing part isn't even the money. It's the hope. Every purchase came with this tiny little fantasy that maybe this was the one. Maybe this moisturizer would finally erase years of questionable life decisions. Maybe this cleanser ...