A few years ago, after a decade spent tithing embarrassing portions of my meager salary to the French face cream gods in an attempt to soothe symptoms ranging from dark circles to boyfriendlessness, I quit products cold turkey. I'd like to credit this to some new sense of perspective or at least a hobby, but what really happened is that I read several articles about parabens in breast tumors, and my fear of cancer trumped my fear of wrinkles.
I start simple, with the Olay Professional Pro-X Advanced Cleansing System, a less-expensive version of Clarisonic, the popular motorized exfoliating brush. But first I call Dr. Debra Jaliman, author of, to find out what benefits, if any, to realistically expect. Surprisingly, she proclaims herself a"big believer" in some at-home devices."Is the Olay as good as what I can do with the diamond-tip microdermabrator in my office?" she says."No. But it still helps.
I'm more skeptical about LightStim for Wrinkles, a little palm-size number that promises to use"LED light therapy to stimulate cells, thereby increasing the production of collagen and elastin." While LEDs have been used in dermatologists' offices for years, these claims seem specious coming from what looks like a fancy flashlight. When I turn it on one evening, its tiny lights illuminate my face, yet I don't feel anything.
Still, I can't help trying one last LED device: the Fine-Light Skin Rejuvenation System — if only because it takes its aesthetic cues from Hannibal Lecter. A huge, clunky plastic mask barnacled with tiny lightbulbs, its box includes a rechargeable battery pack and tinted safety glasses. I read the instructions three times before I'm even able to put the damn thing on.