Why Is Everything 'Skin Barrier' Now?

The re-brand 'skin' didn't know it needed.

For a long time, skin was just... skin. We were taught to figure out if we were dry, oily, combo or ‘normal’ and then we washed it, we moisturized it, and we threw a mask on it accordingly. But these days, you can’t scroll through a feed or walk down a beauty aisle without being bombarded by the term “Skin Barrier.” As an old bird beauty editor, here’s my take on the not-so-sneaky re-brand.

I first started hearing about “skin barrier” through the classic brick-and-mortar analogy, while learning about ceramides at Elizabeth Arden press events in the early aughties. They pioneered the use of ceramides in skincare, and taught me that if your skin cells are the bricks in your stratum corneum (the outermost layer of the epidermis), ceramides are the “mortar” holding them together. Any gaps in the bricks cause leakage, meaning, water held within the skin escapes out (known as transepidermal water loss), and pollutants, bacteria and allergens can seep in.

CeraVe doubled down on hero-ing ceramides in 2006, but neither brand could predict what would come in the decade ahead: skincare’s “Decade of Destruction.”

Starting in the mid-2010’s, with the launch of The Ordinary’s single-ingredient, $6 acid serums, we all became amateur chemists, sloughing our faces to no end in the quest for a ‘red carpet’ level of glow. Dermatologist’s in-office peels were now widely available in swipe-on, at-home formulas, like Dr. Dennis Gross’ iconic Alpha Beta pads. We officially went beyond cleansing and moisturizing our skin to sandblast territory.

All of which brought us to a global epidemic of “sensitive skin,” which we eventually realized was actually “sensitized skin”. In other words, we were doing this shit to ourselves.

Gotta give it to Elizabeth Arden for being first in the game to understand ceramides in skincare

See, a damaged skin barrier is a condition, whereas dry skin for example, is a skin type; you were likely born with it because your skin naturally lacks oil. It feels rough or tight, but it drinks up moisturizer happily. A damaged barrier doesn’t just feel tight; it stings, burns, or itches when you apply even the most basic “gentle” lotion. One confusing caveat? Since dry skin lacks plentiful oils, it can be more susceptible to a damaged skin barrier.

But any skin type can suffer from a damaged skin barrier. Skin Fix, who came along in the mid 2010s as the antidote to the peel revolution, taught us that. Today, you can shop for products on their website that address acne, aging, and uneven tone, with each and every formula cradling our fragile skin barriers in lockstep.

Other brands are only now clueing in to the idea that with any form of ‘stripping’ or ‘fighting’, we must protect the skin barrier at all costs. We are seeing this ethos blossom especially in acne care. It makes sense that if barrier “shingles” are all messed up, bacteria (P. acnes) that sits on the surface can more easily slide beneath the surface, too. Which leads to another breakout, and so on, and so on…

My daughter is currently trying Byoma’s lastest Blemish collection, which marries a proprietary, milky-soft ceramide complex with salicylic acid in a 4-step face routine to help diminish acne without disrupting your outermost layer. (Nothing major to report, yet.)

Then there’s Ph-In, out here trying to teach people that acne can be improved without any acids at all (shocking, but the before and afters are fairly impressive.) The brand is a sister company to Indeed Labs, developed with dermatologists, and the 3-piece system focuses on microbiome and pH balancing to keep spots at bay while keeping surface “shingles” tight and right with glycerin and squalane topping the inci lists.

The day my skin barrier died, before I learned not to use vitamin C and then go skiing.

Because the reality is, we now know that acids are not the only enemy. Stress, diet, even tap water can impact our ability to keep our lipid system from performing at its best. And as I sit and write this in the midst of a cold January, I can attest that extreme cold and wind physically "chip away" at the skin barrier whether you’re out skiing or at the dog park.

But as with any beauty awakening, too much of anything is not a good thing. You can read esthetician Sofie Pavitt’s latest post as proof that some of us may be over-doing it with barrier care.

For me (a 50-year old without any hormonal acne), I typically try to avoid tap water and use a no-rinse micellar cleanser instead, like this French pharmacy staple and this one. (Dying to try Sofie Pavitt’s Micellar Cleansing Pads for travel!)

My son came home from school with bright red hands last week, scales literally pointing up, and I immediately handed him Skin Fix’s Pre-Biotic Face + Body Foaming Oil Cleanser to use at the sink and in the shower. Ceramides, sterols and fatty acids are said to mimic skin's barrier to lock in moisture, while finely ground oatmeal helped soothe the sting.

I do use hydrating toners daily. I wrote a whole article about my faves; they are the perfect weightless layer before moisturizing.

Bioderma Sensibio H2O Micellar water to the rescue.

For moisturizers, I love Dieux Skin’s Instant Angel Lipid-Rich Firming Moisturizer, which contains a handful of textbook barrier-supporting ingredients: ceramides, squalane, glycerin, and urea. And I cannot wait to try the Dieux’s new Skin Mercy Intense Recovery Cream, designated as an OTC product by the FDA, meaning that its 1% colloidal oatmeal formulation has passed rigorous clinical testing to help soothe itchy, eczema-prone skin.

I alternate between Instant Angel and if I need a little more richness, the original Embryolisse Lait-Crème Concentré Multifunction Daily Moisturizer, which has more of a primer-like feel. (You can use this fragrance-free version, if you’re sensitive.) Always followed by sunscreen, of course.

For nighttime, I skin cycle between my own Cassatt La Pommade Retinoid Skin Ointment with barrier-supporting ceramide NP, which helps prevent transepidermal water loss with its ointment-like base, and a rich, soothing cream or balm.

All winter I have been loving Skin By Noor Noorishing Face Serum, which my face gobbled up last winter, too. Contrary to its “serum” name, it feels kind of like a thick layer of honey that’s been slightly oxidized in the pantry. The key ingredient is date palm pollen, but I’m quite sure I’ve been enjoying the healing effects of the beeswax and lanolin as well. Whatever it is, it’s the perfect counterpoint to my retinol night the evening before.

The winter is young, and so far, no flare ups! Anyway, all of this to say that skin barrier has become not just a word du jour, but an entire philosophy. Will the term become bastardized and over-marketed? Yessssss. But by framing skin as a ‘barrier,’ it’s easier to remember to care for it that way, so it’s more than a money-making re-brand in my eyes.

What do you think?