I used to deeply resent the phrase “do as I say, not as I do.” It’s usually said by someone with a bit more authority than the listener, and, if you asked me, with a hell of a lot of audacity. If hypocrisy and condescension had an official slogan, that would be it. And why should I take advice that’s apparently not good enough for the advisor?
Then I became a beauty editor. And stayed one. For nearly two decades now.
A not-insignificant portion of my job is disseminating skin-care and hair-care advice by means of what I hope are coherent and captivating sentences. (How’m I doin’?) And while my years in the industry have prompted some to call me a beauty expert, I always defer to the actual experts in the areas I’m writing about, like hairstylists and dermatologists, because it’s both my and this publication’s policy to not feed you bullshit.
And yet! Even I have utterly failed to follow some of the most common-sense expert advice that I’ve reported — a mind-boggling case of “do as I say they say, not as I do.” Sure, I do some of the things my articles advise, like wear sunscreen daily — even indoors — but I am painfully lazy about some things (lookin’ at you, body lotion) and inexplicably defiant about others.
Remember when I said I’ve been a beauty editor for two decades? A spring chicken I am not. At 44, some things about my skin are much different than when I got into the industry in my mid-twenties. My forehead lines are somewhat noticeable between Botox sessions, my skin tone is the most uneven it’s ever been, and a loss of firmness is apparent to me in the subtle yet very real droopage that has begun. That said, some things never change: I still get zits every now and then. And with those zits, I have the same temptation to do (and lack the same willpower to not do) the one thing that everyone, beauty expert or not, knows not to do: pop them.
But in the last couple of years, something has changed when I go to squeeze both blackheads and whiteheads: My skin seems to rebel. It has become significantly more difficult to successfully pop a zit. And I don’t mean the resistance we’ve all experienced when a pimple just simply isn’t ready to go.
There’s something about the actual state of my skin these days that makes it harder to get that taut grip that creates the ideal tension for pushing out the ick. I can’t achieve the satisfaction of confronting an unwanted visitor and watching its glutinous contents get evicted. I’ll try different angles, get closer to the mirror, even switch “tools” (fingertips, knuckles, cotton swabs — I’ve tried everything) only to find that a clearly ready-to-pop zit won’t budge. It’s ridiculously frustrating that, after nearly a lifetime of easily popping zits whenever I damn well pleased, I simply cannot now. Did my skin install some kind of anti-pop device without my knowing it?
According to Divya Shokeen, MD — a Los Angeles-based board-certified dermatologist and an actual expert — I’m not imagining things. The skin changes that come with getting older are absolutely contributing to this newfound unpoppability. “Factors related to skin aging do make it more challenging to pop zits,” Dr. Shokeen told me, confirming that the thinning and loss of elasticity skin experiences as it matures are going to make my bad habit harder to practice.
I asked NYC-based board-certified dermatologist Marisa Garshick, too, and she told me that “as we age, breakouts may be deeper,” which makes them harder to pop or squeeze.
Although neither doctor yelled at me for trying to pop my zits like I was afraid they were going to, they also made it clear that mature skin’s stubbornness is not an invitation to try harder to squeeze out the gunk. In fact, it should dissuade me from popping even more because the consequences we’ve all heard about — inflammation, bacteria being pushed further into the skin, scarring, secondary infections, post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation, etc. — can be even more pronounced in not-so-young skin.
“[Mature skin] might be less resilient and more susceptible to the damage caused by manually trying to pop a zit compared to younger, more elastic and more collagen enhanced skin,” Dr. Shokeen says, explaining that the aforementioned decreased elasticity and thickness can lead to a higher risk of tearing and scarring. “Additionally, the slower healing process in mature skin could potentially lead to prolonged redness or even increased risk of infection.”
And get this: As we continue to age, the breakouts themselves are more likely to be cystic in nature. “Oil production decreases with age so may be less likely to experience whiteheads, blackheads, and pustules,” Dr. Garshick says. In other words: “The breakouts often don’t have pus in them, so squeezing just creates more inflammation.”
With that, I might have finally heard what I need to hear to actually stop trying to pop my zits. I mean, sure, I don’t want inflammation and scarring and discoloration, and avoiding that should be — and always should have been — enough to slap my own hands away as they mindlessly saunter toward the blemish du jour. But to know there may not even be anything in there, no football team eager to tear through the giant paper homecoming banner that is my skin, subtracts the instant gratification factor that has likely kept me ignoring my own guidance for so long.
Old habits may die hard, but not quite as hard, I now know, as it is and will increasingly be to pop a zit on aging skin.
More on skin care:
- This Youth to the People Moisturizer Cured My Fear of Rich Creams
- The 22 Best Face Serums for Every Skin Type
- 17 Brilliant Skin-Care Sets to Gift This Holiday Season
Now watch Madelyn Cline's gorgeous, glowy 10-Minute Beauty Routine:
Don't forget to follow Allure on Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok, or subscribe to our newsletter to stay up to date on all things beauty.
