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https://www.themarysue.com/the-magicians-season-4-grief/
**So many spoilers below for The Magicians season four.**
It’s been months since season four of Syfy’s The Magicians ended, and still, when I think about how it resulted in the death of pseudo-protagonist Quentin Coldwater (Jason Ralph), I’m still left with that hollowness I felt when I first saw, in a beautiful display of narrative imagery, our kind-hearted hero burst into millions of blinking lights, just as his own light was forever extinguished. It’s bizarre to feel grief for a fictional character. Or, at least, I thought so at first when it hung over me well past the point any normal human, who isn’t in the depths of YouTube comment section hell, should obsess over anyone who isn’t real.
Through fandom, we’ve come to understand the sense of collective loss that happens when a series kills off a favorite character. If lucky, the character in question will simply be written off the show or, in another twist of the word “death,” will have a complete personality transplant between seasons or—even worse—episodes.
The reason why these shows, movies, or books have such passionate followings isn’t just because of great writing (there are plenty that flirt with the line of mediocrity more often than not), but because there’s a spark about it that we’re drawn to, a welcoming archway to escapism through reality bending and barrel chested heroes (or brunette, gun-toting heroines with lopsided grins). Buried in whatever thematic dressing, there’s someone we relate to—be it wide scale or microscopically, it’s an inch of a trait we see in ourselves that allows the perfect entry point into a world that otherwise felt larger than what we may dare wander into.
There’s always the character death that shocked you the most (noble but hapless Ned or Robb Stark, perhaps) or left you slightly dejected (let me remind you of the devastation that is “Not Penny’s Boat” and apologize in advance for any sniffles in cubicles.) There are deaths that perfectly mark the end of a storyline for a particular character, ones that are so enraging that fans are forced to quit the show, and ones that were the catalyst for one of the greatest episodes of television of this century (even just thinking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s “The Body” makes my heart ache).
But as time passed, that tingling grief began to make more sense in hindsight. I, like plenty of other fans of anything, have a tendency to become hyper fixated, and—considering I’m a generally neurotic individual still riding the murky, nauseating waves of anxiety—I’m hyper fixated on things that make me feel good, that make me leave my own overly analytical thoughts on the backburner. The Magicians managed this, and yes, it was, in part, because it offered me a chance to play make-believe for 40 minutes per episode, but more so than that, as it pressed on through the awkward growing pains of season one, it gave me a character to latch onto.
While I don’t suffer from depression like Quentin does (certainly not to the same extent, at least), there was always something delicately empowering about a character whose greatest strength, in the end, was his decency. He was never the flashiest character in the room, easily dwarfed by the outsized personalities of Eliot or Margo and always out-powered by Julia and Alice.
(image: Eric Milner/SYFY)
His gift was his kindness—not his bookish intellect, but deep empathy. He understood the need to love something and did so with such purity, such eager necessity that it bled into his adult life. He was able to take his internalized pain and configure it into something that wasn’t just an anchoring footnote but a way to relate to others in pain and to see sparks of hope through his belief in the fantastical.
It isn’t a reach to say that plenty of people associate outsized responses to TV moments with fan entitlement and, to be fair, they’re not totally off base. In reactions to Captain Marvel, Game of Thrones, and Star Wars: The Last Jedi, we’ve seen how viewers can twist the source material into something ugly, both believing that they deserved a certain type of story they didn’t get and/or that they could do better than the vision behind the work.
However, that often straight, male indignant fury is quite different from those of us who grieve in the smaller, less abrasive way. Think of the anger of fans when LGBTQ+ characters are needlessly killed off in acts of cheap shock value (an element that certainly doesn’t help The Magicians’ case, as Quentin had seemingly been written as bisexual).
It’s not wrong to feel for the loss of a character or to do so over many months (as I have) because there’s a level of catharsis in knowing that you aren’t alone in this feeling. It’s part of what makes TV (all art, too, but television especially) such an enjoyable communal escape: We aren’t just leaving our self-provided emotions behind us for a while, but we’re also finding like-minded people who can also see themselves in a character like Q, a repairer of small objects.
Quentin’s loss hurt for a number of reasons. For one thing, his story wasn’t finished, and after a season or two of teasing an Eliot and Quentin reunion, the lack of closure makes what came before ring hollow, if still beautiful in individual moments. For another, it presents itself as daring for killing off the imagined lead character, but with the LGBTQ characterization, that death isn’t just shocking, but another sad tally in an ever-growing statistic.
Jason Ralph reportedly asked to leave, though, and while there’s respect for him as an actor in making that creative decision, he did some of his finest work in season four, imbuing Q with an apathy that manifested in his physicality, in a persistent hunch of his shoulders and world-weariness that had him further burrowing into himself. His depression, which had largely been spoken of in the past tense, was fully on display in his disinterest and his waning knack for self-preservation.
It was a note that made his death—and his worry, afterward, that maybe it hadn’t been so accidental—all the more devastating. We get the feeling that, had he made it through to the ending moments, he too would be sitting around the campfire with all of his friends and loved ones, that maybe that icy façade he’d built throughout the season would’ve thawed again.
(image: Syfy)
Beyond all of the possibilities that were missed—storylines lost and relationships unfulfilled—there was a deeper sadness in losing a character who, in my own way, represented attributes I wished to see onscreen more. From his unlikely acts of heroism to seeing the strength in those around him and a desire and will to do good by those he loved, Quentin was the opposite to so many antiheroes, or rough-around-the-edges/heart-of-gold types.
He wore his heart on his sleeve, and it was almost always messy. He was sad and neurotic, passionate and obsessive, and he found fantastical worlds as a means to cope with a self-destructive, emotionally volatile mind. Sometimes we need those stories to help us see beyond our present, to give us light and offer a reprieve from anxiety.
He wasn’t so much an audience insert as someone who took on the baggage of the viewers to allow us assertive affirmation that our fervor for these transportive tales is worthwhile. In learning to deal with the death of a character I loved, it’s been easier to realize that, so often, the reason we mourn fictionalized people in highly fictionalized worlds isn’t so much because we’ll miss them (though I will), but because we’ll miss that outlet—that mirror—that granted us an array of exuberant escape.
Be it through fleeting glances or stolen kisses, through sing-a-longs or mystifying subtleties of dynamics, or dragons, sentient ships, and fabulous gowns made for a Queen (or King), The Magicians was a perfectly packaged means of profound reality pauses. With the loss of Quentin, it loses its heart. Still, with the journeys we went on with him, it’s bittersweet and all the more poignant in the end.
(featured image: Syfy)
Allyson Johnson is a twentysomething writer and a lover of film and all things pop culture. She’s a film and television enthusiast and critic over at TheYoungFolks.com who spends too much of her free time on Netflix. Her idols are Jo March, Illana Glazer, and Amy Poehler. Check her out at her twitter @AllysonAJ or at The Young Folks.
Want more stories like this? Become a subscriber and support the site!
—The Mary Sue has a strict comment policy that forbids, but is not limited to, personal insults toward anyone, hate speech, and trolling.—
**So many spoilers below for The Magicians season four.**
It’s been months since season four of Syfy’s The Magicians ended, and still, when I think about how it resulted in the death of pseudo-protagonist Quentin Coldwater (Jason Ralph), I’m still left with that hollowness I felt when I first saw, in a beautiful display of narrative imagery, our kind-hearted hero burst into millions of blinking lights, just as his own light was forever extinguished. It’s bizarre to feel grief for a fictional character. Or, at least, I thought so at first when it hung over me well past the point any normal human, who isn’t in the depths of YouTube comment section hell, should obsess over anyone who isn’t real.
Through fandom, we’ve come to understand the sense of collective loss that happens when a series kills off a favorite character. If lucky, the character in question will simply be written off the show or, in another twist of the word “death,” will have a complete personality transplant between seasons or—even worse—episodes.
The reason why these shows, movies, or books have such passionate followings isn’t just because of great writing (there are plenty that flirt with the line of mediocrity more often than not), but because there’s a spark about it that we’re drawn to, a welcoming archway to escapism through reality bending and barrel chested heroes (or brunette, gun-toting heroines with lopsided grins). Buried in whatever thematic dressing, there’s someone we relate to—be it wide scale or microscopically, it’s an inch of a trait we see in ourselves that allows the perfect entry point into a world that otherwise felt larger than what we may dare wander into.
There’s always the character death that shocked you the most (noble but hapless Ned or Robb Stark, perhaps) or left you slightly dejected (let me remind you of the devastation that is “Not Penny’s Boat” and apologize in advance for any sniffles in cubicles.) There are deaths that perfectly mark the end of a storyline for a particular character, ones that are so enraging that fans are forced to quit the show, and ones that were the catalyst for one of the greatest episodes of television of this century (even just thinking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s “The Body” makes my heart ache).
But as time passed, that tingling grief began to make more sense in hindsight. I, like plenty of other fans of anything, have a tendency to become hyper fixated, and—considering I’m a generally neurotic individual still riding the murky, nauseating waves of anxiety—I’m hyper fixated on things that make me feel good, that make me leave my own overly analytical thoughts on the backburner. The Magicians managed this, and yes, it was, in part, because it offered me a chance to play make-believe for 40 minutes per episode, but more so than that, as it pressed on through the awkward growing pains of season one, it gave me a character to latch onto.
While I don’t suffer from depression like Quentin does (certainly not to the same extent, at least), there was always something delicately empowering about a character whose greatest strength, in the end, was his decency. He was never the flashiest character in the room, easily dwarfed by the outsized personalities of Eliot or Margo and always out-powered by Julia and Alice.
(image: Eric Milner/SYFY)
His gift was his kindness—not his bookish intellect, but deep empathy. He understood the need to love something and did so with such purity, such eager necessity that it bled into his adult life. He was able to take his internalized pain and configure it into something that wasn’t just an anchoring footnote but a way to relate to others in pain and to see sparks of hope through his belief in the fantastical.
It isn’t a reach to say that plenty of people associate outsized responses to TV moments with fan entitlement and, to be fair, they’re not totally off base. In reactions to Captain Marvel, Game of Thrones, and Star Wars: The Last Jedi, we’ve seen how viewers can twist the source material into something ugly, both believing that they deserved a certain type of story they didn’t get and/or that they could do better than the vision behind the work.
However, that often straight, male indignant fury is quite different from those of us who grieve in the smaller, less abrasive way. Think of the anger of fans when LGBTQ+ characters are needlessly killed off in acts of cheap shock value (an element that certainly doesn’t help The Magicians’ case, as Quentin had seemingly been written as bisexual).
It’s not wrong to feel for the loss of a character or to do so over many months (as I have) because there’s a level of catharsis in knowing that you aren’t alone in this feeling. It’s part of what makes TV (all art, too, but television especially) such an enjoyable communal escape: We aren’t just leaving our self-provided emotions behind us for a while, but we’re also finding like-minded people who can also see themselves in a character like Q, a repairer of small objects.
Quentin’s loss hurt for a number of reasons. For one thing, his story wasn’t finished, and after a season or two of teasing an Eliot and Quentin reunion, the lack of closure makes what came before ring hollow, if still beautiful in individual moments. For another, it presents itself as daring for killing off the imagined lead character, but with the LGBTQ characterization, that death isn’t just shocking, but another sad tally in an ever-growing statistic.
Jason Ralph reportedly asked to leave, though, and while there’s respect for him as an actor in making that creative decision, he did some of his finest work in season four, imbuing Q with an apathy that manifested in his physicality, in a persistent hunch of his shoulders and world-weariness that had him further burrowing into himself. His depression, which had largely been spoken of in the past tense, was fully on display in his disinterest and his waning knack for self-preservation.
It was a note that made his death—and his worry, afterward, that maybe it hadn’t been so accidental—all the more devastating. We get the feeling that, had he made it through to the ending moments, he too would be sitting around the campfire with all of his friends and loved ones, that maybe that icy façade he’d built throughout the season would’ve thawed again.
(image: Syfy)
Beyond all of the possibilities that were missed—storylines lost and relationships unfulfilled—there was a deeper sadness in losing a character who, in my own way, represented attributes I wished to see onscreen more. From his unlikely acts of heroism to seeing the strength in those around him and a desire and will to do good by those he loved, Quentin was the opposite to so many antiheroes, or rough-around-the-edges/heart-of-gold types.
He wore his heart on his sleeve, and it was almost always messy. He was sad and neurotic, passionate and obsessive, and he found fantastical worlds as a means to cope with a self-destructive, emotionally volatile mind. Sometimes we need those stories to help us see beyond our present, to give us light and offer a reprieve from anxiety.
He wasn’t so much an audience insert as someone who took on the baggage of the viewers to allow us assertive affirmation that our fervor for these transportive tales is worthwhile. In learning to deal with the death of a character I loved, it’s been easier to realize that, so often, the reason we mourn fictionalized people in highly fictionalized worlds isn’t so much because we’ll miss them (though I will), but because we’ll miss that outlet—that mirror—that granted us an array of exuberant escape.
Be it through fleeting glances or stolen kisses, through sing-a-longs or mystifying subtleties of dynamics, or dragons, sentient ships, and fabulous gowns made for a Queen (or King), The Magicians was a perfectly packaged means of profound reality pauses. With the loss of Quentin, it loses its heart. Still, with the journeys we went on with him, it’s bittersweet and all the more poignant in the end.
(featured image: Syfy)
Allyson Johnson is a twentysomething writer and a lover of film and all things pop culture. She’s a film and television enthusiast and critic over at TheYoungFolks.com who spends too much of her free time on Netflix. Her idols are Jo March, Illana Glazer, and Amy Poehler. Check her out at her twitter @AllysonAJ or at The Young Folks.
Want more stories like this? Become a subscriber and support the site!
—The Mary Sue has a strict comment policy that forbids, but is not limited to, personal insults toward anyone, hate speech, and trolling.—
Jackie Aina may be better known as a champion of diversity and inclusivity in the beauty industry, but she’s also an advocate for Black love. Not only does the beauty influencer use YouTube to coach women through applying their makeup, but she also uses the platform to show Black girls, and specifically those with deeper complexions, what a healthy romantic relationship looks like.
On the Beauty Carnival stage at the 25th Anniversary of Essence Festival, the content creator opened up about her conscious decision to share her relationship with her significant other, with her three million YouTube Subscribers.
While most public figures keep details about their relationships private, the 31-year-old says she wants young Black dark skinned women to see an example of a positive relationship amongst two Black people.
“I’m really big on representation and visibility, and we’re here at Essence Fest so we’ll just be extremely honest—everything’s got to be Black,” said Aina. “Ultimately, I actually decided to start the [couples] channel, because lets just be honest, sometimes the men in our community are not always as welcoming of a particular type of woman amongst the Black community.”
Hinting at colorism, which is a prevalent issue that still negatively impacts women of color, she opened up to the audience.
“When we started to become more public with our relationship, in my head I thought to imagine how encouraging that might be for someone who looks like me to see she has a man who loves her, that’s also Black, that’s not degrading her, humiliating her, talking about light-skin this and light-skin that. That could be the little bit of encouragement someone may need. It might be inspiring for them. A lot of people don’t have a lot of positive examples of that.”
Aina isn’t shy about drawing visibility to the issues that affect young Black women, including sensitive subjects such as skin color. Not only does she draw awareness to shadeism at the beauty counter, but she also underscores its impact on romantic relationships and self-confidence. In a climate where touchy subjects are brushed under the rug, we’re happy to see that she’s pulling out the carpet and bringing these important topics to the forefront.
“I want young Black women and young Black dark-skinned women at that, to see another example of a positive healthy relationship among two Black people,” Aina said in closing.
To see #blacklove personified, check out these touching images of Jackie and her bae.
143 my darling, happy anniversary 
happy birthday to my favorite Pisces in the entire world 
@mrworksmarter love you sugar bearThe post Jackie Aina Wants To Teach Young Black Women About Healthy Relationships appeared first on Essence.
Though Essence Festival is an event that allows you to interact with celebrities, brands, influencers, and tastemakers, the Black women that we serve are really at the core of the festival. Black beauty is celebrated on all fronts, from the bounce of our coils, to the curl of our lips, to the gaps in our teeth.
We found so many dynamic ladies with noteworthy hair and makeup at Beauty Carnival, we couldn’t resist catching up with a few of them about the beauty looks they were serving.
Danielle Mayfield, DC, 34, Makeup Artist/Hairstylist
Tell me about these lashes and this flawless application?
I bought the lashes from a vendor here at Essence Festival. I have on Black Opal foundation. I use Crayon Case for my contour, I use their crayon palette, and I have Presidential from the same brand on my lips.
Any reason why you wore blue lips today?
I just wanted to do something different and a little out of the box. I kept everything else so simple so I figured let me put a pop of color on my lips.
What beauty trends do you like to incorporate into your look?
My every day look is pretty much natural but when I go out I try to accentuate my eyes or do up my lips.
How many times have you been to Essence Festival?
This is my first time and I love it. There are so many things to do for Black people. It’s cool to bring my sister with me who’s learning a lot. She’s being enlightened and seeing so many things. I surprised her with tickets so she could see Supa Cent.
Isis Johnson, New Orleans, 25, Retail Worker
Give me the scoop on this wonderful hair!
I did my own color. I actually bleached it and it came out this two-tone shade. I was going to dye it red but this is way too cool for me to put a dye on top.
Did you pull this off for Essence Festival or is this you every day?
I just had a baby girl, and everyone said I couldn’t dye my hair while I was pregnant. It was black and driving me crazy because red is my signature color. As soon as I could, I tried to dye it back red.
What message would you want to pass on to your daughter about what it means to be a beautiful Black woman in this world?
Accept yourself. My hair’s always been natural but when I was growing up it wasn’t as accepted as it is now. So don’t let anybody tell you how you’re supposed to look, just love you. You’re going to be a baddie just like your mom and your grandma!
Since you’re from here, what tip would you give a first time attendee about keeping their makeup intact in this heat?
If you want to do liquid makeup stick to the bare minimum. Do just foundation, don’t do a concealer, keep it really light and really fresh because this humidity will take it all off. You don’t want to look like chocolate milk.
Bronwin Taylor, 39, New York, Freelance Artist
Is this special Festival hair?
No this is one of my every day looks.
How much time does it take to do this daily?
Not long. I don’t flatiron my hair every day because that’s not healthy. So I might do it twice a week and don’t use a lot of products, maybe some coconut oil. Then I pin curl it at night and I can sleep however I want. My hair cut takes like an hour in the barber’s chair.
This is really edgy and funky.
I really love mohawks especially because it comes from African culture. And then I was getting tired of cornrowing my sides and I wanted something really bold and artistic like myself so I just shaved the side and I put designs in it every chance I get.
Then you topped off the purple hair with purple lipstick?
It’s my favorite color!
Sylvia McFadden, 44, South Carolina, Shipping and Receiving Professional
Did you get this lovely hairdo specifically for Festival?
Every year I come to Festival and I get my hair in a wild style. Every year I try to do something different.
How many Essence Festivals have you done so far?
This is my third consecutive year coming to Essence Festival. I always look forward to it. I know we do a lot of hair and beauty stuff.
What’s your favorite part?
Definitely Beauty Carnival. I like to get new beauty products, new hair products, and I like to see the different demonstrations.
How long did your hairstyle take?
It took about three hours. My beautician Latrice West is pretty fast. I’ve been going to her for 13 years, since back when I lived in Atlanta. I’ve already posted pictures on Facebook. Everyone’s always amazed like ‘what’ll she come up with next?’
Karisha Loiseau, 34, New Orleans by way of Chicago, Corporate Sales Manager
Is this gorgeous hair just for Festival or is this an every day look for you?
It’s not an every day thing, but not just for ESSENCE either. It just depends on what mood I’m in. It took a lot of bobby pins and prayer!
What inspires you when you’re styling your hair?
I don’t know. I’m always an out of the box person. I recently had big hair too and then just shaved it all off. I go with the flow and when the mood hits I press play.
What’s this blue lip all about?
It’s two Kat Von D. lipsticks layered actually. I have one shade all over and then another just in the middle. My family always makes fun of me because my lipstick is completely different. I wear green, I wear blue.
What’s one thing you would tell ladies about having fun with their hair?
If you’re comfortable with yourself who cares what anybody else says? As long as you can look in the mirror and can say ‘I look good,’ do you and embrace it.
The post Essence Festival Attendees Gave The Scoop On Their Beauty Looks appeared first on Essence.
Melanin is a beautiful gift from God that gives people of color added protection from UV rays, skin cancer, and signs of aging. Not to mention, it also glistens in the sun with a magical glow. However, on the flip side, those with pigmented skin are prone to hyperpigmentation — a skin condition that causes dark marks and acne scars when excessive melanin is produced. It can be triggered by anything from a rash, scratch, pimple, or inflammation. To make matters worse, this unsightly ailment can take anywhere from three months to two years to get rid of.
African Americans are most susceptible to hyperpigmentation because their melanin-rich skin tends to be more reactive than other people of color. Fortunately, there’s a treatment that can reduce the appearance of dark spots called dermalinfusion. According to Cheryl M. Medina, a physician assistant specializing in aesthetics, this treatment works wonders for those with brown skin. The New York-born Filipina has been working in skin care and practicing dermatology for seven years at Skin Deep Clinics, where she specializes in treating darker skin tones with a focus on acne, acne scarring, hyperpigmentation, and anti-aging. She also serves a range of influencers and rising stars, like fashion designer LaQuan Smith and DJ Natasha Diggs, at the Queens-based clinic.
In an interview with BLACK ENTERPRISE, Medina breaks down a popular dermalinfusion treatment as well as common myths about skincare.
Cheryl M. Medina, PA-C
BE: How does the Dermalinfusion treatment work?
One of the most popular and effective dermalinfusion treatments is called “The Silk Peel.” It’s a wonderful treatment that gets great results in treating acne, dark spots, acne scarring, and anti-aging. Similar to a microdermabrasion treatment, it breaks down the top layer of dead skin revealing newer skin and encouraging new skin cells to the surface, which gives you a nice glow and even skin texture.
As it is abrading your top layer, it forms a hyperbaric chamber with the skin allowing it to suction whatever can be manipulated out of your pore. So all the bacteria that is trapped in your skin gets eliminated and collected in a collection jar. After the treatment, you get to see all the wonderful things that was pulled out of your face.
Not only does it exfoliate and cleanse the skin, it also nourishes the skin. It is a wet microdermabrasion meaning, it delivers a solution back into the skin through the pores whilst they are engaged. Depending on what your skin is presenting, we are able to deliver back into the dermis nourishment and treatment in the form of hyaluronic acid, vitamin C, a brightening solution, as well as salicylic acid that helps prevent acne.
Common Skincare Myths
BE: Can you debunk a few skincare myths that you’ve heard?
MYTH: Greasy foods make me break out.
FACT: Sebaceous glands produce sebum or oil to coat our skin for protection and pH optimization. Greasy foods do not trigger these glands to produce more oil. In fact, it is the behavior whilst eating greasy foods that can add oil to the skin. For example, touching your face with greasy hands after eating greasy foods adds oil to the face and can lead to a breakout by clogging your pores. Be mindful of touching your face whilst eating and of the grease dribble on your chin when you take a bite! Sugar actually does ignite those sebaceous glands to produce more oil. So, what you should be mindful of is your sugar intake.
MYTH: I can use my body soap to wash my face in the shower. It cleanses all the same.
FACT: Soaps that foam have a foaming agent called a detergent. That’s right. The same agent you use to wash your clothes with. Detergents are drying agents so using foamy soaps will dry out your skin! That’s why after you wash your face it feels tight and super dry or “clean.” In doing so, you have stripped what’s called the natural acid mantle barrier, a light layer of oil meant to keep your skin at its proper pH level in order for it to function optimally, and throughout the day, you will notice that your skin will produce a lot more oil. It does so in order to compensate for the loss of oil that you stripped away with the foamy wash. Milky cream wash or gel wash is best!
MYTH: Black don’t crack. I don’t need sunscreen!
FACT: Although it is true, darker skin tones do age better; it is due to the oil that we produce that keeps our skin moist and supple so that our skin does not degrade as quickly. But sunscreen is used primarily to avoid skin cancer as well as aging. Darker skin tones are not invincible to skin cancer. It is imperative that you protect your skin from the UVA and UVB rays especially these days with our ozone layer depleting.
As far as aging, darker skin tones are susceptible to hyperpigmentation, dark spots, or age spots. Using an SPF 30-55 daily will prevent these spots from appearing or getting darker. Also, try putting sunscreen on the back of your hands daily as well. Your hands show age quickly due to its overexposure to the UV light.
Treat Your Skin Right
BE: What should people of color do on a daily basis to maintain healthy, clear skin?
It is important to have a proper skincare regimen, starting with a milky or gel-non foaming facial cleanser. You should cleanse your face daily and add a light moisturizer with a broad spectrum (that protects against UVA and UVB rays) SPF between 30-55 that contain antioxidants to nourish the skin.
The most important part of a skincare routine is being a member of exfoliation nation! You must exfoliate regularly. I tell patients, in the beginning, to start natural with a simple sugar and honey scrub that they can make at home with 1/4 cup sugar + 1-2 tbspns of honey. Mix into a puddy and scrub your face for 60sec. Wash off and apply nourishment to this skin in the form of a moisturizer with antioxidants. This should be done at night, three times per week. Then later to challenge the skin, you can start using chemicals like glycolic acid or retinol to exfoliate the skin.
Exfoliating allows your pores to breath, encourages new skin growth, gives your skin a healthy glow, and also prevents bacteria or acne to grow. Diet also plays a major role in skin health! You should eat foods that are high in antioxidants like deep greens, acai berries, pomegranate, etc. However, the most important part of your diet is drinking tons of water. Water helps your skin and body rids itself of toxins! Three water bottles a day should be your daily goal at the very least.
BE: What type of products do you recommend for people who suffer from hyper-pigmentation?
When dealing with hyperpigmentation, the process is twofold:
First, you must work out the skin. Meaning, you have to exfoliate regularly. Dark spots are a form of scar tissue. You can lighten it by exfoliating the dead skin off and encouraging new skin to come to the surface. Remember after you exfoliate you must, must, must wear sunscreen to protect the new skin from the sun’s damage. Otherwise, the dark spot will only get darker!
The second part is actually treating the hyperpigmentation with a topical. Products that contain hydroquinone 4%, bearberry, licorice, citric acid and kojic acid help to brighten or lighten the skin. At Skin Deep Clinics, we offer Skin Tone Pads that contain kojic acid, bearberry and hydroquinone to brighten the skin. They are easy to use and breed wonderful, safe results.