
In 2024, much of the year’s most popular art dabbled in the conflict of aging.
Famous musicians like Charli XCX and Tyler, the Creator released their most recent albums, each flirting with the world-ending anxiety of having to embrace adulthood. Actress Demi Moore starred in the body horror film “The Substance,” which is very upfront with its commentary on the unreachable standards for the mature female body.
Albums like “BRAT” and “Chromakopia” teach their audiences the same thing. They preach that growing older comes with unique challenges, but it’s more bearable to dance through the pain than to ignore it. “The Substance” advocates for something similar — to finally end the cultural war on the aging body.
As my peers and I get older, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the ticking clock behind our backs. We’re faced with the true beginnings of adulthood as we encroach on the end of our college careers. The inevitable disaster of the late 20s, to the mid-life crisis in our 30s, all begins to creep up too soon.
As the time grows closer for everyone to enter this tumultuous stage, there comes an inescapable desire to hold onto youthfulness. People start seeking products to minimize wrinkles, or supplements to thwart the effects of dwindling collagen. But aging is a natural process that catches up with everyone eventually, and it’s pointless to try and stop it. Aging is something we should embrace warmly, as it leaves us with the markers of a life well-lived.
In modern culture, the idea of thwarting the physical manifestation of age is not a new phenomenon. The FDA approved Botox to improve the appearance of wrinkles in 2002 and it has been the cultural standard for celebrities and women everywhere ever since.
Nearly two decades later, the culture has stubbornly remained in the same place. But in the age of social media and the suffocating attention economy, anti-aging is more accessible than ever.
The accessibility of age prevention makes our fascination with it feel far more sinister. We’re constantly served with the continuous reminder that we may not be loved in our natural form in a few years if we stand by and do nothing to prevent the signs of age.
Each day I scroll on TikTok, I’m plagued by videos with obnoxious TikTok shop advertisements. I’ve seen it all, from awkwardly staged skits to promote a pair of sweatpants to Jeffree Star desperately trying to sell single eyeshadows.
Recently, I’ve been served ads at an alarming rate for products like wrinkle-free straws. The straws are close to a candy cane shape with an opening at the top so sipping from it will not result in smoker lines around the mouth.
I’ve also seen several advocates of anti-aging pillows, which are shaped to minimize skin friction to avoid the gradual formation of fine lines. From sleeping to sipping, there’s a never-ending manhunt to identify and eradicate the normal, everyday things that contribute to the aging process.
As much as seeking new gadgets may help slow maturation, the main cause of wrinkles is the gradual loss of collagen, which makes up approximately 70% of the skin’s structure, according to UCLA Health. Collagen production decreases by a small amount every year during adult life, leading to wrinkles, fine lines and a loss of skin elasticity.
Trends like collagen banking have started to make their rounds on the internet in attempts to avoid this. It involves collagen supplements and collagen-infused skincare to try and avoid the protein’s gradual depletion before it starts, usually between the ages of 25 and 30.
Although it would be easy to snag these products and try to avoid the inevitable crevices on our skin, it’s simply not worth it. These new inventions are just ploys to prey on preexisting insecurities.
The beauty industry had a revenue of $570 billion in 2023 and it’s projected to keep growing, Forbes reported.
As I begin my 20s, I constantly think I have to get the ball rolling on making my skin more firm, or slathering on eye creams to halt the development of fine lines. But as I dwell on it, I realize that the labor of committing to a lifelong aesthetic is not valuable, in any sense. The signs of aging are symbols of a fulfilling life lived.
The crevices that form on your smile lines are reminders of laughter and the moments of love that make us who we are. Maturing and aging are nothing without the smiles, frowns and anger that occur concomitantly with life. Being able to look in the mirror and see the physical reminders of these moments should be a treasure: the ultimate reward.
The smoker lines that people avoid are tattooed memories of sharing cigarettes with friends while dancing down a city street. They’re the imprint of sharing a soda with someone you love at a diner.
Forehead lines form from facial expressions, both positive and negative. They come from smiles and frowns: the embodiment of the laughter and tragedies that got us to where we are.
But we’re stuck in the constant fear of judgment that these traits feel like a punishment for inaction rather than a gift. I hope we start to embrace this power and see the beauty of age for what it truly is – a badge of experience and endearment.
Be the first to comment