Do preteens really need anti-aging creams? How desire to remain forever young takes toll

My definition of “old age” has turned out to be a moving target. In other words, the more years I accumulate, the longer it takes me to accept that I’m … well, that I’ve reached a certain age. Seems like my mind clings to 42, or maybe 52, while my body continues merrily on its downward roll.

I manage to fool myself every once in a while, though. I’m in excellent health! I crow. Physically fit and cognitively thriving! Then, reality slaps me hard. My back mutinies shortly after I take up a rigorous regiment of jumping rope, and my primary doctor suggested I try something more appropriate.

Quite simply, the calendar doesn’t lie. We may lose track of time, but time doesn’t lose track of us. It’s a tough taskmaster, time. Nevertheless, we go above and beyond to keep it at bay.

Which is why I’m so interested in the trend of young girls buying anti-wrinkle products. Some of them aren’t even teenagers, but they’re nevertheless obsessed with serums and potions and creams that promise to delay the inevitable. I can’t figure that out.

At 12 years of age, the thought of aging didn’t cross my mind. In fact, my 21st birthday felt like a lifetime away, and my biggest skin worry was not wrinkles but unsightly pimples. Nary a thought about fine lines and under-eye bags, that’s for sure.

I don’t want, in any way, to romanticize the past. After all, those were the days when we applied baby oil and worshiped the sun for hours. Sunblock, SPF 50, what’s that? Now, some friends are paying the price for that terrible, no-good, unhealthy blunder. At least the tweens of today are forward thinking, focusing on prevention and the future.

But are they, really? Or are they being manipulated by social media and the beauty industry to buy what they don’t need?

In the past few months, two of my granddaughters, newly minted teenagers, have separately requested the same gift for their birthdays: a Sephora or Ulta gift card. For the uninitiated, these are retailers of makeup and beauty products that I, who often go out into the world bare-faced, never knew existed. Visiting one of these stores with my girls is a lesson in all the ways I need to up my nighttime skincare routine.

But I digress.

My first clue about the skincare evolution among the young came last year, during a trip to a Sephora store with my daughter’s daughter. I was overwhelmed by the choices, but impressed by how she knew her way around the shelves.

She explained that she had learned makeup application techniques by watching YouTube videos. She had also discovered products, be they facial serums or illuminating (whatever that is) moisturizers, on the same site.

I was equally surprised by her purchases. The child — and in my eyes, she will remain forever thus — has the enviably unlined skin of the young, but there she was buying some anti-aging cream touted on social media. So, I told her to forget the cream and lectured her on eating right and staying out of the sun. In other words, I delivered unsolicited advice, which means it pretty much fell on deaf ears.

My granddaughter is not an outlier. The news media have reported how skincare experts are warning parents that preteens are buying anti-aging treatments they don’t need and that may actually be harmful. They often blame social media for this disturbing trend. This might be true, but only partially so.

Seems to me we’re pointing a collective finger in the wrong place. Videos of 11-year-olds using under-eye serums go viral for a reason. We’re a society that fears aging in the same way our ancestors feared the plague. We go to great lengths to remain forever young, applying lotions, drinking potions, succumbing to the knife. Maybe our kids have picked up those vibes and they simply have access to what we, in another era, did not.

So, isn’t it time we celebrated the natural progression of a well-lived existence rather than yearning for the unattainable?

Ana Veciana-Suarez writes about family and social issues. Email her at avecianasuarez@gmail.com or visit her website anavecianasuarez.com. Follow @AnaVeciana.