The United States Needs to Up their Skin Care Game

By: Dakota D. Duran

When it hits the ripe hour of 8:30 p.m., I am ready for what I call “skin care time.” “Skin care time” is the 30 minutes of my day where I turn on my “cinnamon roll music playlist” (a playlist full of Clairo, Leon Bridges, and Faye Webster), put the fluffy Hello Kitty headband on, and open my cabinet full of skin care products. While I feel that I have finally reached my goal of clear skin, it is all because of the skin care routine I have precisely curated over the past year; one full of Korean, Japanese, and French products–not American ones. 

Beauty has always been prevalent in the U.S., allowing American skin care to evolve. Our essential products, such as Vaseline, baby powder, and Chapstick were invented in the 1800s, but it wasn’t until the 1900s, following the industrial revolution, when skin care took a turn. There were new developments of sunscreen, botox, and cosmetics, allowing individuals to follow the “Keep it Clean” movement that took over the 1950s. While these products were helpful and helped create a foundation for the skin care America holds now, it doesn’t mean they were good, and they still aren’t now.  

Sure, the U.S. has its staples—Neutrogena cleansers, Cetaphil moisturizers, and even buzzy brands like Drunk Elephant. But as I scroll through Instagram or stroll the aisles of beauty stores, I often find myself let down by what American brands prioritize: flashy marketing, influencer campaigns, and endless product launches that overpromise and underdeliver. Take, for instance, Neutrogena’s Oil-Free Acne Wash, which is an acne-fighting classic but can often leave your skin feeling tight and stripped due to its high alcohol content. Another example is Drunk Elephant’s cult-favorite T.L.C. Sukari Babyfacial: while powerful, it’s so potent that it can easily irritate sensitive skin if not used sparingly.

Even when American products hit the mark, they often lack the elegance and efficiency that their international counterparts deliver. Cetaphil Gentle Skin Cleanser is a staple for many with sensitive skin, but let’s be honest—it’s about as exciting as washing your face with a watered-down lotion. It works, but it doesn’t “wow” you. And that’s the key difference: Japanese, Korean, and French products aren’t just functional; they’re transformational. 

Take Japanese skin care, for instance. It's no surprise that J-beauty brands like Hada Labo or SK-II emphasize simplicity and hydration. Their products are often powered by scientifically revered ingredients like hyaluronic acid and fermented rice water. Hada Labo’s Gokujyun Lotion feels like a drink of water for my skin, effortlessly plumping it without the sticky residue. Compare that to the overly complicated, fragrance-filled concoctions in so many American products, and the choice is obvious.

Then there's Korean skin care, a global phenomenon for good reason. K-beauty brands such as COSRX and Laneige excel because of their cutting-edge innovation and meticulous focus on gentle, effective formulas. My personal favorite, the COSRX Snail Mucin Power Essence, is a triumph of science meeting nature. The snail secretion filtrate sounds unconventional, sure, but it works wonders for repairing damaged skin and evening out texture. Try finding a similar level of creativity and efficacy in an American brand—it’s a rare sight.

French skin care, on the other hand, exudes luxury and minimalism. Brands like La Roche-Posay and Avène focus on thermal spring water and other soothing, dermatologically tested ingredients. Their formulations prioritize healing and maintenance over marketing gimmicks. La Roche-Posay’s Cicaplast Baume B5, for example, has become a staple in my routine for calming redness and restoring moisture without overwhelming my skin. I use it every other night as a night mask, and I wake up every morning with baby soft skin. American products could never. 

The glaring difference lies in the philosophy. Japanese, Korean, and French skin care brands prioritize skin health. They rely on centuries-old traditions and cutting-edge research to craft products that treat your skin like a living organ, not just a canvas for makeup. Meanwhile, many American brands focus on trends, aggressive exfoliation, or quick fixes that often lead to irritation. It’s the difference between nourishing your skin and punishing it.

If American brands want to catch up, they need to shift focus in two major areas: ingredient quality and formulation philosophy. For one, cutting out harsh ingredients like sulfates, drying alcohols, and artificial fragrances would be a good start. Brands like Paula’s Choice, which emphasizes effective active ingredients in well-researched concentrations, are proof that this is possible. But these brands are still the exception, not the rule. American skin care also tends to focus on quick results (think harsh scrubs, peel pads, or intense retinoids), while global counterparts prioritize long-term skin health with soothing, hydrating ingredients.

Another lesson? Simplify. Instead of releasing 10 new product lines each year, American brands should refine their offerings, focusing on a few excellent, multifunctional products. Look at Laneige’s Lip Sleeping Mask: a single, iconic product that hydrates and repairs lips overnight. It’s the definition of less is more, and it’s why people around the world swear by it (including me, specifically in the berry flavor). 

The U.S. could also take a page from France when it comes to embracing dermocosmetics. French pharmacy staples like Avène and Bioderma bridge the gap between beauty and health, offering products that are backed by science but don’t require a prescription. Imagine if more American brands focused on this sweet spot instead of chasing TikTok trends.

So when it’s 8:30 p.m., and I’m reaching for my Holy Grail products, I don’t think twice about bypassing the flashy American options. I choose Hada Labo for hydration, COSRX for innovation, and La Roche-Posay for calming care. When it comes to skin care, I don’t just want what’s popular—I want what works. And what works, without question, comes from the shelves stocked with Japanese, Korean, and French labels.