Rising up as a Black man, magnificence wasn’t nearly presentation—it was id, heritage and therapeutic. My earliest understanding of skincare, self-love and softness got here not from magazines or social media, however from the ladies in my life who handled magnificence like a sacred ritual. From cocoa butter to daring lipstick, their routines weren’t about maintaining with tendencies. They have been about defending the pores and skin they have been in and passing down satisfaction via observe.
A few of my finest magnificence recollections come from tales, like those my mom instructed me about her mom, Grandma Barbara, and her grandmother, Genevieve. I don’t bear in mind them personally, however their presence lived within the rituals they left behind. I do have transient recollections of Grandma Betty, who stayed with us a number of instances. She had a quiet power and a daring sense of favor that is still with me right this moment. Every of those girls taught me one thing highly effective: Magnificence is about figuring out who you might be and caring for that particular person with intention.
Grandma Barbara was minimal, however meticulous. Her routine was easy: Cuticura Cleaning soap, a traditional antiseptic cleanser, adopted by her beloved Pond’s moisturizer. She didn’t fuss with basis or contouring. As an alternative, she reached for one factor: her darkish burgundy lipstick. It was the one make-up she wore, and he or she wore it with goal. It was her of completion—her signature. For her, magnificence wasn’t loud. It was lived-in. Nice-Grandma Genevieve had her personal tackle wellness and wonder. She believed magnificence began from inside, so she soaked onions in vinegar and drank loads of water. Daily, she rubbed cocoa butter into her pores and skin with the type of care that instructed you she was defending one thing sacred. Like Barbara, she relied on Pond’s for moisture. Her skin-first strategy was forward of its time and grounded in custom, utilizing what was accessible, reasonably priced and trusted.
Grandma Betty, nonetheless, introduced the glam. She washed with cocoa butter cleaning soap and wore Style Honest’s iconic bright-red lipstick. I bear in mind how her lip shade lit up the room earlier than she even mentioned a phrase. At a time when few merchandise have been made with African American girls in thoughts, she made what she had work—and he or she labored it flawlessly. She confirmed me that magnificence could possibly be daring, unapologetic and somewhat enjoyable.
Then there’s my mother—my fixed. She stored her routine grounded in nature and consistency. She cleansed with mild, pure soaps and relied on Pond’s moisturizer. Often, she would use child lotion, although she later needed to let it go as her pores and skin modified. Nonetheless, each night, she would hum softly whereas making use of her cream within the mirror. That second was greater than skincare; it was self-connection. Watching her made me notice that magnificence is care, and care is love.
Nice-Grandma Genevieve had her personal tackle wellness and wonder. She believed that magnificence began from inside, so she soaked onions in vinegar and drank loads of water.
The tales she shared about my grandmother and great-grandmother, and the way I used to be at all times so protecting of them, helped me perceive my very own deep connection to the ladies in my life. That protectiveness developed into reverence, shaping the shut relationships I now maintain with my mom and the girlfriends who really feel like household.
As I grew older and commenced exploring my very own relationship with magnificence, I spotted one thing important: make-up and skincare aren’t about altering your self. They’re about amplifying and taking good care of what’s already there. In the present day, magnificence is my secure area. Whether or not I’m making use of under-eye patches, layering fragrances or including a contact of mascara earlier than heading out the door, these moments aren’t about self-importance; they’re about visibility. They remind me of my roots—of Grandma Barbara’s lipstick, Grandma Betty’s radiant pores and skin and my mother’s mild palms.
For many people within the Black neighborhood, magnificence isn’t frivolous. It’s an act of resistance. It’s how we reclaim area, honor our historical past and declare ourselves worthy. These girls made one thing out of little or no and nonetheless made time to glow. Their rituals have been quiet, however highly effective.
Now, after I look within the mirror, I see greater than my reflection. I see legacy. I see girls who used Pond’s and cocoa butter, who wore pink lipstick like armor, and who made magnificence their very own, even when the trade didn’t make area for them.
Their classes stay in each swipe of gloss, each serum I pat into my pores and skin, and each second I select myself. And in these moments, I stand tall—moisturized, radiant and deeply cherished.
