They say silk pillowcases are good for your hair and help your skin. Naturally, I bought one at full price. I’ll admit that I would love to have soft hair that isn’t a frizzy, hot mess and better skin. Honestly though, I think I mostly bought it so I could feel fancy when I get in bed.
Beauty culture is great at selling us things that might help or might just feel like help. A silk pillowcase might actually help a little (I couldn’t say for sure). I’ll be the one to admit that sleeping earlier, washing your face and using sunscreen would help too, but none of those things have a nice and silky touch or feel like a reward.
The same thing goes for the jade rollers, LED masks and those fancy moisturizers with five syllable ingredients. I want to believe each of them holds promise (though I won’t buy them myself, I can’t afford that kind of faith in them). I’m sure there’s promise in them sometimes, but I think that promise is often smaller than the price it costs. Still, we keep buying them because hope is cheap (until it costs thirty bucks).
There’s something comforting in believing these small things can make a difference. Those silk pillowcases might prevent hair breakage or help get rid of that awful morning bed‑head. Beauty culture has this narrative where you have to spend your money to truly glow. I’m not always immune. Sometimes I’ll pick up those luxury things and convince myself this is the secret solution to my problems too.
I also know I could just wash my face, drink water, get enough sleep and avoid too much sun to get most of what I want too. The rest is a nice little touch. Because sometimes the trick of believing something works is half the joy. If my hair looks a little better, great. If it doesn’t, I still slept in silk. That feels like luxury even when I’m drooling on the pillow by 3AM.
