Beauty on the brain part 1: a 20-something ponders wrinkles

Kiehl's Super Fluid UV Defense SPF 50+ is light and doesn't give me breakouts. 

I'm well aware I'm only 26-years-old, but lately I've managed to add something to my compendium of fears: aging. More specifically -- and superficially, I'm referring to the aesthetic aspects associated with getting older, i.e., wrinkles, dark spots, sagging, etc.

Ever since moving to Miami, the harmful effects of getting too much sun exposure has been on my mind like never before. Just recently I read an article on Refinery 29, where Dr. Craig Kraffert, a board certified dermatologist said, "sun exposure is the main cause of aging of the skin -- it isn't age."

In a way this is reassuring, because if you're 20-something you have most of the tools at your disposal  to ward off visible signs of aging: wearing broad spectrum SPF daily and limiting time spent in the sun. Easy, right? Incidentally, however, the more I load up on the block, the more it makes me think about the very thing I'm trying to prevent. Next thing I know I'm buying a dark spot diminishing serum and checking for wrinkles.

What's more, it doesn't help that Miami, more so than Montreal or Manhattan it seems, is a youth obsessed city. I don't have statistics to back this up, but I would dare to say that after tourism, plastic surgery is the second largest industry here. And whereas in NYC women generally gravitate towards more "natural" looking cosmetic procedures -- in Miami I've seen some faces that couldn't possibly exist in nature. I'm not talking about Botox here, but the real McCoy my friends.

If anything, seeing some of these frightening ladies -- and gents -- turns me completely off plastic surgery, but the mere fact they felt the need to do this to themselves makes me utterly horrified re aging. It didn't help that when I pointed out some exaggerated examples of cosmetic work to my boyfriend, his response was: "maybe they look better like this than if they didn't do anything."

I don't know, but I believe that a wrinkly face still looks better, not to mention more elegant than one that bears a permanent expression of shock and that's so obviously been nipped and tucked every which way. Reminding myself of this comforts me to a degree. So does thinking about women who look beautiful because they're embracing aging naturally and are living life to the fullest.

No one is a more fitting example than my own mother. Her approach to beauty and aging has always been less is more, and her minimalist grooming routine never ceases to impress me. I pray I got her good genetics, and more importantly -- her positive attitude. In the meantime, I'm slathering on the SPF and focusing on not thinking about the "A" word.