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Battle of the body lotions, shower temperatures, and more. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
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For someone who hasn’t taken a science class in nearly 8 years, I certainly love conducting an experiment. Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything crazy—no beakers or chemical solutions here—although I’ll admit I get a kick out of running health-related trials on myself. My human guinea pig tendencies involve trying new serums, getting hooked up to NAD IVs, working out while stimulating my muscles with an electric impulse vest—you know, the works. After all, I am a journalist. It’s part of the job.
When the corneometer came across my desk (read: “desk” as TikTok For You Page), I was instantly intrigued. For the uninitiated, a corneometer is a skin hydration measurement device. It’s a pocket-sized probe that detects the moisture, oil, and elasticity levels of the skin. Based on this data, the corneometer goes so far as to assign your skin an age—a terrifying yet deeply captivating statistic. Because these hydration testing device videos would not leave me alone, I took it as a sign to make the corneometer the centerpiece of my next self-care science project. |
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I spent a week putting my usual wellness practices, including the Soft Services product suite, to the test, consulting with my corneometer before and after in order to gauge my skin’s hydration levels. These findings are what I’m about to share with you, dear reader, but first, a couple of quick notes.
The first is obvious: this is a fairly amateur experiment. I’m still using elements of the scientific method (we don’t want confounding variables!) but it’s not nearly lab-approved. This leads me to my second point: I’m a woman in my late 20s living in New York with already dry skin. Not a point of judgment, but I share this so you have an understanding of the internal and climatic baseline we’re working with.
Now that we’ve set the scene, let’s get into it... |
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The first agenda item: body wash. I tested my skin’s hydration percentage before and after cleansing with two different products, Comfort Cleanse and what we’ll refer to as The Other Guy.
I was astounded to find that my skin’s hydration increased by 63% after I used Comfort Cleanse. That’s insane. For context, The Other Guy only increased my hydration by 27%. On both occasions, my skin’s age started at 29 years old. The Other Guy brought it down to 24, whereas Comfort Cleanse brought it down to 20. |
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Onto a pretty basic variable, the temperature of my showers. My personal preference in the winter—especially after a freezing walk home from a swim—is scalding hot. However, I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone ever so slightly for a lukewarm rinse. I do know that going a step further and submerging in ice water is good for me, but that’s where I have to draw the line.
Here’s where it gets interesting. The lukewarm shower brought my skin from 29 years old to 20 years old, improving its hydration percentage from 29% to a whopping 92%. The (almost boiling) hot shower, on the other hand, brought my skin’s age down by six years, and only increased its hydration by 10%. Even so, I make no promises that I’ll be able to shower with only lukewarm water going forward... |
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Following up on this point—yes, I’ve been swimming. After joining a gym with a lap pool, I decided to take advantage. I’ve been delighted to find that same sense of freedom and childlike wonder I recalled from my days of summer camp swimming still holds up.
Interestingly, my skin’s water content increased by 8% immediately after getting out of the pool. However, when I tested it again 30 minutes later, it dropped down to 28%. My skin’s age remained solid at 26 pre- and immediately post, but an extra 30 minutes brought me to the skin of a 32 year old. Shame. |
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We’re not above pitting siblings against each other here. To remedy my post-swim dryness, I compared Soft Services’ skin rehydrating gel, Speed Soak, to their daily softening lotion, Carea Cream.
To keep it fair, I tested one formula per arm. Measured after showering, both arms started out at a 61% hydration level. For some reason, the arm I assigned to Speed Soak was spiritually 22, and Carea Cream a slightly wiser (debatable) 24. Moving on…
After applying each moisturizer, they both skyrocketed my hydration levels to 96% and my skin’s age evened out at 24. I’d like to believe Speed Soak doesn’t have any maturation powers and this was just a glitch in the corneometer.
Things are looking pretty neck and neck at this point—it’s when we check in an hour later that things get interesting. Naturally, I expected my skin’s hydration to decline a bit, so by this point, my Carea Cream-ed arm went down to 59%. On the other hand—err, arm—Speed Soak dropped down to 39%. Throughout this, the Carea Cream arm firmly remained 24 years old, and the Speed Soak arm only aged four years to 26.
You can’t exactly go wrong, and I’m sure this is highly individual, but I’m fascinated by my body’s preference for Carea Cream. |
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We’ll come back to the body momentarily, but it’s time for a brief hand hydration intermission.
I got the corneometer involved in my nightly Theraplush ritual. I washed my hands, got into bed, and measured my hands’ hydration (28%) and age (32). I rescanned a couple of minutes after applying Theraplush; while age remained the same, hydration skyrocketed to 96%. Phew.
By morning, my skin lost a fair amount of hydration, clocking in at 36%. However, the retinol claims are true—my hands anti-aged back to 29 years old. |
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| I’ll take any opportunity I can get to lurk around Sky Ting—my local yoga/sauna studio—so hydration testing felt like the perfect excuse to pay a visit to their sauna. After stripping down to my sauna uniform, I gave myself a good old probe, revealing my skin’s age to be 38 years old with a 21% hydration level. Brutal. Fast forward through 30 minutes of reading and daydreaming about redesigning my apartment to be a replica of this space, my skin emerged a year younger and 75% more hydrated. You heard it here first, folks: sweating is good for you. |
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Well, that wraps up my Soft Services experimentation in corneometry. I’m now accepting requests for future skin hydration variables to test—reply with your request and maybe we’ll do a part two.
—Katie Stone
Soft Services customer and writer of Plant Based on Substack. |
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