From cucumber sunscreen to toothpaste pimples, here’s why TikTok skincare is full of hype, BS, and dangerous hacks your skin doesn’t deserve.

In the age of TikTok, skincare advice is no longer whispered over a beauty counter, it's easily can get by watching a 15-second clip with sparkly filters and ASMR. It’s addictively watchable. It’s fun. And it’s often absolute, unfiltered bullshit.

Somewhere between the genuinely useful tips from licensed professionals and the utterly absurd hacks involving cinnamon, toothpaste, or lemon juice, TikTok has birthed a skincare culture where trends evolve faster than skin cells can renew themselves and that’s a problem.

Because skin doesn’t work like a TikTok trend. TikTok’s beauty and skincare community known as “SkinTok” exploded during the pandemic. With more time at home, people started filming “self-care routines,” sharing acne journeys, and posting product reviews. The format was perfect: quick, visually satisfying, and easy to copy.

At first, it felt empowering. Skincare felt less elitist. Dermatology terms went mainstream. Even teenagers started knowing words like “niacinamide” and “ceramides.” Brands noticed and started sending out PR packages like confetti.

But where there’s hype, there’s overhype and soon, SkinTok was flooded with dummy-experts giving “dermatologist-level” advice without any formal training. That’s how you end up with videos like “Crush an aspirin and mix it with lemon juice to instantly fade dark spots!” (a.k.a. how to get a chemical burn in one easy step).

TikTok thrives on instant gratification, and skincare is the opposite. Most skin treatments take weeks (if not months) to show visible improvement. Cell turnover alone takes 28–40 days, longer as we age. But telling people “you might see results after consistent use for 8 weeks” isn’t exciting — so creators simply promise transformation in a day.

You’ll see captions like:

SkincareTok loves an ingredient flex. Creators will casually sprinkle terms like “hyaluronic acid,” “AHA/BHA,” “peptides,” “retinol,” “azelaic acid,” and “tranexamic acid” into their speech like it’s seasoning.

But here’s the catch:

Common offenders include:

• Lemon juice for brightening — way too acidic, can cause chemical burns and worsen pigmentation.
• Crushed aspirin masks — unmeasured salicylic acid dose, risk of irritation or allergic reaction.
• Toothpaste on pimples — contains whitening agents and detergents not meant for skin.
• Cinnamon masks — a known irritant that can cause severe contact dermatitis.
• Sugar scrubs for exfoliation — sharp granules that create micro-tears in the skin.

• Relatable “Before” Stories

Many creators show their skin struggles, which makes them relatable. If they “found” a miracle fix, viewers feel hope — even if it’s not grounded in science.

Watching someone scoop cream with a tiny spatula while tapping on the jar in a soft ASMR rhythm is weirdly satisfying. The vibe sells the product as much as the claims.

• Fear-Based Marketing

Some videos blow up by villainizing ingredients (“Sulfates will ruin your skin!”) — often without context. Fear sells faster than facts.

• Placebo Effect

If you expect a product to work, you might perceive improvement even if nothing has changed.