Skincare as Inheritance: What My Mom Passed Down Beyond Good Genes
- Hilary Burke
- Jul 25
- 3 min read
When people ask me why I love skincare so much, I could give the easy answers. I like having beautiful skin. It’s self-care. It’s ritual. It’s how I slow down at the end of a long day.
But the truth is, it’s also something more. It’s an inheritance — not just in the genes my mom passed down to me, but in the rituals, routines, and love of skincare she carried all her life. And somehow I didn't realize until after she was gone.
My First Memory: A Brown Bar of Soap
One of my earliest beauty memories is my mom’s Neutrogena bar of soap — not the bright orange one, but the translucent brown bar. It sat on the bathroom sink, worn down at the edges, simple and steady.
That simple, amber-like jewel was her holy grail. To little me, that soap wasn’t just about clean skin. It was “grown-up beauty.” It was my first glimpse into the idea that skincare could be its own ritual.
The Elizabeth Arden Years
As I grew older, my mom's skincare routine matured as well. She’d take trips into New York and spend the day at the Elizabeth Arden spa. When she came home, she’d unpack silver bottles and jars — elegant little treasures with shiny caps and weighty glass bottles.
I can still smell the toner she used. I can remember begging her to use it, to hold it, smell it. I must have been around twelve, watching her sweep a cotton pad across her face, mesmerized. It was skincare as beauty, as ritual, skincare as care.
The Chanel Era
Then came Chanel. Black and white packaging, crisp, modern, and iconic. The jars themselves looked like luxury, but it was the fragrance that stayed with me — clean, elegant, unforgettable.
When I was in my twenties, my mom even bought me a set of Chanel skincare. It felt like a rite of passage, as if I’d been invited into her world. I remember coveting those products, not wanting to use them, because I didn't want them to disappear, to be gone, to no longer be mine.
Simplifying With Time
In her later years, she moved toward Dermalogica. Facials every other week became part of her rhythm. She simplified, but she never stopped caring for her skin.
She never wore makeup — she didn’t need to. Her beauty came from her skin itself, luminous and alive from years of care.
More Than Skin
Looking back, skincare wasn’t just something my mom did. It was something she loved — a way of caring for herself that, without words, taught me to care for myself too. It’s a thread that ties me back to her. It’s a shared love, even now that she's gone.
When I think about why skincare matters to me, it isn’t only about serums, creams, or results. It’s about connection. Every jar I open, every serum I smooth on, every ritual I keep alive — they are, in some way, hers too.
The Real Inheritance
My mom gave me more than good skin. She gave me the love of caring for it. She passed down the belief that beauty isn’t about covering up, but about honoring what you already have.
And now, every time I stand at my own bathroom sink, I feel like I’m carrying forward something timeless — a shared love, a piece of her.
✨ Skincare, for me, is memory. It’s ritual. It’s inheritance.
Comments