Would You Spend $12,830 For Perfect Skin?

What’s the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? Coffee, your to-do list, what’s for breakfast? For me, it’s always what does my skin look like today?

That’s been true for nearly 20 years of living with acne. My days feel dictated by the state of my face. If I wake up, miraculously, blemish-free, then I’m going to have a good day. If my on-again, off-again cystic acne spawns angry, red bumps, I might as well stay in bed.

My anxiety over my acne feels like a heavy anchor at my ankles, and I drag it everywhere. It shows up in micro decisions, like reaching for concealer or pulling on a baseball cap before running an errand. It rears its head when it comes to macro decisions, like cutting dairy from my diet or skipping a work event because of hormonal breakouts. Chasing clear skin costs me mentally, emotionally, and financially.

And I’m not alone.

Conversations about body image tend to focus on the emotional toll, but in the age of “maintenance,” acne comes with real line items: derm visits, lasers, facials, devices, supplements, and the little emergency fixes that add up fast. For women in certain cities and industries, it can also feel like a professional expense, even if no one says it out loud.

As a beauty editor and content creator myself, I’ve felt the weight of this firsthand. When it’s your job to test products and treatments and stay on top of the latest skin care innovations, having clear skin can feel like a job requirement.

Navigating “Skinpostor Syndrome”

Even though genetics often play an outsized role compared to your cleanser or your discipline, blemish-free skin is still treated like a billboard for expertise in my field. (And yes, my face has literally been blown up on a Sephora Times Square billboard!)

My work is front-facing: I post videos that thousands, sometimes millions, see, with my skin in close-up. I consult for beauty companies. I host events. I meet with brand founders. With every interaction, I can’t help but wonder whether I’ll be respected or taken seriously as an expert because of my skin. No one ever points it out directly, but I’ve noticed eyes drift down to breakouts on my chin while I speak. It fuels what I call “skinpostor syndrome,” or the paranoia that I’m a fraud because of my acne.

There are financial implications to that pressure. While I’ve never lost a brand sponsorship because of my skin struggles, I’ve turned down lucrative deals because I didn’t think my breakout-covered skin would “perform” well enough to sell a product. When my acne was at its worst, I said no to skin care deals for months. The anxiety of not wanting to disappoint partners or of putting my struggling skin on the internet forever outweighed the paycheck, even when the deal could cover one or two months of rent in New York City.

So, when I try to remind myself that my value is not tied to how my skin looks on any given day, the affirmation sometimes falls short. Working in beauty, where flawless skin feels like something that can be bought, it’s so easy to get sucked into chasing endless treatments and products.

I did the math. I was shocked.

I’m lucky. I get complimentary treatments and free samples through work. But access doesn’t cancel out all of my skin-related costs.

If I tally my out-of-pocket equivalents for the last five years, it looks approximately something like this:

• Three sessions of Lutronic Genius Radiofrequency microneedling + LaseMD ($6,900)
• Three DiamondGlow facials ($900)
• One VBeam laser session ($400)
• $750 for my everyday skin care routine, including cleanser, moisturizer, retinol, a peptide serum, eye cream, benzoyl peroxide mask, and SPF
• LYMA laser ($2,695)
• ZIIP dot ($200)
• Stacked high-frequency wand ($130)
• Dr. Dennis Gross LED mask ($455)
• Cortisone shots ($400)

That totals $12,830. But that number can climb much higher, depending on what treatments and devices I’m testing at any given time.

Seeing that figure written out is sobering. And even with the best care, results aren’t guaranteed. I still get cystic acne. Even after pimples finally calm down, they can linger as dark spots for weeks or even months.

For me, that dollar figure is hypothetical. For most women, it’s real money leaving their wallets.

Beauty Is Currency

The pressure to have clear skin is not limited to people in the industry.

“Beauty, simply put, is a currency,” says Raveena Patel, 31, who’s struggled with acne since she was 12. “I live in Miami, where it’s hyperemphasized. Pretty privilege is just paramount to making it here.”

That resonates with me as a New Yorker. After all, the city is a hub of aesthetics, home to plastic surgeons, top dermatologists, high-end spas, and the headquarters of major beauty companies.

For Patel, that investment is literal: She’s paid $1,350 for a single session that combined Fraxel (for skin resurfacing) and VBeam lasers (for redness). She’s also paid $1,000 for one vial of Sculptra to target her atrophic scars. Although her provider suggested two to three laser sessions, she’s only done one. “Cost is one of the primary factors as to why I haven’t gone in again,” she says.

The Quest For Clear Skin Is Endless

For Philadelphia-based Alexandra Leshner, 34, a multipronged approach to treating her acne is pivotal: topicals, treatments, acupuncture, and diet shifts.

“The financially responsible side of me wants to say, ‘Yes, I budget for these things,’ but I truly don’t. I don’t spend frivolously in other areas of my life. My skin is the thing that’s important to me,” she says.

Two years ago, Leshner hired a nutrition-focused “acne coach” for a 16-week program that cost about $3,000. She still struggles today, despite eliminating gluten, dairy, and soy to focus on a whole foods diet. “I hired her out of desperation. I was just at the point where no one was giving me answers,” she says.

I understand where she’s coming from. Recently, I found myself close to tears while a dermatology nurse practitioner assessed my skin during an appointment for a corticosteroid injection ($100). I felt like I’d exhausted every option, consulted countless experts, and yet I still didn’t have a solution.

Like me, Leshner has also tried lasers, spending close to $4,000 on Clear + Brilliant treatments to treat red marks and post-acne hyperpigmentation. She does laser hair removal on her face every six weeks ($200 each time), which she says helps prevent clogged pores. Her routine also includes acupuncture to reduce stress, a major trigger for her acne ($95 a session), and over-the-counter skin care products. “I don’t think I could put a number on it because it’s so bad — I spend so carelessly,” she admits.

Same.

Regular Upkeep Piles On Costs

Beyond the big-ticket treatments like lasers, a lot of acne spending is death-by-a-thousand-repeat facials.

Stephanie Chrispin, 36, based in Brooklyn, says that ahead of her 2025 wedding, she went from treating facials as an occasional nicety to a nonnegotiable monthly expense. She’s a member of Silver Mirror, a facial treatments chain with locations across the United States, where she estimates she spends $200 a month, including tip, for a 50-minute facial.

“When I got engaged, I was like, ‘Well, I need to lock in. How far in advance do I need to start planning so I can achieve the best possible outcome for my wedding?’” she says. Her conclusion? Sixteen months.

On top of standard facials, she’s paid for add-ons like dermaplaning ($95), hydrodermabrasion ($95), jelly mask (+$26), and microcurrent treatment ($26).

I similarly got sucked into a high-maintenance skin care routine before my wedding, even planning a year’s worth of treatments in advance.

Stephanie’s wedding has come and gone, but she’s kept her membership. That decision “comes with age,” she says. “I could dedicate budget to it because in my 20s, I could not afford it.”

At home, she uses the OmniLux LED mask ($400) and the Dr. Dennis Gross peel pads set ($155 for a pack of 60). To afford these products, she uses FSA dollars to buy them on Dermstore and shops in bulk during the Sephora Sale.

What We Sacrifice

Savvy spending doesn’t erase the fact that clear skin can require sacrifices. “I’ve made tweaks to my lifestyle, where I wouldn’t do as much ‘cool sh*t,’ per se,” Patel says. “Maybe not a fancy dinner with friends, or I would forgo a concert even if I wanted to go.”

She takes on odd jobs, such as serving as a legal witness in the transfer of an estate. She’s also found creative ways to reduce costs: modeling for a dermatologist’s office (she got Morpheus for free, which ranges from $800 to $1,500), or getting steep discounts through a doctor connection (PRP microneedling for $200 instead of $800), and asking a content creator friend for free samples.

She’s even considered traveling internationally for treatments. “One of my relatives said Fraxel was $55 in India,” she says.

Seeking Clarity, Not Just For My Skin

The cost of clear skin is not just financial. It’s emotional and mental, and it can feel inescapable.

As much as I participate in the never-ending quest and even sometimes enjoy skin care as self-care, I also resent how much space it takes up. I wish I didn’t feel compelled to spend so much time, energy, and money on my appearance. But we don’t live in a vacuum. Modern-day beauty standards that put blemish-free skin on a pedestal are tangled up with patriarchy, capitalism, and class.

Still, something is shifting. A growing community on TikTok and Instagram is embracing acne positivity and posting filter-free skin with texture, bumps, and scars. The days of ultra-airbrushed skin care ads are gradually becoming a thing of the past, with brands like Tower 28 and Topicals casting models with zits, scarring, and redness.

I hope that as this gets normalized, more people remember the obvious truth we still manage to forget: Acne is not a personal failure.

“I think what weighs on me more [than the financial aspect] is the emotional and mental impact of not having clear skin,” Leshner says. “Your brain is constantly going. It’s pretty exhausting. I crave being free of it.”

I feel the same. That peace, elusive as it may be, will be priceless.