Why do I like expensive things?
Even the packaging looks so 1992...
So. I’ve heard off and on about the famous Creme de la Mer, and how ridiculously expensive it was, and how all these starlet-types swear by it, but my feeling has always been, the newer the skincare technology, the better, right? I mean, this Creme de la Mer stuff has been around for quite awhile, and if it really possessed the miraculous anti-aging qualities it claims, then why would dermatologists continue to invent new creams and serums and tonics and whatnot? (Yes, I know the answer is: those other dermatologists are not interested in providing us with the ultimate skin cream, they just want to sell us more products.) Anyways, I found this article in Elle magazine that has nearly convinced me I really should cough up a month’s worth of grocery money for a little tub of the stuff, if only for a first-hand glimpse of the mystique surrounding this cult product.
Giant Sea Kelp, or Macrocystis
Here’s the rundown. 40 years ago, aerospace physicist (ok, that title alone had me sold) Max Huber conceived of a seaweed-based formula for a salve to treat his rocket fuel burns. He selected the giant kelp because of its use in traditional Chinese and Native American medicines to cure a multitude of ailments, as well as the proven qualities of the sea minerals that the plant feeds on. The final concoction took him 12 years and 6,000 experiments to perfect, and his exact specifications are still followed to the letter today. Twice a year, the Kwakiutl tribe (one of Vancouver’s oldest) sails out into the deep sea and harvests, by hand, only the tips of the seaweed macrocystis, which are then immediately put on ice and flown to a Long Island laboratory where they undergo a complex process of fermentation. Despite the skepticism of later cosmetic scientists attempting to reproduce the formula, the proper result can only be achieved when copper plates are placed inside the fermentation tanks that vibrate with a frequency replicating the gurgling sound of previous batches of seaweed, a phenomenon called sono-chemisty that Huber and other scientitsts of his generation were actively exploring. And all that can be yours for a mere $130 per ounce.
I really feel like I should get myself some.
