The Top 33 Skincare Trends of 2025

First, here’s a look at the fastest-growing skincare topics of the past year:

Now, let’s move beyond keywords to explore the top skincare trends that our analysts have identified will shape 2025 & 2026.

Regenerative skincare

Skincare is no longer just about protecting what you have—it’s about rebuilding what’s been lost.

Rejuran, a treatment based on polynucleotides extracted from salmon DNA, has quietly gained traction as part of a broader shift toward regenerative beauty. Instead of focusing on surface-level hydration or temporary plumping, regenerative treatments aim to restore the skin’s underlying structure, appealing to consumers who want true recovery and long-term resilience—not just maintenance.

Several forces have converged to push Rejuran into the spotlight. The cultural influence of K-beauty helped normalize the blending of clinical treatments with everyday skincare routines, making procedures like skin boosters and microneedling more familiar outside of medical settings. At the same time, growing interest in bio-compatible ingredients has played a key role: salmon DNA’s structural similarity to human DNA reduces the risk of adverse reactions, an increasingly important consideration as the market for sensitive-skin products continues to grow.

There’s also a broader shift underway in consumer attitudes toward aesthetic treatments. While Botox and dermal fillers remain popular, there’s a rising hesitation around anything that visibly alters facial structure. Many consumers—especially younger ones—are looking for solutions that enhance natural skin quality without freezing muscles or adding volume. Rejuran, along with emerging regenerative treatments like exosome serums, fit neatly into this evolving preference: repair what’s there, rather than change it.

This regenerative focus isn’t confined to professional clinics. On the consumer side, everyday skincare is evolving too. The surge in barrier repair creams, microbiome-supporting products, and low-intervention “skin health” routines all point toward a growing desire to rebuild and protect the skin’s natural systems, rather than strip or overstimulate them.

In the bigger picture, regenerative beauty reflects a deeper redefinition of what skincare is meant to do. It’s not just about preserving youth, covering flaws, or slowing decline—it’s about strengthening the skin’s ability to heal itself, actively engineering resilience from within.

Look on the rise: glowy

Red light devices

Beauty tech is following the same pattern as home fitness: what once lived in clinics and studios is moving onto bathroom counters.

Red light masks and helmets, once reserved for dermatologist offices, have become increasingly common at home. The timing isn’t accidental. During the pandemic, access to professional treatments was limited, and interest in at-home alternatives surged. Tools that could plausibly replicate parts of a medical-grade routine—especially those backed by some peer-reviewed research—found a ready audience.

LED technology itself has quietly made the leap from niche to mass-market. Since 2008, the price of LEDs has fallen by over 98%, lowering barriers for consumer devices that previously would have been prohibitively expensive to manufacture or buy.

Meanwhile, the normalization of beauty devices more broadly—like microcurrent toning tools and percussive therapy guns—primed consumers to think of technology as a standard part of self-care. A red light mask no longer seems experimental; it feels like a logical next step.

Importantly, red light therapy has a stronger scientific foundation than many other beauty gadgets. Studies have shown that specific wavelengths of red and near-infrared light can stimulate collagen production and reduce inflammation in skin cells, giving red light masks a level of credibility that purely aesthetic tools often lack.

What’s happening with red light devices isn’t just a story about another skincare trend. It’s about how the line between clinical treatment and consumer self-service keeps getting thinner—and how technology, once again, quietly democratizes what used to be reserved for a few.

Shower water quality

Consumers are becoming more aware that it’s not just what you put on your skin that matters—it’s what you rinse it with, too.

Shower water filters have gained popularity in beauty routines as concerns about environmental factors like chlorine, heavy metals, and hard water have become more mainstream. The logic is simple: if you’re investing hundreds of dollars in serums, moisturizers, and professional treatments, exposing your skin to unfiltered water could undermine those efforts. For many consumers, it feels increasingly inconsistent to obsess over ingredient lists but ignore the quality of the water hitting their face twice a day.

Part of the appeal is practical. Compared to costly water softening systems or full-home filtration, a $50 shower filter is a low-friction, relatively affordable upgrade. It’s marketed as a small change with the potential to protect bigger investments, making it an easy sell in an industry where barrier health and minimal irritation are now top priorities.

Broader trends are reinforcing this shift. The “skinification” of haircare has led people to treat their scalp like facial skin, raising sensitivity to everything from shampoo ingredients to shower water quality. And rising distrust in municipal water systems—fueled by high-profile contamination events—has extended anxiety beyond drinking water into daily hygiene.

While research on the cosmetic benefits of shower filters remains limited, the broader behavioral pattern is clear: consumers are increasingly treating environmental control as an essential part of personal care, not an optional add-on.

Kid & teen skincare

In 2023, Sephora reported that the number of its customers aged 9 to 12 had doubled over the past five years. Social media's role in shaping this trend is undeniable, with over 80% of teenagers reportedly watching beauty tutorials online.

This growing focus on beauty among (pre)teens has fueled the explosion of brands like E.L.F., a leader in Gen Z skincare trends, which saw its revenue surge by a staggering 77% in 2024 to $1.02 billion and now commands 35% of the female teen market.

Kids’ beauty products typically consist of gentler, more hypoallergenic formulas to reduce the risk of irritating younger, more sensitive skin.

Some argue that beauty routines offer kids an opportunity for self-care and personal expression. But others are concerned that introducing complex beauty routines at a young age can send the message that looking good requires constant effort—and spending. This not only fuels self-consciousness as kids begin comparing themselves to curated ideals, but also normalizes costly habits that may be more about pressure than play.

Pregnancy-safe

Pregnancy heightens every decision—and skincare is no exception.

As ingredient literacy has grown, expectant mothers are approaching beauty routines with the same level of scrutiny they bring to nutrition labels. Questions that were once reserved for doctors’ offices—about retinoids, salicylic acid, and essential oils—are now debated daily across TikTok, Reddit forums, and dermatologist Instagram accounts. For brands, the bar is no longer just “safe enough”—it’s “safe enough, visible enough, and verified enough” to pass public inspection.

Delayed childbearing is also reshaping the market. The average age of first-time mothers has risen steadily over the past few decades, and many women enter pregnancy already using anti-aging products. The result is a demand for pregnancy-safe skincare that doesn’t feel like a downgrade—products that offer hydration, elasticity, and “glow” without relying on historically flagged actives.

This trend has been further reinforced by the clean beauty movement, which primed consumers to see “free from” marketing as a signal of quality and care. For pregnant shoppers, that mindset carries additional emotional weight: protecting the unborn child amplifies both risk aversion and willingness to spend.

In the bigger picture, pregnancy-safe skincare isn’t just about what’s left out of the bottle. It reflects how modern consumers are increasingly blending health, beauty, and risk management into a single purchase decision—especially when the stakes feel personal.

Eye care

Eye creams, once a niche category for older consumers, have become a staple in younger skincare routines.

The shift isn’t just about aging—it’s about prevention. As beauty standards increasingly emphasize “early maintenance,” brands have positioned eye treatments as a low-risk, high-impact entry point into long-term skincare habits.

The rise of high-resolution phone cameras and video calls accelerated the trend. Fine lines, puffiness, and dark circles—once easy to overlook—became hyper-visible under harsh lighting and 4K screens. Small imperfections that were rarely noticed in everyday life suddenly appeared magnified, creating a new focus on the under-eye area.

At the same time, Korean beauty brands helped reshape the category by moving away from heavy, greasy creams toward lightweight serums and ampoules, often featuring ingredients like ginseng, rice extracts, and fermented actives. This approach aligned with broader skincare trends favoring layering, targeted treatments, and “soft” performance claims over aggressive correction.

The result is a redefinition of what eye creams represent. They are no longer pitched solely as a fix for visible damage, but as an everyday tool for preserving brightness, firmness, and smoothness—before most signs of aging even appear.

In a market increasingly driven by visibility, early intervention, and subtle optimization, the eye area became one of the most natural places for consumers to start.

Scar care

Surgery rates are climbing—and with them, a new consumer expectation: healing shouldn’t just be functional, it should be flawless.

Over the past 30 years, the global rate of C-section deliveries has risen by more than 300%. Financial incentives have played a role—doctors are often paid about 15% more for C-sections than for vaginal births, and the shorter procedure time allows for more surgeries per day—but so has a broader cultural shift. Elective surgeries, cosmetic procedures, and orthopedic operations have become normalized parts of life, not rare medical events.

As more people undergo surgeries, demand has grown for better post-operative outcomes—not just in physical recovery, but in aesthetics. Scar tape, specifically medical-grade silicone sheets, fits neatly into this expectation. Unlike many scar treatments that rely heavily on marketing claims, silicone therapy has consistent clinical backing, making it one of the few evidence-supported options on the market.

At the same time, scar care is increasingly viewed through the lens of self-care. Social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram have reframed recovery narratives, with users openly documenting healing journeys and treating scar management as an extension of skincare routines. Scar tape has quietly moved from being a medical supply item to a normalized part of beauty culture.

In a world where healing is no longer judged by functionality alone, but by how seamlessly the body returns to “before,” scar care tools like silicone tape represent a small but telling evolution in how consumers approach recovery—and visibility.

Biotech skincare

Skincare is moving from treating skin types to decoding individual biology—and consumers are ready for it.

The rise of biotech-driven skincare reflects a broader shift toward hyper-personalization, closely tied to the quantified self movement and larger wellness trends. Instead of choosing products based on vague categories like “dry” or “sensitive,” consumers are increasingly drawn to DNA analyses, exosome therapies, and biologically tailored solutions that claim to match their unique cellular profiles.

This shift isn’t happening in isolation. It mirrors the broader medicalization of beauty, where the language and methods of clinical science—once confined to hospitals—are being repackaged for everyday routines. Terms like “cell regeneration” and “biomimetic repair” have entered marketing copy, lending an air of scientific credibility that traditional cosmetics increasingly struggle to match.

The economics are changing too. As biotech manufacturing costs have dropped, processes once reserved for cutting-edge medical treatments have become viable for premium consumer products. What was once futuristic now fits neatly onto retail shelves, with a price tag designed to reinforce its perceived exclusivity.

Luxury brands have leaned into this positioning. In a crowded beauty market, biotech gives them a way to differentiate not just on branding, but on process—selling not just results, but the idea that those results are biologically, even clinically, smarter.

At its core, biotech skincare is part of a larger evolution: personalization, medicalization, and status converging to redefine what it means to invest in your skin.

Non-toxic skincare

The European Union bans over 1,600 cosmetic ingredients. The U.S. bans fewer than 40,

The rise of non-toxic skincare is closely tied to a growing unease about ingredient safety and the gap between consumer expectations and regulatory oversight. That gap has become a breeding ground for consumer skepticism.

Brands didn’t just respond to that fear—they reframed it. Companies like Beautycounter and retailers like Credo turned “non-toxic” into a luxury signal, suggesting that true quality wasn’t just about performance, but about purity and transparency. Safety, once a basic expectation, became a selling point in itself.

At the same time, litigation and high-profile media stories—around talc, parabens, and chemical sunscreens—helped cement the idea that mainstream beauty products could contain unseen risks. Viral ingredient blacklists and influencer-driven “skincare education” accelerated the shift, pushing label-reading from a niche practice into a standard part of shopping behavior.

The result isn’t just a demand for cleaner products. It’s a broader shift in how trust is built in beauty: less about glossy advertising and more about proof, transparency, and the careful management of fear.

Rebranding familiar ingredients

Simplicity is being rebranded as sophistication.

Rice is the most widely consumed food on earth. Now it’s showing up in skincare. Korean beauty brand I’m From sells a $23 rice cream that’s more than 300x the cost of raw rice. What you’re buying isn’t just hydration—it’s a story: where the rice was grown, how it was harvested, and what that says about your values. Even the packaging includes a map with GPS coordinates. It’s a case study in decommoditization—turning a global staple into a niche luxury.

This shift isn’t isolated. As demand for ingredient transparency grows, brands are leaning into ingredients consumers already recognize and trust—rice, ginseng, caffeine, even beef tallow—rather than inventing obscure new compounds. With the internet making it easier for shoppers to fact-check and self-educate, complex beauty jargon is losing power.

What’s winning instead is familiarity wrapped in premium storytelling.

Beef tallow, once a humble byproduct of food production, is another example. Touted for its skin-barrier benefits and ancestral appeal, it’s now positioned as a “natural,” nutrient-dense alternative to synthetic moisturizers. The playbook mirrors what’s happening in supplement & vitamin trends too, where organ supplements like beef liver are surging—another case of repackaging traditional, known substances as modern wellness solutions.

The pattern is consistent: brands start by highlighting a recognizable ingredient, then double down by emphasizing its purity, sourcing, or heritage.

This isn’t just about skincare. It’s about how we repackage the familiar, tell new stories with old ingredients, and sell simplicity in a way that feels sophisticated.

Korean skincare

Korean skincare didn’t just introduce new products—it introduced a new philosophy around beauty, and it’s still expanding its influence.

While once seen as a niche category, Korean skincare has become a fixture in global beauty routines, thanks to its emphasis on prevention over correction. Instead of treating damage after it appears, K-beauty encouraged consumers to maintain skin health early and consistently—a subtle but important shift that resonated especially with younger buyers.

Part of its continued growth comes from how dynamic the category remains. Korean brands are often faster to experiment with new ingredients like snail mucin, fermented extracts, and centella asiatica, positioning themselves as more innovative compared to traditional Western skincare, which has historically leaned on a smaller set of actives like retinol and vitamin C.

At the same time, Korean skincare reimagined the daily routine itself. Multi-step regimens turned skincare from a quick task into a ritualistic form of self-care, aligning neatly with broader consumer movements toward mindfulness and personal wellness. In a world where routines often feel rushed, layering serums and ampoules offered a rare moment of deliberate time investment.

Even as K-beauty is now well-known internationally, even sparking new alcohol trends, its growth hasn’t plateaued. New formats, gentler formulations, and accessible price points continue to bring in first-time users—particularly those seeking a long-term, low-stress approach to skincare, rather than high-pressure correction after problems emerge.

In the end, Korean skincare’s staying power isn’t just about the products. It’s about how it reframed beauty: less as a reaction to flaws, and more as a daily practice of maintenance and care.