Long ago (2017–2021), I was a West Village girl (I guess). I wandered around my quaint neighborhood and went into really expensive little shops selling artisanal salt. I used a little independent pharmacy for my prescriptions and the pharmacist loved to load me up with samples from their various frou frou brands. It was there that I found my almost-perfect sunscreen, which was a brand called “Bare Republic.” It was a mineral sunscreen with a fluffy, almost whipped texture that made it pleasant to apply on my face. After a few minutes, the sunscreen dried down to a powdery, matte finish and the white cast would be mostly gone.1
Now sunscreen is one of those things people admonish you to wear and reapply every two hours even in the dark in your sleep set a timer and so on. We are all also supposed to say that we do this because of skin cancer, but, speaking for myself, I do it out of vanity. However, like, I would guess, many people, I only remember to use it if I use a retinoid-type product and I forget if I don’t.
So even though I liked this sunscreen so much, it wasn’t like I was on some sort of subscription plan because of my consistent sunscreen usage. I just remembered to order it from time to time. And recently as I was getting out my sunscreen I thought, “it might be time to order more sunscreen.”
I went to their website.…
…and I went to their Instagram…
…and I have been forced to come to the following conclusion: this brand does not exist anymore. Since sunscreen does actually expire, I can’t really buy up some tubes elsewhere (they are still out there, for now) and hoard them. Not a longterm solution. No, it was time… to reascend the great hill of product. I thought I had reached the top of the hill. Now here I was, back on my journey.
You might be thinking: “Barbara, isn’t it kind of undignified to post about sunscreen? Like, this is a books newsletter? Do you envy Katie Kitamura her Clinique lip gloss drama?” To such effrontery, I’d like to give the following principled reply….
I want to write this off on my taxes.
OK, let’s get to it. Two non-negotiables for sunscreens: first, they cannot be noticeably fragranced and second, I cannot feel them sitting on my face. Despite my love of perfume, I hate fragranced things. Obviously, also, they need to block out the poisonous rays of the sun. However, I have no easy way of testing that one out short of “not getting sunburned when maybe I could have been.”
The French Option
I had a moment of what I’ll call “girl the tariffs” panic earlier this year and went to French Pharmacy to purchase some French cosmetics to store up against the long winters. I was getting my tube of A313 and thought to myself, why not try this sunscreen? The fact is, I have not really loved French sunscreens in the past. They feel runny and yet sticky. But I’m older now, you know? I am a jolie madame, or whatever, I don’t think that’s the term I want. Maybe it was time. Time for me and France.
I’m not going to post a picture of myself in this one because this leaves such a strong white cast it looks like I’m doing some sort of racist thing against mimes. “You can’t be racist against mimes,” you’re probably thinking. “Mimes are not a race.” All I know is what I saw in the mirror. It’s also sticky such that I can feel it sitting on my face, which is my number one thing that I simply can’t stand. I’ve been using it elsewhere (arms, neck, whatever) until I use up the bottle. But once again, France and I, we are like ships colliding in the night when it comes to sunscreen.
Not A313 though. Love A313.
The BB Cream
As a millennial, the mere term “BB cream” induces a kind of trauma flashback, much like “Anthropologie” or “ballet flat” or “ModCloth” or “mason jar” or “just throw on a blazer.” I’m not sure I ever even tried a BB cream back in their heyday. My problem with all tinted moisturizers is that if they don’t match my skin tone, they just look weird, but if they do match my skin tone, they feel pointless. Like yeah that’s my skin! Looking like… the color of my skin!
But, more importantly, I can always, always, always feel them sitting on my face.2

This actually does match my skin tone, I think, and it’s less annoying than the various tinted sunscreen type things I’ve tried. But… it’s still kind of annoying. When I first tried it I only put a tiny bit on half of my face and it blended in and felt fine. When I tried it the second time (above) I did the thing where you actually apply the amount you’re supposed to apply. This felt less fine and I ended up washing it off.
I’m also once again forced to acknowledge my Jupiter-sized vanity means that I always feel like anything makeup like, other than lipstick, makes me look worse. It’s fine in the picture but in the mirror when I smile or something it makes me feel like I’ve got some creepy skin-colored mask over my skin. I’ll use it up one way or another but it just ain’t for me.
The Chemical One
Here’s something I think one has to get straight about sunscreen: unlike other products, where one might say “oh, a little goes a long way” when the price is high, you use basically the same amount of sunscreen no matter what you’re doing.3 More expensive sunscreen will not go a longer way. It is just more expensive. It might be better for you, but it is not a case where spending more up front saves you money later. Spending more up front means spending more later. This is the most expensive sunscreen out of all the ones I tried so I don’t really want to like it.
Secondly, chemical sunscreen hates the reefs and though I am not near a reef I have mixed feelings about that. I don’t want to be complicit in reef hatred. Also, I tried one of the chemical sunscreens everybody likes a long time ago, and I didn’t really like it. But I was drawn to the part where I am promised an “airy” sunscreen.
Unfortunately for me, while this sunscreen isn’t that nice fluffy texture, once it was on I completely forgot about it. It’s also got quite a smell, which I didn’t expect, and which is annoying, but even that isn’t so bad and goes away quickly. Still, I might give it away because of the fragrance, and also because I felt like it might have irritated my face. But I haven’t decided yet.
The Crunchy Hippie Sunscreen
Of course, another quality my late, lamented Bare Republic sunscreen possessed was that it was “reef safe.” You could take that buster to the ocean. I’m not at the ocean, no, but maybe I want to be some day. Enter Babo Botanicals.
The consistency of this sunscreen is very runny. When you open it, you may be tempted to give the bottle a little squeeze as you measure your sunscreen out. Resist this urge… or pay the price. But once it goes on, I forget that it’s there. It doesn’t feel sticky on my face, though it does feel a bit tight as it dries. So this is one I’ll probably keep getting when I run out of it. It checks the boxes.
NB: The color of this sunscreen is sort of “off white,” I’d say. I think it probably has a faint white cast if you have a darker skin tone.
The Japanese One
I did not want to try this Kanebo sunscreen because 1) girl the tariffs 2) it would feel like self-parody if I liked the one from Japan the best 3) when shipping is added, there aren’t many options for buying it that don’t feel overpriced. But it was “reef safe,”4 in some sense, and it was like well what if it is The One. What then.
Texture-wise, this was easily the nicest sunscreen; white cast–wise, it’s manageable. I don’t feel it on my face. It has a very weird, plastic smell, like a new binder. And I do like the smell of a new binder, but it’s a little bit much to spend your first few minutes of the day walking around in a new binder cloud.
Ultimately, it’s my second choice among the ones I’ve tried out, but it’s probably not worth the hassle of buying again. Weeb allegations defeated… for now.
Winner: Babo Botanicals.
Just kidding. There are no winners in this game of life. There is only postponed losing.
For reasons I don’t understand the trend right now is for people to look as damp as possible. Reddit serves me these ads for lip gloss sometimes that I frankly find frightening. At BDM Industries, our preference is to look dry. “Sere,” as they say in the crossword.
My absolute inability to stand the feeling on stuff sitting on my face is why I don’t wear makeup—I would like it to be some kind of brave feminist gesture, but it’s not, I just hate the way it feels. As this post amply demonstrates, I am happy to spend money on vanity.
This is not quite true but it’s true enough.
As a marketing term “reef safe” doesn’t really mean anything (as far as I can tell).
> Barbara, isn’t it kind of undignified to post about sunscreen? Like, this is a books newsletter?
Avoid audience capture, rage against the themes!
Yeah, I'll skim a post about perfumes or sunscreen, it's still better than rage bait, drama slop, the takes industry and the "substack sucks" posts.
My favorite brand of sunscreen is "Fuck, I left it home", I always yearn for it three days of bike-hike in, when I can peel my skin like a snake.
I like this from PC: https://www.paulaschoice.com/resist-super-light-wrinkle-defense-spf-30/776.html
But I was looking for more "coverage" - a BB cream type thing, I guess, sorry - and switched to Cerave tinted mineral moisturizer from the drugstore. Goes on thick but absorbs. I also like Supergoop's Glowscreen, but am pregnant and have to use mineral sunscreens. (Also, the reefs)