For Me & My Ex-Roommates, Beauty Isn't Just Skin Deep
We didn’t have a tv. There was no room: our “common area” consisted of a hallway connecting our two bedrooms, a sliver of a kitchen, and an unassuming door that led to the bathroom.
That bathroom made living in Gramercy Green and paying the most expensive upperclassmen dorm rent almost worth it. Blindingly white with marble counters, vanity lights, and a massive medicine cabinet that put all others to shame, it was our dorm’s crown jewel, a New York City rarity. We didn’t watch television together, let alone scheduled “roommate bonding time” outside of our hectic individual lives: it was that bathroom, home to our skincare routines, that connected me and my roommates in the fall of 2019. That daily shared ritual was the highlight of our sophomore year living situation.
There was Katie, who prioritized lip gloss over her generic drugstore products; Carol, our resident beauty guru who interned at a glossy magazine and was compensated in free tinctures and serums; Arin, the skincare amateur and experimentalist who once washed her face with water from the rice cooker after Carol swore by its benefits; and me, somewhere between a fanatic and adversary, who was still vegetarian at that time and had Whole Foods moisturizer and charcoal deodorant on rotation.
Our respective skincare routines and the layers of oils and creams deemed as necessary varied among us, but we always shared our products. Carol never capped the expensive creams you could borrow from her. Katie, infamous for leaving her pink Turbie Twist on for hours while scrolling through TikToks, gifted us microfiber towels in our favorite colors. We had our unspoken agreements, too. Someone could hog the bathroom before going on a date. Arin switched desks with Carol so she could have a naturally lit place to do her makeup. For the four of us, skincare and beauty became gestures of roommate kindness.
As we grew more comfortable living with each other, we assumed an “open door” policy that allowed us to be both physically and emotionally close. If the door was unlocked and as long as you knocked, you were free to sit on the toilet seat and rant freely about school or relationship issues while someone listened in the shower, or even to quickly apply some moisturizer before heading back to your desk to grind. And on the rare evenings we were all headed to the same bar or party, the four of us managed to squeeze into the bathroom, blasting Ariana Grande and precariously applying eyeliner as we all jostled about, dancing. Those remain some of my favorite memories, especially when getting ready and going out have become a thing of the past: at least for now.
“We didn’t watch television together, let alone scheduled “roommate bonding time” outside of our hectic individual lives: it was that bathroom, home to our skincare routines, that connected me and my roommates in the fall of 2019. ”
People say skincare is sacred “me time” and the epitome of self-care, yet I’ve always felt better when I’ve shared my routine with my friends. I now live with my partner, whose relationship with beauty doesn’t extend beyond his blue Old Spice body wash. Our bathroom is miniscule with a standard medicine cabinet crammed to the brim with mostly my products. Sure, I am grateful that he lets me take over our storage and spend hours alone applying my serums and lotions. Yet I still think fondly of the girls in Gramercy, about the unbridled excitement of moving in and claiming our twin beds, the row in the medicine cabinet that was set aside just for me, and that beautiful bathroom that held precious moments of us being together.
