Growing up, I was surrounded by tall trees, green grass, and an endless supply of fresh air. I would wake up in the morning with a clean face and hit the pillow at night with the same clear skin, minimal products required. Seriously, I used close to nothing on my face and was worry-free.

I was awaken from that clear-skin, dream life when I stepped out of JFK and into a blanket of pollution. Almost immediately my skin felt dewy, and not in the cute freshed-face way, but more in the “Is this girl okay? She looks like she’s about to pass out” way. As I looked for my Uber in a sea of other cars, I could feel the contaminated city air seeping deep into my pores, killing any sign of what used to be clear skin.