When we were first dating, my husband said I worked the word exfoliation into almost every conversation. I was a new beauty editor at the time and obsessed with peels, scrubs, microdermabrasion, retinoids, derma-planing, you name it. Anything that cleared out clogs and sloughed off old skin. I believed it helped with breakouts, fine lines, sun spots, calluses, even just tired, hungover skin (this was my twenties, after all). And I still believe this—probably more so now that I’m nearly 46, and my skin cells aren’t turning over nearly as quickly or efficiently as they did twenty years ago. So, when I have a day off (rare; freelancing life means deadlines are always looming), I love nothing more than to do a head-to-toe deep exfoliation.