Light has been therapeutically utilized for thousands of years by the ancient Egyptians, Chinese, and Indian populations and now by LA influencers paying for lip flips through TikTok shop commissions. In the 1990s, NASA uncovered the therapeutic applications of LED light therapy, which predominantly treated wounds, glaucoma, and arthritis. LED therapy then gained traction within the dermatological field in the early 2000s, which has now been siphoned off as an at-home treatment popularised by Dr. Gross.
LED therapy is a form of Photobiomodulation in which skin is exposed to varying wavelengths of light to elicit a specific cellular response. LED masks typically emit red or blue light. Red light, with a longer wavelength of 630-700nm, can penetrate the subcutaneous tissue; blue light, with a wavelength of 400-470nmonly, reaches the upper layers of the dermis. This dictates their therapeutic roles.
Red light therapy is most commonly used for age-related treatments. Studies have shown that collagen renewal and angiogenesis are promoted alongside an improvement in photodamage when skin is consistently exposed to red light.
Blue light is used mostly in acne treatments due to its antimicrobial properties. Its short wavelengths elicited an increase in ROS production, leading to microbial death via oxidative damage.
The FDA has recently approved LED masks; however, in an interview for Popular Science, Dr. Samantha Venkatesh, a dermatologist with Rush University Medical Group in Chicago, provided some recommended guidelines for LED mask use. You should purchase an FDA-approved mask, as different wavelengths of light can be potentially carcinogenic. It was also recommended to use on clean, dry skin, as products may react poorly to light, causing irritation, but can also lessen the effects by reducing exposure through refraction. Small goggles were also advised to protect long-term eye health.
LED masks’ popular social media presence and science-washed appearance may make you question the validity of this treatment and its effectiveness. I find myself increasingly skeptical. However, who knows, maybe I’ll look back in shame and wish I, too, was a Drunk Elephant Sephora 12-year-old.