I’m not going to pretend I was a low-key bride. As much as I’d love to sit here and write about how easy, breezy, and nonchalantly sexy I was on my wedding day, that would be a gross misrepresentation. A month out from the day, I look back and can track 10,000 things I would have done differently. (Apparently, that’s normal.)
There is one thing, however, I fully stand by: my skin. The beauty and the beat. I look back at photos from the big day and I’m not afraid to admit I was glowing—and that it took a lot of hard work to get there.
Let’s rewind to three months before the wedding: I’m peering into the front camera of my iPhone, freaking out. My—normally pretty okay—skin was dull, crusty and red. I was stressed. My psoriasis was making a dangerous-looking comeback, creeping up on me from behind my eyebrows. I was dehydrated. Also, it was early March, and I was in recovery from a recent stye, to which I am sadly prone. I have three months, I thought. Plenty of time to turn this around.
So I took my face in hand. I made lists of dos and dont’s ripped from TikTokers. I read all the didactic Vogue beauty wedding skin pieces I could find, and I reached out to all the beauty editors I’d ever met. I made headway when at dinner, Elle UK’s Naomi Pike (great skin) suggested I try Dr. KD. I’d heard of Dr. Karen Doherty’s delicate take on aesthetic treatments—“she does Isamaya Ffrench’s skin,” someone whispered to me in the elevator of the Condé Nast building in London—but I’d never been ready to take the plunge. What could one tiny consultation hurt? And what better time than right now?
I made an appointment, and in the meantime, my colleague Maisy and I hit Superdrug to explore some of the aforementioned TikTok hacks we’d been skin-pilled by. We stocked up on La Roche Posay Cicaplast. We hunted down silicon tape for curing scars and stuck it on our foreheads to rid them of their lines. The tape did absolutely nothing, but the slugging with Cicaplast? I’ll be doing this until I’m dead. This—plus really, truly, seriously making sure I applied La Roche Posay SPF factor 50 daily—prompted the most visible difference in my skin I could see. My redness was reduced, and my skin barrier looked healed.
This was duly noted by Dr. Karen. Arriving at her salon, situated in her house in leafy Stoke Newington—two very sweet pugs were relaxing, rolling around on the floor—I immediately felt right at home. She complimented me; I glowed. Dr. Karen kneeled beside me and we talked about my skin worries: psoriasis, redness, inflammation.
She advised a bespoke package, inspired by the new bridal packages she will offer from July 2025, and urged me to adopt a simpler skincare routine. Was this advice she would give other brides too, or was this bespoke to the package advised for me? “Simplifying your skincare routine, especially in the lead-up to a major event, is something I often advise,” Dr. Karen explained. For me specifically, however, she wanted to “keep your skin barrier strong, reduce inflammation, and support your psoriasis, so dialing back on actives like Retinoid, actives, and acids such as AHA and BHA was a conscious choice.” As I first started seeing Dr. Karen just seven weeks before my wedding, she crafted a combination approach of polynucleotides (yes, the infamous salmon sperm injections—more on that later), NeoGen Plasma (one session each), and multiple sessions of her signature Lymph and Light package.
Specifically to aid the threat of psoriasis, I used the Dermalux Tri-Wave MD numerous times. The mask promotes skin rejuvenation, collagen and elastin production in a pain-free LED treatment lasting about 20 minutes. I did this while reclining in a lymphatic drainage compression suit that made me feel like I was prepping for the Blue Origin Flight. Watch out Katy Perry.
The NeoGen and Polynucleotides were less pain-free. The day of the treatment in April, my anxiety was peaking. What had I gotten myself in for? This was my first experience of injectables and I was freaked. I tried to read, to scroll, to distract myself as my face numbed in the waiting room.
Dr. Karen’s reputation as having a gentle touch is truly deserved—she gave me ample warning of the sensations to come. Polynucleotides specifically are a natural substance—hence their popularity—and the feeling is something I’ve never experienced before. I can only liken it to a bee sting that wiggles under the skin. The NeoGen felt more like a very mild form of laser hair removal and caused only a very mild redness that lasted a few hours. That said, coming into the office after I’d enjoyed a lunch of salmon sperm, I pulled my sunglasses down low. My colleague Harald clocked me quickly and boomed across the desk, “Erm, who do you think you are? Miranda Priestly?” No, I was mortified to acknowledge, but my face was swollen and pin-pricked. I’d had the injections around the eyes; a very sensitive area. By the next day, thankfully, it had abated.
As Dr. Karen’s team explained to me, this course was based carefully on my pre-wedding timings. Ideally, they would recommend a course of two to three sessions for complete regenerative results in the lead up to the wedding. “The more time a bride can give us, the better as we can really hone in on specific concerns,” they explained. My bad. Nonetheless, I very much felt—and saw—the glowing benefits. It not only had a remarkable effect on the skin, but it calmed my out-of-control brain right down. Someone was now making the decisions for me, about me, and I could relax. I was in the wedding prep place where picking the color of paper napkins was sending me spiraling, so having this protocol fixed felt like one thing off my list.
My home skincare routine was by now much reduced; I cleansed, I used a hydrating serum, I moisturized, I slugged with Cicaplast and I religiously slathered myself in SPF. I was also drinking more water than a Love Islander. I ran to pee every 30 minutes, but I’m convinced the effects on the skin were magical. It’s a hack as old as the skincare routine itself, one all models are said to swear by, but I promise it did me wonders. I was stressed on the stye front. My GP advised cleaning my eyes with Blephasol, I did so with violent fervor. I grew confident in this routine, not even batting a freshly-cleaned-eyelid when my chin broke out mid-May. I upped the sipping, taking on liquid as fast as I could, a human Titanic, drowning in as much wedding admin as water. All this hydration was causing glow, but when fellow bride and former British Vogue beauty editor Hannah Coates recommended Olivia Johnson’s lymphatic drainage massage, facial, and cupping, I took her up on it. Rooted in Brazilian technique, with the ancient therapy of cupping combined with gentle suction from a vacuum-style machine, Olivia’s therapy was as relaxing as it was sculpting and smoothing.
Then, two days before, I had a Gua Sha facial by the incredible Jaya at Sifali. I’d tested her facial out the month before and was blown away by the skill with which she smoothed and lifted my skin. Her background in both Indian and Japanese massage can be felt in the ease and lightness of her touch. (Jaya’s homemade products are also amazing—I bought her skin oil and rose face spray to try at home and used both on my honeymoon flight to Japan.)
If this piece needs a TL;DR, here’s the long and short of it. I would definitely recommend visiting Dr. Karen, or a similarly gentle aestheticist near you. Learn about any bespoke bridal packages they offer—with more lead time than three months! This, paired with a great sculpting facial like those Sifali offers, a few days before, is exactly what the good doctor ordered. For, on the day itself, the compliments rolled in.
I had decided to DIY my hair and make-up, letting the skin speak for itself. Guests gave appropriately, well, glowing compliment—but I realized they really meant it when many were whisper-requesting the skin routine in between offers of congratulations. I’ve long stopped listening when my husband says I look beautiful, but on that day I really felt it. I think I finally believed him.
Since then, I’ve kept up the simplicity of the skincare routine. I’m still slugging and, of course, sip-sip-sipping. The salmon sperm? While the effects were glorious, I sense it will take another monumental moment—my next marriage maybe—for me to indulge in more injectables.
