How does light therapy work? The science behind the popular skincare treatment

Maybe you’ve seen those strange, robotic-looking, red light therapy device masks doing the rounds on Instagram and wondered what on earth they are. Or maybe your local salon has recently started offering LED facials, but you’re not sure what that actually involves. 

The beauty industry can, unfortunately, make it very easy to be bowled over by promises of your best skin yet and bamboozled by science, persuading you into spending vast amounts of money on treatments and gadgets without you really grasping what they do, how they work or whether they’re right for you. 

Light therapy is certainly a treatment that can cause confusion, and a key part of that is because it’s (unhelpfully) referred to by two different names. You might hear it being called light therapy, or by the the acronym LED, which stands for light emitting diode. To help shine a light on how does light therapy work, we’ve enlisted the help of four trusted skin experts to answer the most commonly asked questions.

How does light therapy work? The expert low down

What is light therapy?

“Light therapy is a non-invasive treatment that uses specific wavelengths of light to target various skin concerns and promote skin health,” explains Dr Ifeoma Ejikeme, Medical Consultant Skin Expert and Founder of award-winning Adonia Medical Clinic. Non-invasive means that it doesn’t involve anything physically entering or breaking the skin (unlike Botox, microneedling or filler). 

Instead, the device is placed close to or on top of your skin and “involves exposure to light-emitting diodes (LEDs) or other light sources to stimulate cellular responses in the skin,” Dr Ejikeme adds. The type of light source and the specific wavelengths used are key to how successful the treatment is. This isn’t just any old light, and you won’t get the results of light therapy from simply standing in the sunshine or sitting under a lamp.

How does light therapy work and what does it do for the skin?

If the signs of ageing are a more pressing bugbear for you, then red light is best. These are the kinds of things you want to know before buying a red light therapy device. “Red light helps stimulate the production of collagen and elastin, boosting wound healing and tissue repair and possibly helping to reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles,” says Dr Sophie Shotter, Aesthetic Doctor and founder of Illuminate Skin Clinic.

 If you really want to get into the nitty-gritty science to understand how does light therapy work, Maeve O'Sullivan, Traditional Chinese Medicine Practitioner and Co-Founder of Escapada Health sums it up for us. “Red light exposure is thought to produce a positive biochemical effect in your cells that strengthens the mitochondria, which is where the energy of our cells is created,” she explains. “By increasing the energy of the mitochondria, cells may function more effectively, as well as rejuvenate and repair themselves.” Think of it like giving your skin the energy and tools it needs to behave more like its younger self to smooth out wrinkles. 

There are different types of light therapy, and each works in varying ways within the skin to treat a range of concerns. The most commonly used forms of light therapy are red and blue, as these have the most clinical evidence behind them to prove that they work. 

So how does light therapy work for each of these treatments? “Blue light can kill the bacteria that drive acne,” says Dr Justine Hextall, Consultant Dermatologist and Medical Director of Tarrant Street Clinic. With this bacteria no longer present, it’s less likely that blemishes will form. “It also reduces activity in the sebaceous gland that produces oil in acne-prone skin,” Dr Hextall adds. It’s best for anyone who finds that their skin is excessively oily, or who is struggling with menopausal breakouts, and wants to reduce existing blemishes as well as prevent new ones from cropping up. If done properly, light therapy for acne can really make a difference. 

You might also come across green and yellow light therapy treatments, but there’s not been enough research yet to back up their claims. “There is emerging evidence for the anti-inflammatory effects of yellow light and the potential collagen-boosting effects of green light,” explains Dr Hextall. The prospect of new treatments is always exciting, so watch this space – there could be more light therapy options coming in the next few years.

Who will see the best results from light therapy?

Now that we understand how does light therapy work, you'll probably want to find out whether it's right for you. You’ll see the best results from light therapy if you want to tackle the concerns that blue and red LED light are proven to treat. “It’s a great treatment for acne, eczema, psoriasis and rosacea – essentially any inflammatory skin condition,” advises Dr Shotter.  

However, light therapy is not necessarily going to transform your skin overnight. It’s more of a slow burner when it comes to results (a turn of phrase – as a treatment it should be pain-free with absolutely no burning sensations) rather than delivering a big, dramatic, overnight change. “Light therapy is for individuals with mild to moderate skin concerns who are looking for gentle treatment options to improve the skin health and appearance,” says Dr Ejikeme. It’s often used in a supporting role, alongside other, more invasive treatments to supercharge the results. A good, experienced practitioner will know exactly how to make the most of it. 

“I use LED light a lot in my clinic alongside other acne and rosacea treatments,” explains Dr Hextall. “I use it with light peels and also post-operatively to stimulate wound healing. Many patients want to minimise downtime, so LED can be used after microneedling or laser to speed recovery.”

Is there anyone that light therapy isn’t suitable for?

Although it’s considered a gentle, non-invasive treatment, there are still some people that light therapy might not be suitable for. To avoid potentially scary side effects, It’s really important to make sure you visit a reputable, reliable therapist who will take these factors into account and clearly explain any risks to you.

“Light therapy may not be suitable for individuals with photosensitive skin conditions, those taking medications that increase sensitivity to light, pregnant women and individuals with certain medical conditions,” explains Dr Ejikeme. “It’s generally suitable for all skin tones, however, blue light is not suitable for those with darker skin tones.” 

Even if you don’t fit into any of those categories, it’s still a good idea to think about your skincare routine before going ahead with the treatment. Dr Sophie Shotter says that her patients can “combine LED with any skin ingredients you wish. This could be active anti-acne ingredients or more gentle hydrating ingredients. But, if you are using retinol, always apply this after your LED session but not beforehand, as the light can provoke reactions.”

Unlike treatments like peels and laser which are best used during the summer months to reduce the risk of triggering hyperpigmentation via sun exposure, “Light therapy is safe to use all year round,” Dr Shotter continues. “Some people find that using it during winter can even help with boosting low mood which is more prevalent in the darker months.” Just make sure you’re protecting your skin post-treatment. “We always suggest shielding the skin from direct sunlight after treatment by carefully applying SPF,” says Dr Hextall. 

What are the differences between at-home light therapy devices and in-clinic treatments?

Although at-home LED devices can be eye-wateringly expensive, if you’re breaking down the cost-per-use then they’re much cheaper than a course of in-clinic treatments. So why would you choose to pay more? It’s all about the access to expertise, plus the strength of light therapy you’re getting. 

“At-home LED is less targeted and significantly less potent,” explains Dr Hextall. “In the clinic, the benefit is that the LED can be programmed to deliver the best combination of wavelengths to manage a skin condition or stimulate rejuvenation. We usually recommend one to two treatments per week and between six and 12 overall depending on the concern we’re treating and how the skin responds.” 

With at-home devices, “the power and number of LEDs is the issue,” says Dr Shotter. “They’re just not powerful enough to give the same results as an in-clinic device. The clinical studies on LED have all been done on powerful, larger devices and therefore the results are not transferable to the mask-type devices people use at home.” 

"Ultimately, an at-home mask might help to maintain the results of your professional treatment or make small, incremental improvements to your skin, but it’s not as much of a sure bet as visiting a clinic. It’s up to you whether that’s enough to justify a price tag of upwards of £300 and 10 minutes a day spent looking like a robot, or not.  

Story by Jess Beech: Woman & Home

The Most Offensive Fashion Police Criticisms of All Time

“It doesn’t look like a baby bump, it looks like a beer belly.”

After six seasons, E!’s Fashion Police bid adieu with a farewell special on Monday. The series finale aired some three years after the death of Joan Rivers, who originally hosted the panel with George Kotsiopoulous, Kelly Osbourne, and Giuliana Rancic. In 2015, Joan’s daughter Melissa took over Fashion Police duties alongside Rancic, Brad Goreski, Margaret Cho, and NeNe Leakes. (Kathy Griffin also popped by for a hot minute.) As Joan Rangers mourn the end of the show, let’s not forget the legacy it left behind. As in, the most offensive and often horrifying and tacky “jokes” Fashion Police produced at the sight of celebrities (and one royal) and the clothes they wore. In no particular order, here are Fashion Police’s worst hits:

 Rihanna, 2012 Grammy Awards

“That neckline is plunging faster than Aretha Franklin’s head into a bucket of fried chicken.” – Joan Rivers

Getty Images

And then, as if that weren't already bad enough, Rivers added, "Rihanna could make a full body cast look sexy. And, if she keeps dating Chris Brown, she might."

Elsa Pataky, 2014 Academy Awards

“It doesn’t look like a baby bump, it looks like a beer belly.” – George Kotsiopolous

Heidi Klum, 2013 Academy Awards

“The last time a German looked this hot was when they were pushing Jews into the ovens.” – Joan Rivers 

 

Cate Blanchett, 2013 premiere of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

“This dress is like a naked Elton John. Folds of pasty white in front, with a big gaping hole in the back.” – Joan Rivers

Rivers also said of Blanchett’s Givenchy dress, “Her movie is about middle earth, which is exactly where Cate’s boobs have settled.” Yiiiiikes.

Zendaya, 2015 Academy Awards

“I feel like she smells like patchouli oil, or weed. Maybe weed.” – Giuliana Rancic

 

Pig semen and menstrual blood – how our ancestors perfected the art of seduction

These days, the search for romance can be a minefield of emotionless apps and unrealistic expectations. Saving a relationship or conceiving children can, even with the aid of counselling and fertility treatments, be harder still. Given all this, it may be no surprise that in matters of the heart, we still make recourse to some decidedly non-rational methods. People enter their star signs into online dating sites; the practice of “manifesting” has made a comeback (you can buy manifestation journals that promise to make your dreams come true); decks of love-spell cards are on sale at Waterstones. One newspaper recently ran a feature on three British women who found their ideal partners through love spells; the trio offered their readers tips. 

The use of magic for romantic purposes has a long history in Britain, and these modern examples aren’t merely curiosities: they connect us to our forebears. As I discovered while researching my new book, Cunning Folk, in the medieval and early modern periods such folk – practitioners who sold spells to the public – were a common feature of daily life. From the 13th to the 17th centuries, many cases of magic-use reveal similar desires and conundra to those we experience today.

Seduction spells, in particular, were always popular. Since it has been long established that food and drink act as aphrodisiacs, it shouldn’t be surprising that love potions were common. Goodwife Swane, who lived in Margate in the 1580s, claimed to make drinks so powerful that “if [a woman] give it to any young man she liketh well of, he shall be in love with her”. Her contemporary, a cunning man called John Prestall, boasted that his potions were so popular that no-one would ever be able to hang him, because 500 satisfied clients would bar the way to the gallows. 

The ingredients in such drinks were generally associated with heat, the reasoning being that warmer bodies were more inclined to lust. Pepper and cinnamon were thought to carry heating properties, and were a staple of the mix. What truly made these potions effective, though, was the incorporation of a little human essence. Hence the hopeful lover would add some of their bodily fluids: spit would do the job, but semen or menstrual blood was better. 

Medieval clerics worried that some might take culinary seduction further. A 13th-century manual instructed priests to ask each woman in their flock whether she had “given a fish which has died in her vagina to her husband to eat so that his love will be more inflamed”. (As a fellow academic once said to me, this puts a whole new spin on the phrase “finding Nemo”.) The fact that the dish was expected to be used within marriage, rather than on an extra-conjugal target, belies the kinds of problems people faced within relationships. Marriage was not easy; divorce was almost never an option. Partners had to, at best, seek ways to make their unions tolerable. 

Witches casting a spell to bring rain, 1489 - Ann Ronan Pictures/Print Collector/Getty Images© Provided by The Telegraph

Blessedly, most spells were less intimate. Joan Squyer, who lived near Canterbury in 1474, admitted stealing holy water from her local church and using it to wash her husband’s shirts. She told her neighbours that this was a fool-proof way of making him “humble and obedient to her will”, and advised them to try it for themselves. The Church was less happy about Squyer’s antics and made her perform penance, but it’s possible that others followed her example. 

How were cunning folk able to get away with such activities, in an era famous for its persecution of supposed witches? The truth is that practical magic was rarely high on the list of priorities for either the ecclesiastical courts – which, pre-Reformation, had far more power – or their secular counterparts. Though the medieval Church did admonish practitioners for being superstitious or blasphemous, overall the greater concern was social ills such as low church attendance and adultery. Besides, given that seduction magic often had a positive aim – spousal harmony, the creation of children – most clerics let them slide. Secular authorities were similarly relaxed: love magic would only become a crime in the 1540s, and rarely was it prosecuted even then. 

Yet these spells sometimes strayed into darker territories, at which point both Church and state sat up and took notice. In 1435, three men from Edlingham in Northumberland accused Margaret Lyndyssay of making them impotent by magically “binding their virile members”. This probably refers to the practice of ritualistically tying knots in string, then placing the charm under the victim’s bed. When the man tried to “perform”, the blood vessels would be bound up like the string, leaving him limp. Why Lyndyssay wanted to do this isn’t known, though in similar cases the spell was used for revenge by jilted lovers. Had she been living a generation later, things might have turned out badly for her: the inquisitor Heinrich Kramer wrote in his 1487 text Malleus Maleficarum that causing impotence was a favourite activity of malevolent witches. In the 1430s, however, the Church wasn’t too concerned about witchcraft, and Lyndyssay was able to deny the claims against her. Her accusers were even warned against spreading such rumours, on pain of excommunication.

The Witchcraft Act of 1735 altered the definition of magical practice from something real and prohibited to a form of charlatanry - Universal History Archive/Getty Images© Provided by The Telegraph

At least impotence spells could be easily undone, simply by finding and unknotting the string. Coercive magic could be much more harmful. Take John Meere, a law student at Temple in London in the 1580s, who had his sights set on one Mrs Editha Best. She flatly refused to sleep with him, but his attentions continued, becoming persistent and aggressive. He eventually threatened to summon the Devil to torment Best until she either consented to his demands or went mad. She gave into Meere out of terror. Disturbingly, practices like this haven’t vanished today. Only this month, a man from the Swansea area was convicted of harassing his ex-partner, and his behaviour included buying a “voodoo spell” to make her love him.

That said, magic was used for benevolent purposes more often than malevolent. Then, as now, fertility was a recurrent concern for married couples. Magical aids abounded for those having trouble. One popular method involved tying a pouch full of herbs, powders and scrolls bearing magic words around one’s neck, before having sex. (Surviving records don’t explain exactly how this was meant to help.) Edith Hooker, from New Alresford near Winchester, had a more unsettling approach. She claimed to be able to help women conceive without the need of a man – because she used “the spawn of a trotter”, meaning pig semen, instead. 

The Love Potion by Mihály von Zichy (1868) - Artefact / Alamy Stock Photo© Provided by The Telegraph

As far-fetched as it may sound, Hooker’s method tapped into a wider debate about whether women could conceive with non-human partners. A number of thinkers were particularly curious about whether demons could inseminate people. Writing in the 13th century, Thomas Aquinas argued that such things were possible, but not because demons were fertile. Rather, he suggested, they shaped themselves into succubi (woman-shaped demons) to have sex with men, captured human semen in their bodies, then turned into incubi (man-shaped demons) to seduce women and impregnate them with the stolen seed. Aquinas was thereby able to explain the common reports of women becoming pregnant with demon spawn while denying that the Devil had the power to create life – something only God could grant. James VI of Scotland discussed this theory in his 1597 treatise Daemonologie, but concluded it was unlikely to be true. 

Changes in legislation show that belief in magic waned over time at a judicial level. The Witchcraft Act of 1735 altered the definition of magical practice from something real and prohibited to a form of charlatanry; this in turn was replaced in 1951 with the Fraudulent Mediums Act, which further emphasised that magic could not be real. We had finally reached a point at which the supernatural didn’t, as far as British officialdom was concerned, exist.

But the key word here is “officialdom”. Magical practice has never fully died out. During the initial Covid-19 lockdowns, fortune-telling experienced a boom in demand. The website Etsy offers a vast range of love spells to those who want to woo someone (or win them back). There are even books of seduction recipes available. Go ahead and try them – but maybe bear that 13th-century manual in mind, and check the ingredients first.

Cunning Folk: Life in the Era of Practical Magic by Tabitha Stanmore is published by Bodley Head on May 2