An uncomfortable truth about working in aesthetics communications: the most viewed content in this industry is often the least responsible, and the language used to sell products and treatments is drifting steadily further from what it actually means.
Take ‘medical-grade skincare’, a term that has gone, over the space of a decade, from a genuine differentiator to something close to a default. When the category first developed real meaning, it signalled independently run clinical studies, named actives at stated concentrations, and professional-only dispensing that told a customer something specific about what they were buying. Now it’s a marketing shorthand that almost anyone can borrow, with no regulated definition standing behind it. When everyone claims it, it stops doing the job it was meant to do.
That drift sits inside a wider pattern. A significant amount of my time is spent on the other side of it: checking whether a claim can be substantiated, whether it would survive journalist scrutiny, or reminding a brand that prescription-only medicines cannot be advertised to the public in the UK, whatever a competitor appears to be getting away with. The gap between what’s actually permitted and what’s genuinely happening in aesthetics content continues to widen, and practitioners who follow the rules watch competitors who don’t pull ahead on reach, which understandably prompts the question of why they’re bothering.
Here’s why it’s worth bothering. Regulatory attention in this sector moves in one direction only, and it is not slowing down. When it lands on a particular claim, treatment category or marketing tactic, the brands with a clean, defensible communications history carry on largely unaffected. The ones who built an audience on claims they cannot stand behind spend a year rebuilding, often at a moment when rebuilding is the last thing their business can afford.
The brands most likely to hold up under that pressure are the ones being specific rather than borrowing a shorthand. Independently run clinical studies rather than a vague claim of testing. Named actives at stated concentrations rather than a proprietary blend. Professional dispensing that means something rather than a marketing tier. None of this is a difficult standard to meet. It simply requires being precise about what a product or treatment actually does, and resisting the pull towards language that sounds impressive but promises more than can be evidenced.
There’s a genuine question underneath all of this about whether a regulated middle category, sitting between cosmetics and medicinal products, would resolve some of this ambiguity for good. Until that exists, the responsibility sits with brands, clinics and their PR and marketing partners to hold the line themselves; not because the alternative is illegal in every case, but because credibility built on precise, defensible claims is the asset that survives scrutiny, and credibility built on borrowed language is not.
There’s no regulated definition in the UK. It’s typically used to suggest independently run clinical studies, named actives at stated concentrations and professional-only dispensing, but any brand can apply the term regardless of whether those things are true.
No. Skincare sits outside MHRA’s medicines regulation unless it makes a medicinal claim. Claims made about skincare products fall under ASA and CAP Code rules instead, which govern what can be said in marketing.
No. Prescription-only medicines cannot be advertised directly to the public under UK law, regardless of what competitors may be doing.
A claim needs to be substantiated with evidence that would hold up to scrutiny, specific rather than vague, and it must not imply a guaranteed or medical outcome it can’t support.