How One Trip To Aruba Changed My Skin Forever

Like tangled-up Conair dryers and dusty Clinique samples, almost every bathroom cabinet graveyard has a jumbo-sized tub of electric-green aloe vera gel buried in the back right corner. For me, it’s always been the thing I reach for in mid-July when I fall asleep on my stomach halfway through a trashy beach read — not something I slather on every day as part of my routine. But that all changed when I visited Aruba last year.

“In Aruba, aloe isn’t just a sunburn remedy — it’s a way of life.”

The Caribbean island, which is situated so close to the Equator that you can feel the sun burning your epidermis the second you step onto the airport tarmac, counts aloe as one of its main exports. The desert-like climate creates an ideal environment for the plant to grow, and the economy has relied on it as one of its top agricultural products (followed by livestock and fish) since it was introduced by the Dutch in the mid-1800s.

As I drove out of the airport in Oranjestad, I noticed advertisements for aloe scattered along the road and displayed prominently in storefront windows downtown. And when I walked into the Hilton Aruba Caribbean Resort & Casino where I was staying, the first thing the front desk staff offered me was a vodka-spiked aloe cocktail. Every single toiletry in my bathroom — from body cream and sunscreen to shampoo and hand soap — had aloe listed in the first few ingredients. On the shore, vendors floated between beach umbrellas, selling aloe creams and drinks out of the same coolers. The resort even offered weekly DIY aloe scrub classes, aloe massages and facials at the spa, and tours of the local Aruba Aloe factory to guests.