India, May 27 -- It started, as most millennial obsessions do, with fear. Not fear of mortality, but fear of premature ageing. We, the children of ozone holes and Olay commercials, grew up watching our mothers apply chalky, coconut-scented goo to our squirming faces. Because if we didn't, there would be consequences, in the form of a punitive paste of besan, turmeric, and maybe a squirt of lemon juice, applied with the aggression of someone scrubbing a pot. Sunscreen wasn't skincare; it was protection from home remedies and generational trauma against dark skin.

Yet somewhere between Y2K and our first Kylie Lip Kit, sunscreen stopped being a seasonal afterthought and became a daily ritual. And now, we even have a day dedicated to it. Ha...