What a 2024 review of 48 studies found about dark marks on deep skin — and what women are doing instead.
Elena Martin,
Beauty Desk, The Deep Skin Report
• 14 hours ago

A single body product made specifically for deep and rich skin tones is outselling drugstore fade creams among Black women with dark knees, stretch marks and old scars — and the reason has nothing to do with a new ingredient.
It has to do with a category error most women were never told they were making.
Our investigation found five reasons women are switching.
Start with the part nobody says out loud.
You have spent years buying products designed to make dark marks go away.
Ambi. Nadinola. Kojic soap. Turmeric. Vitamin C. Papaya soap. A pumice stone you probably regret.
Maybe a chemical peel.
Maybe a dermatologist who looked at your legs, said the marks would settle with time, and sent you home.
One woman on a beauty forum compressed twenty years into a single sentence: “Tried many things: scrubs, creams, peels and nothing has made a difference.”
Another put the whole thing more plainly still: “Nothing ever worked so I gave up.”
And somewhere in the middle of all that, quietly, you made an adjustment.
You stopped buying the dress.
You started planning around the knee.
You learned which angle to stand at in photographs, and which seat to take at the table, and which month you could stop wearing jeans.
“I’ve planned around my thighs every summer for as long as I can remember.”
“I stopped wearing dresses and skirts years ago.”
Nobody experiences that as a decision.
It happens one skipped purchase at a time, over a decade, and no single one of them feels like anything.
But add them up and it’s a wardrobe you don’t own, a pool you don’t get into, and a graduation photograph you’re standing behind somebody in.
Here is the part that changes things.
You didn’t fail at those products. Those products failed on your skin — and there is published data on exactly how badly.
In 2024, researchers published a systematic review in the Journal of Cutaneous Medicine and Surgery examining treatments for post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation.
That’s the medical name for the dark marks left behind by a shaving bump, an old scar, a bug bite, a pregnancy.
They pooled 48 separate studies covering 1,356 patients with skin of colour.
Their conclusion was blunt: a lack of robust efficacy across all treatment modalities.
Not “some work better than others.”
Across the board.
The specific numbers are worth sitting with.
Hydroquinone — the active ingredient in nearly every fade cream sold in a drugstore — produced complete resolution in roughly 7% of cases.
Chemical peels came in around 9%.
Laser was the only intervention that cleared a meaningful subgroup, at 26% — and that’s a clinic procedure, at clinic prices, over multiple sessions.
(drugstore fade creams)
(clinic, multi-session)
Read those percentages again with your own history in mind.
You weren’t unlucky.
You weren’t inconsistent.
You weren’t using it wrong, or not long enough, or in the wrong order.
You bought into a category that, on skin like yours, mostly doesn’t work — and nobody selling it to you had any obligation to mention that.
There’s a second layer to this, and it’s structural.
Fade products work on the surface.
They are formulated to act on pigment sitting in the upper layers of the skin, where a topical can actually reach it.
But when skin is inflamed — a bump, a burn, a scar, a stretch mark — deeper skin tones respond by producing more pigment, and a significant amount of that pigment settles further down.
Below the reach of anything you rub on at night.
Think about a stain in fabric.
If the stain is sitting on top of the weave, you can lift it out.
If it has soaked all the way through, you can scrub that fabric every night for twenty years and it will look exactly the same at the end of it.
You’ve been scrubbing the fabric.
That’s not a failure of effort.
It’s a mismatch between where the pigment is and where the product can go — and it’s the reason the numbers in that review look the way they do.

So what happens now?
If the marks can’t reliably be removed — and forty-eight studies say they mostly can’t — what exactly have women been asking for all this time?
That question turns out to have a surprisingly specific answer.
And it’s the reason a product most of these women had never heard of is now outselling the creams they grew up with.
For twenty years the industry sold you removal.
Fade it. Lighten it. Erase it. Get rid of it.
That was the only shelf there was, so that’s the shelf you shopped.
But go back to the actual moment.
Standing in front of a mirror with a dress you like, looking at your knees, and deciding no.
In that moment you weren’t asking for the marks to be gone from your body. You were asking to not see them.
Those are two entirely different requests.
One of them, on your skin, has a documented success rate of around seven percent and takes six months to fail.
The other one takes about ten minutes — and it has been a solved problem for eighty years, in an industry that simply never pointed it at you.

Look at that photograph again.
It’s real.
That is what her skin looks like today, in that room, at the moment the shutter went.
Nothing was removed from her body to get there.
What most women assume when they see an image like that is a timeline — months of something, applied nightly, slowly working.
That’s the only story anyone has ever told them.
It took ten minutes.
That’s the entire difference.
Not a weaker version of the thing you wanted.
A faster one.
The result you have been chasing since you were twenty-two, available tonight, on an ordinary Tuesday, before you leave the house.
Body coverage isn’t new, and it isn’t a gimmick.
Its original job was film.
Studio makeup departments — the Westmore family ran them for decades — needed skin to read as even under camera light, and they built products specifically to do it.
The same technology moved into medicine.
Corrective camouflage makeup was developed to cover vitiligo, birthmarks and surgical scars, and dermatologists still recommend it for exactly that today.
So coverage was never the cheap option, or the giving-up option.
It’s the professional one.
Actresses have had this for eighty years. It just never came in your shade.
And that part is documented too.
When Tarte launched Shape Tape with fifteen shades, three of them were for brown skin.
Sally Hansen sells body makeup in a range called Light, Medium and Tan.
Women describe standing at a counter and being told, flatly, “we don’t have your foundation shade.”
One woman in a national feature described mixing crayons and mascara as a girl to build her own colour, because nothing on the shelf came close.
She’s the one who wrote the sentence that explains this entire market: “Nothing ever worked so I gave up.”
She didn’t give up on her skin.
She gave up on an industry that never made anything for it.
Which brings us to why the switch is happening now.
Reason 1
Here’s the uncomfortable truth about fade creams.
Every one of them is asking your body to perform.
Break down pigment. Turn over cells. Change something structural, over weeks, while you wait.
And then asking you to keep buying it for eight weeks before you’re allowed to find out whether it did.
That’s the model, and it’s why the failure is so slow and so expensive.
You don’t get a clear no.
You get six months of maybe, followed by a bottle you stop repurchasing without ever really deciding to.
Rihisa isn’t asking your body for anything.
You apply it to clean, dry skin, you blend it in, you let it set for about ten minutes, and the marks are not visible.
Dark knees. Dark elbows. Stretch marks. Razor scars. Old bug bites. Patches on the inner thigh that have been there since you were thirteen.
Not lighter.
Not visible.
There is no eight-week wait because there is nothing to wait for.
You find out whether it works on your skin the first night you use it — which, for a woman carrying a decade of receipts from products that quietly did nothing, is the entire point.
One customer put it this way after her first application: “one layer of Rihisa hid them instantly.”

Reason 2
Ask any woman who has tried body makeup what went wrong and you’ll get one of two answers.
It went grey.
Or it went orange.
“Still ashy 🤷🏽♀️” is how one woman described a shade that was supposedly made for her.
Another watched a well-known brand’s product oxidise on her skin and turn orange within three hours.
Rihisa exists for one reason: it’s made exclusively for deep and rich skin tones.
Not a mainstream range with two dark shades bolted on at the end, after the marketing photos were already shot.
Six shades — Espresso, Cocoa, Mocha, Toffee, Caramel and Honey — and every one of them backed by a Color Match Guarantee.
Wrong shade, we send the right one free, and you don’t send anything back.
Which means the thing women in this category have been doing for years finally stops.
No more buying two bottles to build one colour.

Reason 3
The single most common horror story in this category has nothing to do with colour.
“It takes a good 24 hours to stop rubbing off on sheets and clothing.”
“Came off all over my dressing gown.”
“It’s thick and it stains your clothes. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
That’s why most women who try body makeup once never try it again.
Not because it looked wrong.
Because it cost them a shirt, before an event they’d been dressing for all week, in front of people.
The reason it happens is structural, and it’s the same reason every time.
Most body makeup is a heavy pigment suspension that sits on top of the skin.
Nothing anchors it.
So anything that touches it takes some of it with it — the car seat, the sofa, the inside of a sleeve, a white dress at a christening.
Rihisa is built on a black seed oil base, and the base is the mechanism.
The oil carries pigment into the surface of the skin instead of leaving it stacked on top of it.
Once it has set, there is far less sitting on the surface available to transfer.
Which is why it holds through a car journey, a full working day, and the dress you were afraid to wear.
The routine that makes it work is three steps and nobody tells you them until after you’ve bought:
Buff it in. Give it ten minutes. Then get dressed.
And we’re guaranteeing it in writing, further down this page.

Reason 4
This is the distinction most products in this space miss entirely.
Face makeup gets applied to a face that isn’t doing very much.
Your body is a different problem.
Your knees bend. Your elbows bend. Your inner thighs rub together in July.
Your arms go through sleeves, your shins go against a car door, your stomach spends the day against a waistband.
That’s why so many women report a product that looked perfect in the bathroom mirror and had cracked, patched or migrated by the time they arrived anywhere.
It wasn’t formulated for skin that moves.
Rihisa is a body product built for the specific places women in this category actually name.
Knees. Elbows. Inner thighs. Shins. Ankles. Arms. Knuckles. Chest. Stomach. Neck.
Stretch marks that arrived with a first baby and never left.
Scars from shaving bumps that darkened and stayed.
Keloids. Old surgical lines. Patches that have been there, as one woman put it, “since I can remember.”
Those are the areas it was designed around — not a face formula being asked to do a job it was never built for.
And that matters more than it sounds, because the areas women hide are almost never the areas the beauty industry photographs.

Reason 5
Here’s what women who use coverage talk about that nobody puts in an advertisement.
It isn’t how the legs look in the mirror.
It’s the moment somewhere around two in the afternoon when you realise you haven’t thought about your legs since you left the house.
Because the real cost was never the marks.
It was the vigilance.
Choosing the seat. Angling the leg. Scanning the room. Tracking whether anyone was looking, and whether it was showing, and whether they could tell.
That runs constantly, in the background, at every wedding and every barbecue and every family photograph.
And it has been running for years.
One woman described covering her legs for the first time and reached for a word that has nothing to do with beauty.
She called it calming.
Another wrote something even simpler after her granddaughter’s graduation: “I took photos and loved every one.”
That’s the actual product.
Not the coverage.
The photograph you’re in, and the fact that you liked it.

4.8 ★★★★★ · Based on 1,330 reviews
It comes down to a single distinction that has been blurred for this customer her entire life.
Fading is treatment.
It asks the skin to change. It works in a small minority of cases on deep skin tones. And it takes months before it tells you whether you were one of them.
Covering is cosmetic.
It asks the skin for nothing. It works the first time or it doesn’t, and you know inside ten minutes.
Every product she has ever been offered for this problem sat in the first category.
Almost none of them worked, and the pooled data across forty-eight studies says so in plain language.
Rihisa sits in the second category — the one built for the camera and refined for the clinic over eight decades, and finally formulated for deep and rich skin from the start instead of adapted for it at the end.
Same outcome in the mirror.
Radically better odds of getting there, and about six months faster.
You have spent money on this problem before and gotten nothing back for it.
So the risk sits on us, in three separate places.
That last one is the one that matters, and most brands in this category won’t write it down.
They’ll guarantee the shade, because shade is easy.
The question you’re actually asking — “what if I spend the money and my scars still show?” — is the one they leave you to answer alone.
We’re answering it.
Based on the evidence, the picture is reasonably clear.
Treatments for dark marks on deep skin have been studied, pooled and measured, and the results are weak across every single modality.
If you have spent ten or twenty years on fade creams and seen no real change, you are not the exception to that data.
You are the finding.
Coverage is a different category with a different success rate, and it has existed since Hollywood needed skin to read evenly on film.
What hasn’t existed, until recently, is a version formulated from the start for deep and rich skin tones — rather than a light base darkened at the end and sold with a shrug.
And there’s a timing element to this that isn’t manufactured.
It’s July.
The dresses are in the shops now.
The weddings are this month.
The pool is open now, and your children are in it now, and they will be a year older next summer.
The graduation photograph gets taken once.
So you can spend another summer planning around one part of your body, the way you have planned around it every summer for as long as you can remember.
Or you can find out, in about ten minutes tonight, what it looks like when you don’t have to.