Why did a product designer start an outdoor skincare brand?

It must’ve been 1994 or ’95 when my older sister told me, “You should start moisturizing now. Don’t wait until you think you need it.” I was just barely in high school, so obviously I didn’t listen. I just kept packing on the literally ghost-white Halloween pancake makeup because I couldn’t afford Manic Panic “Goth White” foundation. That, a LOT of black eyeliner, and the particular shade of brown-red lipstick we all seemed to favor at the time were the closest things I had that resembled a skincare “routine.”

I guess that isn’t fair to my old self. I also washed my face with literal soap or even shampoo…so there’s that. It was the ’90s—cut me some slack. At least I wasn’t pouring Sea Breeze all over my face (very often).

*If you can smell this image, congratulations! You’re over 40.*

Fortunately, my sister’s words stayed with me, and I did manage to start giving a shit about my skin before I hit 20—but, like, in secret. Because I thought I was tough shit, so clearly no one could know that I was using moisturizer AND sunscreen every day (and watching Friends when my roommates weren’t home to find out. Sorry, Jess. I lied). I even washed my face with – gasp! – facial cleanser!

My secret affair with skincare has endured ever since. Through various youthful stages of goth, punk, fights, and mosh pits, my skin stayed hydrated, damn it. Then into design school, and even when I finally traded in the glitter eyeshadow for sunglasses, tents, snowboards, and backpacks, I still really enjoyed skincare.

A career in the outdoor industry took center stage for the next 2½ decades. I was given the good fortune to design for some insane athletes—be they Olympians or the real weirdos who run ultra distances without bothering to compete or caring if anyone in the world knew.

But I also got to design performance apparel for people across the price spectrum, not just the elite with a ton of cash lying around. That’s something I hold close to my heart—we shouldn’t have to have money or sponsors to enjoy the outdoors in proper gear.

My experience designing with and for athletes—and every other kind of outdoor lover—meant I obviously got to have a lot of conversations about gear. I LOVED these conversations. I LOVE a problem. As a designer, problems are the things that inspire me the most. Tell me something that you’ve “just learned to live with,” and I have a new obsession.

We talked endlessly about weather, conditions, chafing, windburn, gravel, sweat, salt, sand, road rash, dirt, and every other little thing that can create distractions and destruction if left to stew for too long. If you haven’t guessed already, skin problems were a common theme.

We never talked about it directly—I was primarily an apparel designer, after all—but I sure did clock it. Breakouts from balaclavas. Redness from exposure. Cracked lips, nostrils, and knuckles. Nipple chafing, amIright, runners?

Not only had I found a new obsession; I’d found a lifetime’s worth of obsessions. And I was absolutely GIDDY that I’d found an obsession that brought together my four favorite things: the outdoors, gear, problem solving, and, yes, skincare. Add a hefty attitude problem, an unrestrained swear vocabulary, and a lot of dogs… ta-da! LOFI was born.

I wouldn’t say that brings us up to speed, but I do think that’s enough for now.

Stay wild, y’all.