The new status symbol is SPF 50

Starting off strong with the maker of ‘leisure enhancing sunscreens’. Looks like tanning oil but works like a very responsible SPF. It launched with a 1,700-people strong waitlist and still manages to feel niche. The person who wears this has very shiny skin and a sarong that matches their Aperol.

Whoever owns this swears by the Embryolisse Lait Crème and considers themselves an expert in French pharmacy beauty. The sun stick is compact, swipeable, and tends to show up in a bag that also has a Diptyque solid perfume.

Beloved by skincare-obsessed mamas who’ve already planned their glowing bébé’s multi-step routine, this ultra-light, water-based mineral sunscreen is technically made for children—but with a finish this smooth, it’s perfect to share between mother and mini.

Seen in the bags of the chronically dewy (the tube also made a cameo on Sabrina Carpenter’s cheekbones in the ‘Espresso’ music video), it’s part sunscreen, part highlighter, full main-character energy.

Old money. Probably very old money, for all we know. Avène is the kind of SPF one buys in bulk from a French airport pharmacy, not because it’s cheap but because it’s trusted. No frills, no fragrance, and definitely no influencer code.

Low-commitment sun protection for the highly moisturised who spend an unhealthy amount of time glued to screens. The packaging claims to block blue light—so yes, it belongs to someone who spends a lot of time with their hands in a UV nail dryer and a 4 pm Pilates slot. Great for over-makeup reapplication, desk drawer stash, or just people who prefer lounging indoors.

Favoured by facialists with laser machines, this sunscreen is packed with zinc and has a suspiciously sexy, dry finish. If there was an American Psycho remake, this bottle would make the cut in Patrick Bateman’s menacingly mechanical morning routine. (Can you believe he finished his skincare with just moisturiser? Unforgivable.)

The sunscreen equivalent of a white linen shirt and a modernist villa in Alibaug. Sleek, fragrance-free, luxe without ever needing to try. It’s worn by those who are never seen sweating, not even in sticky June monsoon weather.

As weightless on skin as it is heavy on the wallet. This sunscreen usually appears next to matching jars of Crème de la Mer on a marble-clad vanity of someone who has their aesthetician on speed dial.

The texture? Like silk emulsified in secrets. Infused with TFC8, the proprietary complex no one really understands but everyone insists works (I swear, it does). This is the sunscreen of founders, financiers, and people who “consult” from yachts. Not a cobalt blue bottle, but those who really know, know.