Scientists weigh in on skin creams and their claims of harnessing the power of stem cells

The newest skin creams beckon with an air of scientific gravitas, holding out the hope that now, at last, medicine has triumphed over the visible aging process. With tantalizing biological references and understated packaging, the products are among the first on the market to capitalize on the public's insatiable appetite for stem cell technology.

"The goal of these products is to create a more youthful cell that would replenish elastin and collagen," says Dr. Kenneth Beer, a West Palm Beach, Fla., dermatologist. A clinical instructor at the University of Miami, he conducts clinical trials on skin-care products.

And, of course, what better way to do that than to harness stem cells, those potential miracles of self-repair and curative power on which society is pinning so many medical hopes?

But a word of caution before you plunk down $80 or $155 for these potions: They may be no better than existing anti-aging skin creams, the best of which spur the skin to work harder but still produce only modest effects. Adds Beer of the stem cell-touting products' potential: "The notion that you could do that with a cream is a little bit ahead of itself. It's a great piece of marketing because there is so much interest in stem cells."

That's not to say that stem cells couldn't ultimately improve skin, perhaps in the next decade or so, says Dr. Leslie Baumann, a dermatology professor and director of the University of Miami's Cosmetic Center. But that time has not arrived, she says.

For now, she adds, consumers are being misled.

In fact, the creams don't even contain live stem cells -- just the suggestion that they're comparable in some way to the much-heralded, but largely unharnessed, cellular powerhouses.

New creams

The stem-cell skin cream frenzy began last year when a Salt Lake City company called Voss Laboratories released its product, Amatokin, at Bloomingdale's with the advertising slogan "Stem Cells: The future of skin rejuvenation." It cost $190 for a 30-milliliter tube (about 1 ounce).

Then came other, equally enticing products and promises. Celebrity dermatologist Nicholas Perricone offered up StimulCell ($155 for a 1.7-ounce jar), and Dior began hawking Capture R60/80 XP ($80 per 1.7-ounce jar). Though none of the manufacturers say the products contain stem cells, the marketing materials are vague enough that consumers could easily think they were applying the much-heralded cells to their skin. Capture, for example, claims to "utilize stem cell technology"; Amatokin says it's "made up of stem cell activating properties."