In reality, a skin cream that has a significant, lasting effect on lines and wrinkles is as elusive as a Prince Charming.

The latest to make a claim is Amatokin, from Voss Laboratories. Holt Renfrew will have the emulsion for the face in September, to sell for $190 an ounce, and it's been available since last year at amatokin.com, at Bloomingdale's in the U.S. and on such websites as derm store.ca, where one ounce sells for $237.50.

What's new and controversial about Amatokin is that it's marketed as the first skin cream to use "stem cell technology." That phrase just happens to be one of the hot-button issues of the day, with both ethical implications and a potential of repair and renewal that stretches into the realm of sci-fi.

And speaking of fine lines, Voss Laboratories is walking one with its aggressive marketing of Amatokin. The promise of cutting-edge rejuvenation (without surgical cutting) is irresistible to consumers. But there's also concern about the idea of stem cells, even though -- and this is the tricky thing about Amatokin and Voss -- it's a stretch to invoke stem cells in connection with the product.

"There is confusion around whether the product contains stem cells in it," acknowledges Voss marketing director Gina Gay. "Which it does not."

And yet, she says during the same conversation, "Voss Laboratories focuses exclusively on stem cell technology."

According to the product insert, "These new 'Stem Cell' emulsions are changing everything...."

Could it be the company is trying to have it both ways? Says Rachel Chapman, senior editor of Cosmetics and Toiletries magazine, a trade journal: "They're kind of misleading in a way because it gives the impression there's stem cells in them. The positioning of a product in this way is new." She adds, "People may shy away from it."

Indeed, after invoking the concept of stem cell products, spokespeople for Voss hasten to clarify that a "new and unique" polypeptide in Amatokin merely "highlights the stem cells found in skin...."

Paula Begoun, described some years ago by then Star fashion editor Bernadette Morra as "the so-called Ralph Nader of the beauty industry," is profoundly skeptical about even this claim.

"That phrase," she says, "has no meaning. What does 'highlighting' mean anyway? ... There is no medical or structural change in the body termed 'highlighting'."

Begoun, author of Don't Go to the Cosmetics Counter Without Me, calls the stem cell claims for Amatokin "absurd."

"Stem cell research is in its infancy; in terms of wrinkles and skin care for humans, it is non-existent.... This is a classic example of how a cosmetics company can take serious science and manipulate it to sell product."

But Nathalie Chevreau, a dietitian who is research director for women's health for Voss, explains: "We have stem cells in our epidermis, which regularly divide and differentiate and give up new cells. As we get older, they may not divide as quickly. The peptide is sending signals to stem cells to divide the way they used to divide."

The product insert puts it this way: "They (the 'Stem Cell' emulsions) actually 'rejuvenate' your skin by 'awakening' your body's own reservoir of undifferentiated Stem Cells...."

Adding to the controversy about Amatokin is some ambiguity about its provenance. Voss Laboratories is part of Klein-Becker, makers of anti-wrinkle cream Strivectin.

Lawrence Block is a professor of pharmaceutics at Duquesne University whose research focuses on delivery of drugs through the skin and who has served as a consultant to the cosmetic industry for more than 40 years. He seems somewhat amused by the spin Voss attaches to Amatokin.

Block acknowledges that components exist that can penetrate the outer layer of skin and, along with proprietary formulations, "affect an outcome," although, "I suspect the effect may be transient."

As for "highlighting the expression of stem cells," he says, "That's a pretty general statement."

Block adds: "Let's just say there's a mystique associated with cosmetic products of any sort and that's part of what consumers are buying into. I'd be afraid to put too much faith in the whole enterprise of anti-aging." Mischievously, he says, "I suspect the results may depend on the time of day. Changes in lighting may have an impact, too."

Asked whether his wife of almost 34 years uses anti-aging products, he declares, "Not that I know of. She doesn't need any anti-aging cream. As far as I'm concerned, she looks the same as she always did."

Which is evidence that the most effective anti-aging agent is love.

-- Metroland Newswire