Our cultural fear of ugliness isn’t something that needs an introduction. Human value, in our online ever-perceiving, ever-judging society, is equated to beauty. To be ugly is to be morally irreprehensible: it’s humiliating, it’s pitiable and disgusting. The skin-care industry, packaged as self-care that offers empowerment, in fact plays on these vulnerabilities. Maybe if I get this hot new product then I can finally hide my pores, get more friends, find a partner or land my dream job. The fundamental message pushed being ’you are not enough as you are. If you want to be prettier than you need to do these things and buy these products.’
When your face is so tied to your identity, having eyebags, wrinkles, hyperpigmentation, spots and scars impacts your mental health and distorts your self-image in a devastating way. These features are interchangeable with blemish and imperfection, acting as an outer manifestation of inner weakness to ‘keep up with hygiene’ by simply ‘washing your face’ and ‘changing your diet.’ And it isn’t just internal strife this huge misconception provides either.
As Rowen Ellis, in focusing particularly the social stigma surrounding acne, reports:
‘A study published by the American Academy of Dermatology had participants look at pictures of people suffering from various skin conditions like eczema, warts, psoriasis, and acne, and completed a questionnaire to record their reactions. 62.5% of the viewers got upset by the images. 55.4% believed that acne was caused by poor hygiene and 50% thought it was infectious. The majority said that they would feel ashamed if they had acne and 41.1% said that they would feel uncomfortable being seen in public with a person with acne, with 44.6% feeling uncomfortable touching them.’ […] ‘Those with scars were considered less healthy, attractive, confident, happy and successful. They were also thought to be less likely to have a promising future.’
Beauty isn’t just a personal goal then, but internalised as a social duty. One that starts young with Fast Company reporting how girls as young as three learn to ‘place a premium on their physical appearance.’ Think of the all the young TikTok addicted girls with their 15-step skin-care routine, running to Sephora to buy a retinol that inadvertently, as the BBC reports, leads to ‘irreversible skin problems as the British Association for Dermatologists have warned.’
As Jessica DeFino articulates, ‘when we prioritise looks, we give up so much’ as she cites research displayed in the Warwick Journal of Philosophy that highlights how young girls are socialised to place more ‘value [on] their appearance above health and education.’ DeFino further draws upon an article by Dazed that showed how beauty is valued even over friendship, leading her to conclude whilst beauty ‘improves some qualities of life’ it arguably ‘degrades others.’
While our focus on beauty affords us certain privileges, our pursuit of it then is arguably making us lonelier. In a Dazed article entitled ‘Is anyone having sex after their 12-step night time skincare routine?’, Serena Smith explores how the Gen Z sex recession is arguably tied to our prioritisation of ‘such unrealistic, inhuman ideals.’ In being conditioned to be so preoccupied by our appearance at all times, Smith identified how our rampant insecurities during sex results in ‘lower sexual satisfaction and less consistent orgasms.’ This is not to say the absence of sex is an inherent sign of being a lonely person, but it does shed light on the scale of insecurity that keeps us from being open to our loved ones, with so many of us feeling uncomfortable to display our bare skin, even going as far as sleeping with our make-up on overnight to feel presentable to our partners.
This is a lot to unpack in a single article where I have like three essays also splitting my attention as I’m writing this, but ultimately, I just want to raise to you: how much mental energy do you spend to look or feel beautiful, and is it worth the cost?
There are aspects of beauty culture that I know I will continue to participate in like wearing make-up, wearing nice outfits, and getting my hair cut professionally, because I know the social currency that will be afforded to me, not only on a professional stand point, but in forming connections in everyday life. Yet at what point do you we re-assess our dystopian fascination of beauty, a particular euro-centric elitist beauty, that has destroyed so many of our self-perceptions?
There are too many talented, intelligent and amazing women in my life that feel worthless at the onset of a new acne break-out, adding an extra pound, noticing wrinkles coming in, struggling with their strawberry legs, even feeling self-conscious of skin texture showing in their photos, and they deserve better.
Featured image: by Abigail Hughes