A growing backlash in digital media has targeted the rise of skincare. While each author makes distinct arguments, the common thread is that skincare represents yet another scheme or shackle women eagerly embrace to meet societal expectations.
My own dislike for these pieces may stem from an unexpected angle.
It feels peculiar to read an article warning that beauty product enthusiasm robs women of power when the author only considers a single (negative) motivation. Stranger still is delving into a piece about women losing agency to serums only to discover the writer never consulted actual women who genuinely love this topic about their reasons.
Why are outlets quick to interview literal Nazis yet refuse to ask beauty enthusiasts a few questions before presuming to explain their motivations?
I am far less worried about hyaluronic acid serums enslaving us to patriarchy than I am about the fact that writers routinely get pitches accepted that rest on the premise: 'Women, your interests are foolish, and let me tell you why — with little to no research.' The fact that women themselves often author these stories makes the wound deeper.
This isn't to claim skincare has been beneficial for every person who ever applied a layer. I can see how a routine born from workplace or marital pressure to maintain youthfulness could feel oppressive. That could indeed be a constraining, harmful force in a woman's life. Yet the real issue isn't brightening essence — it's deep-seated inequality that persists even if she throws away all ten, eight, or twelve steps.
Women have countless reasons for engaging with skincare, and the sole meaningful question is whether these products expand or shrink the breadth of her existence.
If a product relieves discomfort from dry or acne-prone skin, it likely enlarges her life's scope. If she spends hours each week joylessly applying layers to feel deserving of love, then yes, it may be shrinking that scope. The same three-step routine I perform because it soothes my skin without further significance could be a treasured self-care ritual for another, or a weight of anxiety for someone else.
The significance of beauty products differs among women, and the only way to escape one-dimensional narratives that strip us of agency far more than any sheet mask is to speak with actual users about their motivations. If eighteenth-century French printers' apprentices who tortured and killed cats earned a full (glorious) chapter exploring their reasons, surely journalists can send a few emails or join a Facebook group to ask questions. Surveying the landscape solely from one's own mind and then issuing universal decrees reminds me of my lazy tennis style: hanging back on the baseline and hitting hard, but without skill. If you believe women need an alarm, do the work and be ready to cover the whole court.
When Cheryl Wischhover asked to discuss beauty holy grails, I immediately opened my calendar, confident she would grasp what makes beauty one of the most dynamic, exasperating, and expanding fandoms today. I was not let down. Her piece, “The ‘best’ lipstick probably won’t change your life — but the search for it can,” explores the concept of holy grails and our collective pursuit of something transcendent, capturing the spirit that fuels a community I know and adore.
Let's hope 2019 brings more of this kind of journalism.
