The Beauty Arsenal

When I first saw the photo I remember feeling - of all things - pride. As though travelling with that many beauty products was not only just a charming quirk but that it somehow validated me. Now everyone could see the effort it took to look the way I did. I was 19, in South Africa and meeting my boyfriend’s mates for the first time so it was all systems go on the beauty front; self-tanner, blow dried hair, painted nails and a full face of makeup all day, every day. The picture only shows about half of what I had with me. I had no choice. There were people to impress and what was I if I wasn’t beautiful? If I didn’t look a certain way, what was left? Back then, sadly, my answer was – not much.

The word “vanity” is splashed around by commentators decrying the lengths that women will go to for their looks. In my case it wasn’t vanity that fed my addiction to beauty products. It was a lack of vanity. A crippling self-loathing and a chronic fear of living life without beauty and all the perks that come with it to prop me up. When you’re grappling with low self-esteem there’s no guarantee you’ll feel good about yourself on any given day. In fact, you probably won’t. But as long as you’re armed with a plethora of tubes, bottles and pots there’s always the prospect of fixing, improving, reapplying and smoothing over. Beauty products were my weapons in an ongoing war with myself.

I’m a lot better these days. I’m no longer afraid to leave the house without make up. Being in charge of three little people tends to put life into perspective. I look back with a lot of sadness and regret on the years I spent as a slave to my own beauty ideals and I suspect I’m not the only one.

Back in my day (I can say that because I’m in my 40’s) all that was available to the average young woman was makeup and we used it to look better for the people we encountered in real life. Now it’s not only cosmetics but wrinkle relaxers, fillers, lash extensions, hair extensions and ever more cutting edge skin treatments that compile the beauty arsenal wielded by younger and younger women. Not that any of it is considered necessary for something as mundane and inconsequential as real life. Oh, no. We craft and curate our looks for our other lives on social media; the only realm where appearance actually matters.

People who are considered beautiful have been revered throughout the ages. Many studies have found that they are rewarded with better jobs, higher pay and just generally held in higher regard by society. But it could be argued that at no other time in history has the reward system played out as overtly or as transparently as it does now. It’s there to see every time we check our socials. And we all take an active role in this age old custom of sanctifying the physically attractive by liking, following, sharing and emulating. The age of the influencer has laid bare one of the harsh realities of life; that beauty equals power.

I know that caring about how we look is a natural and normal part of life and that it requires some outlay of funds. But when you consider that self-criticism is inherent in the act of buying makeup and skin care – that is, for the marketing to work, you first have to believe that there is a problem to be fixed – for those prone to an unhealthy obsession with their appearance, no amount of buying is ever going to be enough. It’s a vicious cycle. As soon as one product fails to fill the gaping hole inside us we’re buying the next potential solution. And there are so many new and alluring potential solutions appearing on shelves and on our feeds all the time. I’ve calculated that, over the last 25 years, I’ve spent about 90 thousand dollars on beauty products. That’s more than enough for a deposit on a house. Shameful.

It's easy, in theory, to denounce this sort of spending. After all it is counterintuitive to female empowerment. But are women actually making changes in significant numbers? It would appear not. Maybe because the habit of placing beauty on a pedestal is one established at a young age and is therefore hard to break. It’s something that every mother with daughters needs to consider. Social media and friendship groups inform many of the choices that young girls make but so too does learnt behaviour. They are observing and absorbing more than we realise. Subconsciously taking in our traits, watching how we dress, how often we look in the mirror, how we react to our  reflection, when and why we wear make-up and style our hair. If we – unintentionally or not – give our daughters the impression that beauty equates to intrinsic female worth, they might lug that self-defeating belief around with them for the rest of their lives.

My ideas of beauty have changed so much since I toted that suitcase of products around South Africa as an insecure teen. Show me any woman who is kind, resilient, adventurous, fulfilled and self-assured and I guarantee she’ll be beautiful. If only I could have known that when I was younger. I don’t know how we can heal the scourge of negative self-image in this confronting time of filters, followers and Photoshop. Many good people are trying their best and making strides. But it’s a deeply entrenched problem and fresh setbacks are arising all the time. Maybe we each need to experience our own, “old photo” moment, like I did.

One thing I’m certain of, though, is that praising young girls for the way they look – as though it’s an achievement in itself and not just a lucky win in a genetic lottery – could rob them of a life time of peace.