‘Unaesthetic, Unsexy Products’ Could Be the Final Straw of Late-Stage Capitalism
Words: Sihaam Naik
Her words bled into my own personal mission: to find an oil cleanser to take my warpaint (makeup) off. I ventured off to a faraway land (my nearest Boots) to procure the elixir of life (Inkey List Oat Cleansing Balm) convinced that it would bring my village glory (clean my pores). Despite scrubbing for what seemed like an eternity, I only got a slimy residue that refused to wash off. Aghast with my foolishness, I cursed the Gods (the influencers who feature the product in their morning routines).
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Gone are the days of fun and inventive makeup - the experimental eyeshadow looks of 2020 inspired by the saturated hues of Euphoria. The creativity dissipated into clean girl products, such as minimalist skincare and makeup items, that encourage users to follow the 12-step routine of people they admire instead of using products that work for them and their needs. Did you know Nivea face cream is a dupe for the £2000 La Mer cream? Make sure it’s the French pharmacy one, and while you’re at it, a tub of Aquaphor could go head-to-head with the latest Rhode peptide treatment. On second thought - the swollen head of the tub could never slide into the Rhode lip case. The proverbial unsexy product meets sexy product to explode in a consumer dilemma: are we willing to compromise on unsexy old trusty Aquaphor by littering the bottom of our purses with expensive grainy lippies that will spew oil in a month? Rhode’s controversial tagline “one of everything really good” says a whole lot of nothing, yet speaks to the neutral minimal aesthetic that’s ruling our for you pages.
We haven’t even scraped the bottom of the makeup barrel when it comes to makeup expiry. Consider this: most foundations expire in 12 months, and lipsticks in 12-18 months. When we accumulate more than we can use, we're spending unnecessarily just to contribute to waste. It may seem obvious, but it’s worth reflecting on how much use you can actually get out of the seven blushes that have been sitting in your makeup pouches since high school. It might be time to retire the ABH ‘Modern Renaissance’ palette.
“What actually makes a product itself ‘ugly’, unsexy and more legitimate than its overly aestheticised counterparts?’
In The Politics of Beauty, Rose Weitz notes that women can’t revise their bodies until they “learn to read the cultural messages inscribed to them daily”. Faced with a constant barrage of information, self-diagnosis, and advertisements, it’s impossible to discern insecurity from genuine concern. This is exacerbated by how TikTok inundates us with lifestyle and beauty products: every single insecurity seems to be targeted by a product conveniently linked through TikTok shop. The public has reached a tipping point and deinfluencing - with a billion views on TikTok - is emerging as the new trend in response to the escalating cost of living crisis. The pressure to conform to these beauty standards is immense, and it's time we start questioning them.
We saw a resurgence of ‘ugly makeup’ in 2022 where bold statements were made using neon lippies and clumpy mascara. But let’s call it what it is: a rebranding of editorial makeup that came as an answer to Instagram Face and Clean Girl makeup trends. Applying this same concept then, what actually makes a product itself ‘ugly’, unsexy and more legitimate than its overly aestheticised counterparts?
The branding has to be simple enough to blend against the rows of pharmacy shelving. Skincare faves like Aquaphor and Cerave are medicinal white, blue and green with small fonts and a simple clean design. Clean girl aesthetic products are beige and neutral with minimal fonts. The difference between these two products lie in a pantone shade, font choice, and the ability to camouflage ingredients in a tiny sticker at the back.
Ironically, even when consumers limit their purchases to products that suit their skin type, tone, and makeup needs, they're still influenced by invisible marketing and anti-influencer culture. This irony underscores the need to be more discerning in our beauty choices: Buying five tubs of Cerave adds up to the same price as one five-in-one luxury beauty product purchase, if not more. Whether it’s unsexy, affordable products flying off the shelves at Superdrug or high-end ones being discounted on the Sephora website, we’re caught in a cycle of hyperconsumption, all in the name of beauty.