Words: Sophie Rowe (she/her)
As writer Ellen Atlanta puts it, you’re: ‘not ugly, just poor.’
In recent years, there has been a strong movement towards minimalism, peddled by “no-makeup” makeup looks and effortlessly chic fashion. Contrasting full-coverage faces and casual plastic surgery of the 2010s, today we are surrounded by the omnipresent influence of the “clean girl”. The rise of effortlessness and subtlety is often perceived as a progression towards female liberation, with the act of stripping back our makeup routines, and aiming for an authentic, clean image as a rejection of the dramatic standards of the past. Yet, rather than progress, what this actually signifies is something far more sinister. Aiming for undetectable, clean, and flawless beauty caters to a purity culture that is reminiscent of conservative and patriarchal ideals.
The social media sphere constantly presents us with faces and images that perpetuate this ideal. Those representing the beauty standard now offer discreetly executed perfection: a pilates-toned body, high cheekbones, clear skin, and recently dissolved filler replaced with a flawless facelift. What used to be an overt indicator of wealth, such as the expensive BBLs of the Kardashians, has now morphed into equally as expensive, yet far more subtle, surgeries. This facade of effortless yet manufactured beauty stirs up mystique around whether the bodies society idolises are real or not. Meanwhile, the consumer is left with a desire for an idealised fantasy of beauty, with the secrecy surrounding it making it feel just beyond our grasp.
This shift among the wealthy seems to be a response to filler and Botox becoming mainstream. With the average person now being almost as likely to have filler as any celebrity, how could they possibly distinguish themselves? The “clean girl” seeks to be above plastic surgery, which has risen in accessibility and popularity amongst the working class. Wealthy, white women will spend thousands creating an entirely unattainable image of so-called “natural” beauty. Class, then, is entrenched in beauty standards, setting out a clear hierarchy. As writer Ellen Atlanta puts it, you’re: ‘not ugly, just poor.’
Emphasis on “purity” and cleanliness also perpetuates the racism hidden within Western beauty standards. Praising subtle beauty is worryingly reminiscent of white supremacist rhetoric on the genetic superiority of the supposedly “pure” white race. This leaves consumers aspiring for an elusive level of beauty, rooted in deeply flawed ideals – an aspiration that is financially inaccessible, class-based, and rooted in racist beliefs that exclude and discriminate against people of colour. These standards, then, fundamentally divide women based on class and race: this unignorable impact is both deeply troubling and anti-feminist. By keeping up a facade that forcibly keeps many underprivileged, and by maintaining the mystery surrounding it, it remains profitable for those at the top of this hierarchy.
Profitability is a driving force in our obsession with subtlety. The more we feel the need to curate ourselves based on this standard, the more corporations can sell it to us. As Kish Lal writes for Dazed, businesses ‘repackage’ this artificial beauty as ‘authenticity’. This false ‘authenticity’, therefore, is an excuse to continue to perpetuate archaic patriarchal ideals, all for steady profit. This scheme is relentless: skincare, makeup, and wellness subscriptions all promise to give you “glass skin” and “pilates arms”. More than an image, this puts a full, “pure” lifestyle up for sale: a scam of promised beauty only achievable through plastic surgery and a team of hired professionals. I can’t help but feel that the elusive “clean” ideal signifies the suppression of female individuality. For women, individualism is foregone in favour of a common desire to embody the subtle, effortless beauty that meets society’s standards.
Uniformity, then, underlines what is considered fashionable in society. Women are encouraged to erase their identity in favour of unanimous purity, epitomising the contradictory requirements for female beauty, without any acknowledgement of how draining and relentless maintaining this image really is. The desire for this aesthetic highlights a society profiting from inequality, which exerts control over spheres of life it has no right to inhabit. Social media makes it impossible to shield our self-image from its influence. Above all, it demonstrates the deeply flawed online world where influencers idolise an unattainable beauty standard that fuels the fire of classism and racism.
At the heart of this development lies a mix of algorithmic compliance, gender performance, and glorification of whiteness, yet this is continually left unacknowledged. These controlling standards are inescapable, but with an awareness of the media’s false portrayals of effortlessness – demystifying the perfect faces and bodies on our screens – and a knowledge of who you truly are, the burden of an imbalanced society profiting from insecurity may weigh a little less heavily.
