Published 20/4/20
Is my beauty routine empowering and a symbol
of my agency or am I a bad feminist?
Spoiler alert; I’ve invested too much time into studying YouTube Beauty Gurus to turn back
now.
By Chloe De Highden
I wore makeup for the first time at the ripe old age of 17. I know, a bit of a late bloomer considering
67% of girls start before the age of 15 (Britton 2012).
It was 2013. Julia Gillard was the PM (briefly), Mylie Cyrus was twerking on stage (also briefly) while I
was in year 11 and being plagued by acne. (Even after several rounds of Proactive I might add!)
When my high school formal rolled around, my mother, having not worn makeup since her wedding
day, pragmatically suggested we enlist the help of a professional to get my “face done”. (Her words.)
Having only ever worn a strawberry-scented Lip Smacker before, I begrudgingly moseyed up to the
local shopping centre where a very kind MAC artist valiantly took up the task to cover my myriad of
spots. They made me feel comfortable and rather than self-conscious of my “condition”. (More of
my mother’s words.)
When I rocked up at the dance later that night, I felt like a million bucks. After years of having a
spotty red face, it was smooth and even. I felt confident and beautiful.
Predictably, the makeup obsession ensued and was only exacerbated after high school when I put on
40kgs, making me feel the very opposite of beautiful. Even then, when my self-esteem was at an alltime low, it’s never become an everyday necessity for me. I am confident going to work, uni or
meeting up with friends without so much as a brush through my hair. However, there is a special
kind of thrill I get from donning a bright lilac eyeshadow or bold lip. Maybe it’s the garish colours
that pull me in, or maybe feeling spot-free is what puts a skip in my step and a smile on my face.
Either way, does spending hundreds of dollars and countless hours on my beauty routine make me a
bad feminist? Am I expressing my agency and my choice to participate in beauty practices? Or am I a
product of our patriarchal Western culture where my ‘choice’ comes from years of women being
told our value is rooted in our physical appearance?
The idea of agency, where a woman is acting independently and making their own choices, was
popularised in the 1990s (Jeffreys 2015). Many liberal feminists began pulling away from the idea
that femininity was something to be completely overhauled and instead something they were able
to consciously participate in. Naomi Wolf (1992), a popular feminist scholar, explored the idea of
Victim Feminism whereby some feminists portray women as lacking agency, fragile or weak and
thereby needing protection. Wolf instead promotes Power Feminism, acknowledging that women
are ‘fed up with the reminders of their own oppression’ and are ‘moved far more effectively by
appeals to our strength, resourcefulness and sense of responsibility’.
Linda Scott (2005) even went to far as to suggest that feminists taking an anti-beauty stance is “a
gesture of dominance” in and of itself.
The ideas of choice, power and consciousness are some that I connect with and this isn’t just
because I’ll find any excuse to not part with my Lisa Eldridge lipsticks. (Look her up and thank me
later). I feel as though I’ve been raised to feel powerful, capable and responsible. These ideas
embrace that.
However, as much as I want to completely buy into Scott’s (2005) idea that anti-beauty rhetoric is
some sort of moral grandstanding, I think the issue is more complicated than that.
Some feminists argue against the female agency as a reason to participate in beauty practises,
suggesting that oppression doesn’t need to be physical, it can be phycological (Bartky 1990). Allow
me to mansplain; all those proactive ads aimed at women, juxtaposing celebrities looking sad and
covered in acne against them after a month of their products with clear and glowing skin made us
think that we too should be sad unless we signed up for their clear skin bundle for the low low price
of $59.95!
This turns my choice to buy skincare or makeup to feel good, into me buying into the idea that I’m
less than due to my physical appearance.
On the flip side, nothing illustrates the stark difference between marketing to men vs woman than a
Lynx Deodorant ad. Enter a boy, who, after spraying a suffocating and asthma-inducing amount of
Lynx Africa become a magnet for bikini-clad women. The dream.
My little marketing caveat aside, studies show that women feel less than and objectified in the
workplace too. According to an Ipsos (2017) study, 55% of female respondents do not think that
men and women are treated equally in the workplace with 54% have been called ‘honey’ ‘sweetie’
or a similar term whilst at work. It’s clear that women are being objectified, so does wearing makeup
play into that? Or is it being used as a tool to get ahead?
Wolf (2005) suggests that ‘the more legal and material hindrances women have broken through, the
more strictly and heavily and cruelly images of female beauty have come to weigh upon us’. Jeffreys
(2014) extends on this by suggesting that women play into this weight or objectification to make
themselves smaller to ‘not threaten the men’ and instead pander to them.
On the flip side, some would argue that playing into these beauty ideals is an attempt to use
feminine wiles to get a leg up and get ahead. By becoming ‘thingified’ is that the ultimate powerplay
or again, the product of phycological oppression at its peak? (MacKinnon 1889)
James Brown said it best. “This is a man's world”.
The main focus thus far has been on makeup and skincare. However, many feel it’s a whole other
ball game when it comes to cosmetic surgery. Makeup is seen as temporary, artistic and pales in
comparison to cosmetic surgery which is permanent and often seen as a superficial. Kathy Davis
(1995) is a feminist scholar who investigated a group of women in the Netherlands who were
undergoing these procedures. Davis asserts that it’s often an overwhelmingly positive experience
whereby women can become ‘an embodies subject rather than an objectified body’. These women
are ‘renegotiating’ their relationship with their body and it’s a true act of agency.
By now, however, I’m sure you’ve noticed that the relationship between beauty and feminism is
riddled with dichotomy and many can’t see past the idea that rhinoplasty or breast augmentation is
again, women caving to patriarchal pressures.
Feminism as a movement is divisive. We can’t even agree on a definition. So should I let someone
else define whether or not I qualify as a good feminist based on if I wear lipstick or not? I’m going to
say no.
Maybe this is a cop-out and you could chalk this up as another win for the patriarchy. However,
maybe I’m just playing the long game. Fighting and arguing are exhausting and I’d rather conserve
my energy for causes which get my blood boiling (like lack of representation or pay equality) rather
than one that makes me feel guilty for wanting to cover up my blemishes.
No amount of rhetoric is going to make me thrown way my carefully curated beauty stash. (That
stuff’s expensive!!) It has however made me conscious of when I choose to wear makeup though.
While it’s never been an everyday necessity, it’s turned into almost a statement to not wear it. I now
derive a little thrill when I go to work on Saturday in florescent blue eyeshadow and rock up on
Sunday fresh-faced. I like keeping people on their toes.
I think Naomi Wolf (1992) articulated it best. “Does all this mean we can’t wear lipstick without
feeling guilty? On the contrary. In a world in which women have real choices, the choice we make
about our appearance will be taken at last for what they really are; no big deal”.