It's the time of year where I babble on about things I want to tackle but most likely won't be able to. I reviewed last year's blog post ideas and out of the 30 topics I only managed to accomplish, let's see, 10. One-third of what I was aiming for. Sigh. As for exhibitions, I only did one and it wasn't all that cerebral. Anyway, no point in ruminating over what I should have done so here's a bit of an update.
In an effort to sort of narrow down the massive amount of exhibition ideas I have, I came up with a priority list of topics that might be doable in the 1-5 years (if the Museum is still in existence) and a secondary list for, well, I have no idea – eventually. I tweaked some of the descriptions as needed. Also, please keep in mind these are working titles. Hopefully I can think of better ones! Once again the husband came up with handy graphics.
Priority:
"Black and Blue: A History of Punk Makeup"
"Catch the Light: Glitter in Cosmetics from Ancient Times Through Today" – Aiming to have this up for holiday 2021, but it's a big one and I will need lots of help that I'm not sure I can get.
"The Life Aquatic: Mermaid Makeup" – I need to think of a better title soon because I want this to go up in June this year.
"Color History Through Cosmetics: Blue" – I decided to scrap the gold-themed exhibition in exchange for blue. I discovered so many fascinating things about blue makeup while pulling together some trivia on Instagram, there's definitely enough there for an exhibition.
"Ancient Allure: Egypt-Inspired Makeup and Beauty" - I did some polling on Twitter and Instagram and this one won as the next exhibition, so the tentative date is March 2021.
"Just Desserts: Sweet Tooth Revisited" – It might be good to revisit this on its 10-year anniversary in 2023.
"Aliengelic: Pat McGrath Retrospective" – Still a priority, but again, I will need lots of assistance and would strongly prefer having a makeup artist co-curate with me. Alternate title instead of Aliengelic: "The Mother of Modern Makeup".
"From Male Polish to Guyliner: A History of Men's Makeup" – I know that a new book on men's makeup will be released in June this year and it would be great to have the author as a co-curator.
"She's All That: Beauty in the '90s" – Oh, poor little neglected '90s makeup book and exhibition. You know I've been wanting to do a comprehensive exhibition and book since at least 2014, but just never seem to have the time. I do have the chapter outline but I think I need to make deadlines for each chapter and publish the drafts as blog posts, otherwise it's not getting done.
"Pandemic: Makeup in the Age of COVID-19" – Depressing but historically significant. I'll need to wait until the pandemic is safely behind us, but I am gathering bits of what will surely become history now.
"Ugly Makeup: A Revolution in Aesthetics" – I am so incredibly inspired by Makeup Brutalism and her other effort Ugly Makeup Revolution, I absolutely need to explore looks that completely shatter our notions of makeup's purpose. The exhibition would be a deep dive into how makeup is going beyond basic artistry and self-expression.
"Nothing to Hide: Makeup as Mask" – This was the other choice I included in the Twitter and Instagram polls. While respondents chose Egyptian-themed makeup over this one, the mask theme in makeup goes back centuries and would certainly make a rich topic, plus I could do a subsection on mask-wearing's effects on makeup in the pandemic.
Secondary list/things I'm not sure about:
"Queens: A History of Drag Makeup" – Amazing topic but overwhelming. Need much help!
"From Mods and Hippies to Supervixens and Grrrls: '60s and '90s Makeup in Dialogue" – In my opinion, cultural developments in both the late '60s and mid-1990s radically changed the beauty industry and gave birth to new ideas about how people view and wear makeup; there are many parallels between the two eras. I feel, however, that I'd need to do the '90s exhibition and book first so this would have to wait.
"Gilded Splendor: A History of Gold Makeup" – This is nice but the more I thought about it the more I didn't think it would be a priority.
"Design is a Good Idea: Innovations in Cosmetics Design and Packaging" - Another that I still like but not so much as to make it immediate.
"The Medium is the Message: Makeup as Art" – This will trace how makeup is marketed and conceived of as traditional art mediums, i.e painting and sculpture, and also how art history is incorporated into makeup advertising and collections. Consider it a comprehensive discussion of this post while working in canonical artists whose work has appeared on makeup packaging. My issue with it is that it's overwhelmingly white. The artists used in vintage ads such Lancome's are white and even collections today don't collaborate with many BIPOC artists, especially Black ones.
"Wanderlust: Travel-Inspired Beauty" - A rich topic and would be timely in light of the pandemic limiting travel for most, but honestly, I'm not that excited about it.
"By Any Other Name: The Rose in Makeup and Beauty" – I pitched this idea to the FIT Museum as a small add-on to their "Ravishing" exhibition. They weren't interested and now that the exhibition has passed I'm tabling it for now.
And now for blog posts!
MM Musings (2): FINALLY getting up the diversity and inclusion in museums post up this month after a year of working on it, and the other topic to tackle this year will be becoming a nonprofit organization.
MM Mailbag (2-3): Once again the MM mailbag overflowed in 2020 and most of the inquiries took a significant amount of time to research and answer. I'll see what might be feasible.
Brief histories (4-5): I still want to go ahead with histories of powder applicators, setting sprays and maybe colored mascara, color-changing cosmetics and how makeup language has evolved (for example, why we typically say "blush" now instead of "rouge" for cheek color.) The author of Cosmetics and Skin kindly suggested an article on copycats, i.e. how companies clearly ripped each other off and continue to do so today in terms of packaging, ad campaigns, etc. which is a great topic. I'm also interested in a history of Day of the Dead makeup.
Trends (1): Makeup brand merchandise and swag – another I didn't cover in 2020 as planned. I'm also very interested in the video game trend in makeup, but I'm hoping this amazing person writes about it instead!
Vintage (6): series of Dorothy Gray ads featuring portraits of well-to-do "society" ladies, '90s prom makeup, and wear-to-work makeup from the 1970s-90s, defunct '90s and early aughts brands (Benetton, Calvin Klein, Tommy Hilfiger, Nina Ricci and Inoui ID to start with), and a slew of other brand histories, especially Black-owned brands like La Jac and Rose Morgan. I'm also itching to write something about Black salespeople and customers in direct sales companies, i.e. Avon, Mary King by Watkins, Fuller, Artistry by Amway, etc. The company I hope to tackle this month if the objects I purchased on Ebay ever arrive will be Holiday Magic…the story is absolutely bonkers.
Artist collabs (5): As in 2020 I'm still trying to catch up on some of last year's holiday releases, including Fee Greening for Mikimoto and Cecilia Carlstedt and Morag Myerscough for Bobbi Brown. There are tons of others from previous years that I'm still thinking about, such as El Seed for MAC, Connor Tingley for NARS, the Shiseido Gallery compacts and lip balms, and a series on the artists whose work appears on Pat McGrath's packaging.
Book reviews (2): In the interest of saving time and also because my reviews tend to be badly written (even for me), I decided to do regular reviews only for some books and speed reviews of others, combining several books in a single post. Most of the ones I'm planning on are in the Beauty Library section of the website.
Dream Teams series (1-2): I did actually start this series last year, albeit without the mockups I had wanted to do. Stay tuned for more fantasy artist/makeup collabs. I especially want to focus on BIPOC artists and flesh out the idea I had back in 2016 for a Rrose Sélavy-themed collection.
Color Connections (5+): I returned to Color Connections last year but only once. They just take so much time. However, I've been toying with the idea of putting them as a dedicated series on Instagram separate from the Museum's regular account. That way it might make me accountable in terms of working on them more regularly.
Finally, there will be lots of other random things popping up, and I have so many people I want to talk to so I hope to nab some interviews and guest posts. 🙂
And here we have my book ideas. They're the same as last year. The first one is an alternate title for the '90s exhibition. The second one would basically be the accompanying catalogue for the Makeup as Art exhibition. I still want to do a coffee table book of pretty makeup, but my concern is that it won't be diverse.
Any of these topics interest you? Which ones would you like to read about/see first?
Despite my art history background and general love of art, I am less than eloquent when writing about it. Nevertheless I will continue soldiering forward with the Museum's Makeup as Muse series, the latest installment of which focuses on the work of Gina Beavers in honor of her recent show at Marianne Boesky Gallery. Beavers' practice encompasses a variety of themes, but it's her paintings of makeup tutorials that I'll be exploring. Since I'm both tired and lazy this will be more of a summary of her work rather than offering any fresh insight and I'll be quoting the artist extensively along with some writers who have covered her art, so most of this will not be my own words.
Born in Athens and raised in Europe, Beavers is fascinated by the excess and consumerism of both American culture and social media. "I don't know how to talk about this existence without talking about consumption, and so I think that's the element in consuming other people's images. That's where that's embedded. We have to start with consumption if we're going to talk about who we are. That's the bedrock—especially as an American," she says. The purchase of a smart phone in 2010 is when Beavers' work began focusing on social media. "[Pre-smart phone] I would see things in the world and paint them! Post-smartphone my attention and observation seemed to go into my phone, into looking at and participating in social media apps, and all of the things that would arise there…Historically, painters have drawn inspiration from their world, for me it's just that a lot of my world is virtual [now]."
But why makeup, and specifically, makeup tutorials? There seem to be two main themes running through the artist's focus on these online instructions, the first being the relationship between painting and makeup. Beavers explains: "When I started with these paintings I was really thinking that this painting is looking at you while it is painting itself. It’s drawing and painting: it has pencils, it has brushes, and it’s trying to make itself appealing to the viewer. It’s about that parallel between a painting and what you expect from it as well as desire and attraction. It’s also interesting because the terms that makeup artists use on social media are painting terms. The way they talk about brushes or pigments sounds like painters talking shop." Makeup application as traditional painting is a theme that goes back centuries, but Beavers's work represents a fresh take on it. As Ellen Blumenstein wrote in an essay for Wall Street International: "Elements such as brushes, lipsticks or fingers, which are intended to reassure the viewers of the videos of the imitability of the make-up procedures, here allude to the active role of the painting – which does not just stare or make eyes at the viewer, but rather seems to paint itself with the accessories depicted – literally building a bridge extending out from the image…Beavers divests [the image] of its natural quality and uses painting as an analytical tool. The viewer is no longer looking at photographic tableaus composed of freeze-frames taken from make-up tutorials, but rather paintings about make-up tutorials, which present the aesthetic and formal parameters of this particular class of images, which exist exclusively on the net." The conflation of makeup and painting can also be perceived as a rumination on authorship and original sources. Beavers is remaking tutorials, but the tutorials themselves originated with individual bloggers and YouTubers. And given the viral, democratic nature of the Internet, it's nearly impossible to tell who did a particular tutorial first and whether tutorials covering the same material – say, lip art depicting Van Gogh's "Starry Night" – are direct copies of one artist's work or merely the phenomenon of many people having the same idea and sharing it online. Sometimes the online audience cannot distinguish between authentic content and advertising; Beavers's "Burger Eye" (2015), for example, is actually not recreated from a tutorial at all but an Instagram ad for Burger King (and the makeup artist who was hired to create it remains, as far as I know, uncredited).
Another theme is fashioning one's self through makeup, and how that self is projected online in multiple ways. Beavers explains: "I am interested in the ways existing online is performative, and the tremendous lengths people go to in constructing their online selves. Meme-makers, face-painters, people who make their hair into sculptures, are really a frontier of a new creative world…It’s interesting, as make-up has gotten bigger and bigger, I’ve realized what an important role it plays in helping people construct a self, particularly in trans and drag communities. I don’t normally wear a lot of make-up myself, but I like the idea of the process of applying make-up standing in for the process of self-determination, the idea of ‘making yourself’."
As for the artist's process, it's a laborious one. Beavers regularly combs Instagram, YouTube and other online sources and saves thousands of images on her phone. She then narrows down to a few based on both composition and the story they're trying to tell. "I'm arrested by images that have interesting formal qualities, color, composition but also a compelling narrative. I really like when an image is saying something that leaves me unsure of how it will translate to painting, like whether the meaning will change in the context of the history of painting," she says. "I always felt drawn to photos that had an interesting composition, whether for its color or depth or organization. But in order for me to want to paint it, it also had to have interesting content, like the image was communicating some reality beyond its composition that I related to in my life or that I thought spoke in some interesting way about culture." The act of painting for Beavers is physically demanding as well: she needs to start several series at the same time and go back and forth between paintings to allow the layers to dry. They have to lay flat to dry so she often ends up painting on the floor, and her recent switch to an even heavier acrylic caused a bout of carpal tunnel syndrome.
But it's precisely the thick quality of the paint that return some of the tactile nature of makeup application. This is not accidental; Beavers intentionally uses this technique as way to remind us of makeup's various textures and to ensure her paintings resemble paintings rather than a photorealistic recreation of the digital screen. "The depth of certain elements in the background of images has taught me a lot about seeing. I think I have learned that I enjoy setting up problems to solve, that it isn't enough for me to simply render a photo realistically, that I have to build up the acrylic deeply in order to interfere with the rendering of something too realistically," she explains. Sharon Mizota, writing for the LA Times, says it best: "Skin, lashes and lips are textured with rough, caked-on brushstrokes that mimic and exaggerate wrinkles and gloppy mascara. This treatment gives the subjects back some of the clunky physicality that the camera and the digital screen strip away. Beavers’ paintings, in some measure, undo the gloss of the photographic image."
Beavers also uses foam to further build up certain sections so that they bulge out towards the viewer, representing the desire to connect to others online. "Much of what people do online is to try to create connection, to reach out and meet people or talk to people. That is what the surfaces of my painting do in a really literal way, they are reaching off the linen into the viewer’s space," she says. This sculptural quality also points to the reality of the online world – it's not quite "real life" but it's not imaginary either, occupying a space in between. Beavers expands on her painting style representing the online space: "It’s interesting because flatness often comes up with screens, and I think historically the screen might have been read like that, reflecting a more passive relationship. That has changed with the advent of engagement and social media. What’s behind our screen is a whole living, breathing world, one that gives as much as it takes. I mean it is certainly as 'real' as anything else. I see the dimension as a way to reflect that world and the ways that world is reaching out to make a connection. Another aspect is that once these works are finished, they end up circulating back in the same online world and now have this heightened dimensionality – they cast their own shadow. They’re not a real person, or burger, or whatever, but they’re not a photo of it either, they’re something in between."
Let's dig a little more into what all this means in terms of makeup, the beauty industry and social media. Beavers' work can be viewed as a simultaneous critique and celebration of all three. Sharon Mizota again: "[The tutorial paintings] also pointedly mimic the act of putting on makeup, reminding us that it is something like sedimentation, built up layer by layer. There is no effortless glamour here, only sticky accretion. That quality itself feels like an indictment — of the beauty industry, of restrictive gender roles. But an element of playfulness and admiration lives in Beavers’ work. They speak of makeup as a site of creativity and self-transformation, and Instagram and other social media sites as democratizing forces in the spread of culture. To be sure, social media may be the spur for increasingly outré acts, which are often a form of bragging, but why shouldn’t a hamburger eye be as popular as a smoky eye? In translating these photographs into something more physical, Beavers asks us to consider these questions and exposes the duality of the makeup industry: The same business that strives to make us insecure also enables us to reinvent ourselves, not just in the image of the beautiful as it’s already defined, but in images of our own devising."
This ambiguity is particularly apparent in Beavers's 2015 exhibition, entitled Ambitchous, which incorporated beauty Instagrammers and YouTubers' makeup renditions of Disney villains alongside "good" characters. Blumenstein explains: "So it isn’t protagonists with positive connotations which are favoured by the artist, but unmistakably ambivalent characters who could undoubtedly lay claim to the neologism ambitchous, which is the name given to the exhibition. Like the original image material, this portmanteau of ‘ambitious’ and ‘bitchy’ is taken from social media and its creative vernacular, and is used, depending on the context, either in a derogatory fashion – for example for women who will do absolutely anything to get what they want – or positively re-interpreted as an expression of female self-affirmation. Beavers also applies this playful and strategic complication of seemingly unambiguous contexts of meaning to the statements contained in her paintings. It remains utterly impossible to determine whether they are critically exaggerating the conformist and consumerist beauty ideals of neo-capitalism, or ascribing emancipatory potential to the conscious and confident use of make-up."
More recently, Beavers has been using her own face as a canvas and making her own photos of them her source material, furthering her exploration of the self. "Staring at yourself or your lips for hours is pretty jarring. But I like it, because it creates this whole other level of self,” she says.
This shift also points to another dichotomy in Beavers's work: in recreating famous works of art on her face, she is both critiquing art history's traditional canon and appreciating it, referring to them as a sort of fan art. "I think a lot of the works that I have made that reference art history—like whether it's Van Gogh or whoever it is—have a duality where I really respect the artist and I'm influenced by them, and at the same time I'm making it my own and poking a little fun. And so, a lot of these pieces originated with the idea of fan art. You'll find all sorts of Starry Night images online that people have painted or sculpted or painted on their body. It comes out of that. And I just started to reach a point where I was searching things like 'Franz Kline body art,' and I wasn’t finding that, so I had to make my own. Then it started to get a little bit geekier. I have a piece in the show where I am painting a Lee Bontecou on my cheek, that's a kind of art world geeky thing—you have to really love art to get it."
Ultimately, Beavers perceives the intersection of makeup and social media as a force for good. While the specter of misinformation is always lurking, YouTube tutorials and the like allow anyone with internet access to learn how to do a smoky eye or a flawlessly lined lip. "I think for a lot of people social media is kind of like the weather. We don't have a lot of control of it, it just is. It gives and it takes away. There's no doubt that it has connected people in ways that are great and productive, allowing people to find communities and organize activism, it can also be a huge distraction…I approach looking at images there pretty distantly, more as a neutral documentarian, and I come down on the side of seeing social media as an incredibly useful, democratic tool in a lot of ways," she concludes.
On the other side of social media, Beavers is interested on how content creators help disseminate the idea of makeup as representing something larger and more meaningful than traditional notions of beauty. "I was super fascinated with makeup and all of the kinds of costume makeup and things you can find online that go away from a traditional beauty makeup and go towards something really wild and cool…I also had certain paintings in [a 2016] show that were much more about costume makeup, that were going away from beauty. That’s the thing that gives me hope. When I go through makeup hashtags on Instagram, there will be ten or twenty beauty eye makeup images and then one that’s painted with horror makeup. There are women out there doing completely weird things, right next to alluring ones." In the pandemic age, as people's relationships with makeup are changing, "weird" makeup is actually becoming less strange. Beavers' emphasis on experimental makeup is more timely than ever. I also think she's documenting the gradual way makeup is breaking free of the gender binary. She says: "I mean with makeup, and the whole conversation around femininity and makeup—I think for a long time when I was making makeup images, there were people that just thought, 'Oh, that's not for me,' because it's about makeup, it's feminine. But it’s interesting, the culture is shifting. I just saw the other day that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez did a whole Instagram live where she was putting on her makeup and talking about how empowering makeup is for trans communities…some people see make-up as restrictive or frivolous, but drag performers show how it can be liberating and life-saving." Another point to consider in terms of gender is the close-up aspect of Beavers's paintings. With individual features (eyes, lips, nails) separated from the rest of the face and body and removed from their original context, they're neither masculine nor feminine, thereby reiterating that makeup is for any (or no) gender.
All I can say is, I love these paintings. Stylistically, they're right up my alley – big, colorful and mimicking makeup's tactile nature so much that I have a similar reaction to them as I do when seeing makeup testers in a store: I just want to dip my hands in them and smear them everywhere! I also enjoy the multiple themes and levels in her work. Beavers isn't commenting just on makeup in the digital age, but also self-representation online, shifting attitudes towards makeup's meaning, the relationship between painting and makeup, and Western art history.
What do you think of Beavers's paintings? If you like it I would highly recommend the monograph, which is lovely and fairly affordable at $40.
I’m doing the #Museum30 challenge on Twitter, and one of the recent prompts was “origin”. It got me thinking about the very first makeup museum. While I have no definitive answers, it seems the first cosmetics museum, at least in the U.S., dates back to the 1950s. And there were several others after that but before the Makeup Museum was established. So let’s take a quick peek into the origin of the makeup museum and the other spaces that have gone before (along with a a couple that came after).
In October of 1956 it was reported that the House of Cosmetics, a “cosmetics museum and gallery of fame as a historical repository and a tribute to the cosmetics industry”, would opening at the former Reed Company on Harrison Street in Newark, NY. It was financed and operated by Pitkin, a cosmetics manufacturer that distributed the Linda Lee line of cosmetics. Among other features, the museum would boast special sections for perfume, lipstick (“Lipstick Lane”) and powder (“Powder Puff Parade) , along with gigantic sculptures of a perfume bottle, lipstick and powder box on the roof that would light up at night. The collection consisted of objects donated from the public along with memorabilia from the Pitkin company archives. A perfume fountain at the entrance spouted a brand-new fragrance called Three Coins, created especially for the museum. Visitors would receive samples of the perfume.
House of Cosmetics Museum, Newark NY, December 1956
The odd thing about the House of Cosmetics is that it allegedly opened in December of 1956, but there is literally no mention of it after that. I could not for the life of me find any information on it following its grand opening, so I can only assume it wasn’t successful and quietly closed, perhaps because it was too commercial and focused mostly on Pitkin. The House of Cosmetics was not the vision of a passionate private collector, but that of the current president of Pitkin as a way to raise the company’s profile nationwide and celebrate the brand’s upcoming 50th anniversary in 1958. The space prominently featured current Pitkin products and it didn’t seem as though there were outside curators or historians involved, plus, only Pitkin employees served as tour guides. I know many argue that museums should be run like businesses, and it’s a conversation for another time, but I really do think that generally entrepreneurs should not be opening museums.
Fast forward to 1979* when the Pacific Cosmetics Museum, also known as the Museum of Cosmetics History, opened in Korea. While it was established by Pacific Chemicals founder Suh Seong Hwan as part of the company’s factory in Seoul, the collection reflects the passion and respect Hwan had for Korean cosmetics history.
With the help of museum director/curator Chun Wan-gil (Cheon Wan-kil), Hwan continued researching and building the collection, all the while becoming more interested in the cultural aspects of makeup rather than seeing them merely as a way to make money. Not only did Hwan support the museum, he funded research and publications related to Korean cosmetics history. According to AmorePacific biographer Han Mi-Ja, “Chun Wan-gil seemed truly to enjoy working for the museum. He poured all his energy and passion into helping Jangwon [Hwan] with it. As for Jangwon, he was amazed and thrilled to watch how the historic relics seemed to come to life after the hands of Chun Wan-gil touched them. With his guide, Jangwon was able to build his knowledge and awareness of the historic relics, and grew more committed to the cultural activities…Jangwon thought, learned, and discovered a lot while collecting historic relics, building a museum, and presenting the results of his devotion to the world. He was filled with a joy and sense of achievement, which were not the same as he had ever felt from his business.”
In 2009 the museum changed its name to Amorepacific Museum of Art (APMA) and showcases modern and contemporary art rather than cosmetics, although the website states that “it is an institution dedicated to the antiques and artifacts of cosmetics culture in Korea, as well as making a meaningful contribution to local community and education.” I really can’t tell whether makeup is actually on display there. Ditto for the Pola Museum – while it was established by a cosmetics company president in 1976 and has some makeup on display for specialexhibitions, I believe the museum focuses mostly on the founder’s personal art collection. So I don’t know if either of those really qualify as makeup museums now, but they were at least started that way.
Going back to the U.S., in 1984 the Max Factor Makeup Museum opened in Max Factor’s former studio at 1666 N. Highland Avenue in Hollywood, CA. Overseen by Bob Salvatore, a 23-year employee of Max Factor, the museum offered a veritable treasure trove of Max Factor objects and memorabilia. From then it’s not clear what exactly happened. Some articles state that the museum closed in 1992, some say 1996; I’m leaning towards 1996 as there are articles from 1995 advertising the museum at that location. In any case, a portion of the collection ended up at the Hollywood Entertainment Museum, which opened in October 1996 and was located at 7021 Hollywood Blvd. The collection remained there until 2004, when it landed at its original location, the old Max Factor studio. The famed Art Deco building had been turned into the Hollywood Museum in the summer of 2003. The Max Factor collection is still there so you can visit (well, maybe if the pandemic ever ends!)
During this time, Shiseido opened their corporate museum in Japan as a way to celebrate the company’s 120th anniversary in 1992. I’ve written about this one before so I won’t rehash it, but you can check out my post. A decade later, in 2002, an Alabama paper reported on the Avon Fan Club House of one Mira Dawson. Ms. Dawson was a top seller and avid collector of Avon memorabilia, even dressing like one of the company’s co-founders to greet visitors. She charged $2 for admission to her home, which functioned as the museum. Here’s to home-based museums!!
A year later, in November 2003 the Coreana Cosmetics Museum opened in Seoul. This was another one started by the company president; however, like the Pacific Cosmetics Museum, it seems to be far less profit-driven than the House of Cosmetics. The Coreana Cosmetics Museum showcases over 5,300 objects from all eras and seems to have curators and historians working there rather than relying on company salespeople. This tour from @travmagnet is fantastic!
Just a few years later, in 2006 the Beni Museum was established in Tokyo. I’ve posted about that previously too so I won’t go into it again, but you should really check it out as it’s fabulous. So that takes us to late 2007, when I registered the domain for the Makeup Museum. Interestingly, on Instagram I got to chatting with the previous owner of the domain! Oldschoolcosmetics had the idea of a makeup museum all the way back in the ’70s and registered the domain around 1995, but realized how difficult it was and ended up walking away from makeup entirely. Here’s what she had to say: “I first had the idea for a cosmetics museum in the 70s when I became really aware of makeup, brands and how quickly things disappeared from shelves. My dad had a museum background and my parents took me to museums on every vacation. I started to think seriously about it in the 90s and registered the domain then. There were no odd or new domains then, just .com, .org and .net. I don’t recall if I registered .com or .org or both, but definitely not .net. At the time there was a Max Factor exhibit in the LA area, and at least two active makeup schools there which specialized in special effects and Hollywood film work. I wasn’t as interested in that, but it became obvious that the industry was based in NY and LA, rent would be prohibitive, the industry giants could set up a museum faster than I could, would definitely do so after I started up, anything on display could be permanently ruined if there was a blackout or A/C malfunction, and the bulk of the work would be grant writing, networking and managerial. I abandoned the idea fairly quickly. Ignoring all other beauty like wigs, nails, skincare, fragrance, there was still too much for one building if you showed stage makeup, drag history, failed brands, etc. Back then there were less collabs, less brands, less releases a year, the world wide web was just starting and everything was still paper catalogs, in store displays, etc. Now a museum would have to cover cancel culture, influencers, indie brands, brand owners, many more foreign brands, etc. I used the domain for a private message board about makeup. I wanted to call it makeup mavens but someone had that name and a brand that used it. This was circa 1995? Eventually I got bored with the industry, the sheeple customers, products that disappointed, etc.”
So it was kind of a downer to hear, but that sort of brutal honesty is needed at times, plus it shows I’m not a total failure – it’s basically impossible to open a cosmetics museum without any investors or industry connections, or unless you’re independently wealthy. In any case, this person is enthusiastic about makeup again and supports the Makeup Museum. She has been extremely kind in talking with me about the challenges of opening a physical space and digitizing the collection, particularly as they relate to funding sources. She has given me quite a few excellent suggestions so hopefully I’ll be able to pursue them. Anyway, in August of 2008 I wrote my first blog post, so I usually consider that to be the Museum’s official birthday.
A little bit after the Makeup Museum was established, makeup artist René Koch opened his private collection of lipstick in Berlin to the public in 2009, naturally called the Lipstick Museum. This is still on my must-see list! Known as “Mr. Lipstick”, Koch was the head makeup artist for YSL for over 20 years and has amassed a spectacular collection of lipsticks and related memorabilia.
Finally, we have the London Cosmetics Museum, founded by makeup artist Xabier Celaya in 2015. Like the Makeup Museum, it’s an online-only pursuit for now. However, Xabier exhibits his collection at local universities, stores and cosmetology schools, and I’d be very surprised if he doesn’t have a public physical space shortly.
All of this goes to show there’s been an interest for many years in exhibiting and preserving makeup history and beauty culture. I certainly was not the first one to have the idea of a cosmetics museum, nor will I be the last – I know of several makeup artists who are actively trying to open their own spaces. However, if they follow in the footsteps of a certain other entity and claim to be the first, well, you know it’s a lie. 😉
I have so many other books I'd like to review but so little time, and this tome had been sadly collecting dust on my nightstand for ages, so here's a quick review for a quick read.* Lipstick: A Celebration of the World's Favorite Cosmetic by Jessica Pallingston was released in 1998, just a few months prior to Meg Cohen's Read My Lips: A Cultural History of Lipstick which I reviewed in 2015 and vowed to compare it to Pallingston's book shortly thereafter (in other words, I'm a mere 5 years overdue for that task. Sigh.) Anyway, I found the two books to be more or less the same in terms of content. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I think if you were looking for a basic history of lipstick you could choose one or the other and not feel like you're missing out.
The introduction left a bit to be desired, as it placed emphasis on lipstick as a tool to either "empower" women or lure men; there was no mention of playing with color as a means of self-expression. I also think, as I did with Cohen's intro, that the fetishization of lipstick and the overblown description of its alleged power were a bit much. Lipstick can be life-changing, yes, but proclamations like "Lipstick is a primal need" made me roll my eyes.
Like Cohen's book, the first chapter is a brief overview of the cultural significance of lipstick throughout history, starting with ancient times and ending with the 1990s. Not a bad summary, but since I've been doing this a long time there was little earth-shattering news. This isn't the author's fault, however, as the book was released over 20 years ago so this sort of information wasn't as ubiquitous as it is now. Containing the standard tidbits about ancient Greek prostitutes and the patriotic duty lipstick served during World War II, the chapter is a tidy summation of how lipstick was worn through the ages. But the section on the '90s penchant for brown lipstick nearly made my eyes pop out of my head, as I had never come across theories about why brown lipstick (and brown in general) was so popular. This will definitely inform my research for my '90s beauty history book!
Chapter 2 presents no fewer than 14 theories outlining why lipstick wields more impact than other cosmetics. I found them to be slightly lacking, as I believe the "lipstick as phallic object" or "painted lips mimicking sexual arousal" theories rather tired at this point, not to mention sexist. Ditto for the idea that children feel more protected if their mother leaves a lipstick print as they kiss them goodbye before school, lipstick application as oral fixation, or as a rite of passage for teenage girls. There was some truth to the theory about lipstick as a sort of armor or camouflage, but seeing no mention of how lipstick fits into the larger notion of makeup as a means of self-expression was disappointing. And I would have liked to see more about makeup's transformational power, but the only theory about lipstick as metamorphosis came in the form of fairy tales, i.e. one's wildest dreams come true through makeup and one will magically become "pretty" if they wear it: "When I put on lipstick I am as pretty as Cinderella" was one of the quotes included. (Why is the author quoting a literal 5 year-old?)
Chapter 3, appropriately titled Lipstick Freud, delves into pop psychology as Pallingston takes us through the various lipstick shapes that are the result of one's unique wear pattern (which obviously also depends on the shape of one's lips), along with what various application methods say about the user and something called lip reading. Much like astrology and palm reading, they're fun but not necessarily accurate or based on hard scientific data.
Chapter 4 was my favorite, as it provided a list of bite-sized anecdotes about lipstick as well as a lipstick-by-the-numbers section. I miss Allure's by-the-numbers feature tremendously and am dying to include something similar in exhibitions.
Chapter 5 gets into the nitty gritty of lipstick – the complete process of how it's produced and a lengthy list of ingredients, which is good information to have on hand. This chapter also includes sections on colors and names, both of which I believe warrant their own books. (There is actually an entire book on red lipstick, which I hope to review sometime this year.) You can definitely see how times have changed, since black and grey aren't mentioned at all and blue and green are discussed as having solely negative connotations of illness or death. These can be accurate, mind you, but as someone who has now fully embraced non-traditional lipstick colors (especially grey – I own no fewer than 9 shades), I found myself chuckling at the idea that blue or green lip colors used to be mostly associated with bad health. There are incredibly vibrant blue and green shades on the market these days – what could possibly be more a reminder of rebirth and growth than something like Menagerie's Juniper lipstick, for example, or capture the vitality of a hot summer day like MAC's Blue Bang? Anyway, while it was a nice read, it may have been good to include a section on different lipstick finishes and textures. But once again, this is really just part and parcel of this book being released in 1998, when liquid and glitter lipsticks weren't absolutely everywhere.
The naming section was notable for its inclusion of shade names from Renaissance England: apparently Beggar's Grey, Rat and Horseflesh were all listed as lipstick colors.
Chapter 6 gives some tips on how to navigate choosing and buying a lipstick in-store. With the advent of online shopping and swatches, this is largely obsolete and the advice itself was pretty basic. One unusual tip was to try swatching a lipstick on the inner wrist. I'm personally a fan of trying colors on fingertips since they are allegedly closer to your natural lip color, but if you want to find out how the color will look next to your overall facial skintone, the wrist is the place to swatch. Chapter 7 was more of the same, a list of lipstick application and color-coordination techniques that aren't anything you couldn't find online or in any beauty magazine.
Chapter 8 is probably the only chapter that is not in need of a major update, as it provides recipes for making your own lipstick that are still totally doable today. Even as technology and customization options evolve, there will always be a subset of the population who like to DIY their lipstick for various reasons – ingredient preferences, cost, or just because they like experimenting. Chapter 9 continued with recipes, but they were really intended more as a joke to show what people did throughout history to make lipstick. "From the medieval glamour guides, here's a recipe for making lipstick at home: Go outside. Get a root. Dry it. Pulverize it. Add some sheep fat and whiteners to get desired color. If you are upper class, go for a bright pink. If lower class, use a cheaper earth red. If you are having trouble being pale, and have the money to pay for it, get yourself bled. If you're alive during the Crusades, wait for the Crusaders to come back, as they'll bring some glamorous and exotic dyes, ointments and spices, and you'll be able to experience the makeup golden age of the Middle Ages." LOL.
Chapter 10 was a mishmash of suggestions for alternative uses of lipstick and a list of famous art history and pop culture lipstick moments. Most of the suggestions were good ideas, but some, like no. 21, made me cringe. Yikes.
But I did love all the artist references, for they included two I plan on writing about for Makeup as Muse (Rachel Lachowitz and Sylvie Fleury) and Claes Oldenburg's Lipstick (Ascending) on Caterpillar Tracks which I covered back in October. The final chapter (if you can even call it that, as it's only a page and a half) sings the praises of lipstick yet again, and honestly, probably wasn't necessary.
Overall, Lipstick is a nice book for those in need of a primer on lipstick, but if you're in the mood for something more academic or a thorough feminist analysis of lipstick, this is not it. As noted previously, if you're looking to purchase a book on lipstick history I would go with either this or Read My Lips, but I don't think both are necessary for a beauty library (unless you're like me, who obsessively hoards makeup books in addition to makeup itself). Lipstick has sound sources, although by now they are a bit dated and I believe are mostly the same as Cohen's. I will say that the advantage of Cohen's book over Pallington's is the inclusion of photos, which were non-existent in Lipstick. So it just depends on whether you want a glossier tome with more eye candy or one with less visual frills and more anecdotes, as the information in both is basically identical.
Have you read this one? I'm really hoping someone will write an updated cultural history of lipstick, as after reading this I think one is sorely needed.
*Another reason I chose to review this book first instead of the others I have planned is that I was recently interviewed by a journalist who is writing a brand spankin' new cultural history of lipstick, so hopefully in the next year or so we will have an updated version (and hopefully I will be quoted!) Stay tuned. 😉
I love when I get an inquiry to which I can actually give a solid response. A gentleman sent in this picture he had of an old lipstick and asked if I could identify it and provide any sense of its monetary value.
I recognized it immediately as one of the Revlon Couturines doll lipsticks released between 1961 and 1963. But which one? The only one I recognize off the top of my head is Liz Taylor as Cleopatra, since it's pretty obvious.
Fortunately the Revlon Couturines appear in Lips of Luxury (which I highly recommend for any beauty aficionado – check out my review here and in-person pics here.) According to the photos in the book it's not Marilyn Monroe.
Or Ava Gardner.
So it must be one of these ladies.
Aha! Looks like it's Jackie Kennedy (last one on the right.)
What's fascinating to me about the submitter's photo is that his doll appears to be wearing a little fur stole around her neck, whereas in the photo from the book she doesn't have one. As for the value, Revlon Couturines can fetch a pretty hefty price. Even though the photo is blurry, the one submitted to me looks to be in excellent condition. And given that she has a stole, which I'm assuming is original (the original Marilyn Monroe figurine has neckwear as well, which isn't shown in the picture in Lips of Luxury), that would probably increase the value. I think a fair asking price would be $150-$250. At the moment I don't even see any Jackie figurines for sale.
What do you think of these? This post reminds me that I really need to track down at least one for the Museum – I can't believe I don't own any. Another one (or 8) to add to the old wishlist.
Update, 2/6/2020: It only took 5.5 years, but I finally procured a few of these lovely ladies for the Museum!
I am sorry to say that I can confirm these are not cruelty-free. As a matter of fact, Revlon made it a point to highlight the "genuine" mink, fox and chinchilla used. How times have changed. I'm also wondering whether all the ones listed for sale over the years as having brown mink are actually fox fur, as indicated in the ad below. Then again, this was the only ad I saw that referenced fox fur, so maybe the brown ones are mink as well.
The white mink one is not in the best shape – there's a little bit of wear on the paint on her lips and discoloration around her "waist" – but she does have the original box. I'm suspecting the black mark is remnants of a belt, as shown here. (Apologies for changing the background in these photos but I was shooting across several days and was too lazy to retrieve the paper I had used originally.)
The chinchilla-clad lady, however, is basically new in the box. One hundred percent museum quality!
From what I was able to piece together from newspaper ads, the ones without animal fur were advertised as "mannequins" and originally released in 1961, while the chinchilla, fox and mink ones were referred to as "girls" and debuted during the holiday season of 1962. Both series fell under the Couturine name.
There were originally 12 designs, according to this ad. Of course, you paid a little more for the Mannequins with hats and jewelry.
Most of them were similar but had a few details switched up. This is especially true for the Girls series. For example, the brown mink/fox one I procured has the same color velvet at the bottom and one pair of rhinestones, but the one in Lips of Luxury has pink velvet and 4 rhinestones. The colors of the velvet and type of fur were also mixed and matched.
But one question remains. I'm wondering where Jean-Marie Martin Hattemberg, whose book Lips of Luxury I referenced earlier, retrieved his information. Obviously I don't think he just made up the idea that each Couturine was intended to be a replica of an actress or other famous woman. But I'm so curious to know how he came to that conclusion since I've never seen them advertised or referred to that way anywhere other than his book. Perhaps he knew someone at Revlon who designed them? Or maybe they were marketed differently outside of the U.S.? In any case, there's no mention of the chinchilla Couturine and several other of the original 12 dolls in Lips of Luxury, so I'm not sure who they're supposed to be. Hopefully one of these days I'll solve another makeup mystery. 😉
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I'm so very excited to announce the Makeup Museum's special exhibition in honor of Stila's 25th anniversary! I was too overwhelmed to do a full history of the brand, so I decided to just focus on the famous Stila girl illustrations. If you've been following me for a while you know that the Stila girls were sort of the gateway drug for my interest in collecting makeup and seeing cosmetics packaging as art. For such a milestone anniversary I knew I wanted to pay tribute to them, even though the year is almost over (thankfully – it's been miserable for a number of reasons), especially given that I've been itching to put together a special exhibition for them since at least 2016. I also wanted to try something totally new for the Museum in terms of exhibitions. Technically all of them are online, but instead of putting things on shelves and taking photos, I wanted it to have a more "real" online exhibition feel. I've been doing a lot of thinking the past year or so about how to improve the exhibitions even though I'm so limited in what I can do, and I was really inspired by the Kanebo Compact Museum website, and once the husband showed me Squarespace I was sold. Well that, and the fact that he kindly offered to design the entire exhibition site for me. ;) So I set up a domain there which, if this exhibition is well-received, will serve as the space for the Museum's special exhibitions going forward. The seasonal ones will remain here if I decide to keep going with them. Looking ahead, I think I'd rather focus on more specific topics than general seasonal trends. Not that I can delve too deeply into particular themes given the never-ending lack of resources, but I still want to at least try to do slightly more in-depth exhibitions even though they won't be exactly how I want them. I'm looking at them as a starting point for bigger things.
Enough of my blabbing about the basic stuff, I want to give some more details about the exhibition itself. It came together nicely, or at least, it was the one I worked most on with the possible exception of Sweet Tooth (still want to revisit that one!) I really wanted to get interviews with the key people behind the illustrations, so I put my crippling fear of rejection aside and boldly contacted Jeffrey Fulvimari (Stila's original illustrator), Caitlin Dinkins (illustrator during Stila's early aughts heyday) and Naoko Matsunaga (who took over for Dinkins in 2009). While I was disappointed at not hearing back from two of the three, if only one responded, I was glad it was Jeffrey since I've been following him for a while on Instagram and I love his approach to art and his personality. He is quite the character! It ended up giving me so much confidence I reached out to the grand poobah herself and my curatorship namesake, Jeanine Lobell. Yes, I actually DM'ed the founder of Stila on Instagram and asked if she'd be up for an interview. And…and…are you sitting down?? You really need to. Okay, now that you're sitting and won't have far to fall in case you faint, I can tell you that she agreed to do it!!
Not only that, she actually answered all of my interview questions!! You have no idea how ecstatic I was to finally be heard by a major industry figure. Took over a decade but I finally made contact with a big name! So that was most exciting, easily one of the most exciting things to happen in the Museum's 11-year history. And her answers were really good too, I've incorporated them throughout the exhibition so make sure to read through.
As for the items, I didn't take photos of everything in my collection because again, too overwhelming. The Museum has over 130 Stila items, nearly all of which feature the girls. I mean…
The photos I did take have purposely plain backgrounds because I wanted the emphasis to be on the illustrations. I tried to have a good mix of memorabilia and the makeup itself. I even had to iron a few items.
I also included a couple photos of things that I don't actually own but are important in getting a full picture (haha) of the illustrations. I'm pleased with how the sections are arranged, and I must thank my husband for organizing them so perfectly in addition to designing the whole site. I'm thinking of adding a section called Soundbites, a repository of quotes from the both the beauty community and general public telling me why they like the Stila girls or really anything related to the brand, so be sure to email me or comment here. I really wish I could have an app that would "Stila girl-ize" the user, i.e. you upload a picture of yourself and it would automatically generate a Stila girl style illustration of you, just like this. And of course, if the Museum occupied a physical space I'd definitely hire an artist to do live drawings at the exhibition opening – how fun would that be?
So that about wraps it up! Please take a look and tell me what you think of the new exhibition format!
No posts for this week and no Curator’s Corner today, but I’m pleased to announce that Ada Calhoun, one of the authors behind the awesome 90swoman.com blog, asked me to write a piece on 90s womanhood!! I was so honored. Naturally my thoughts went to makeup and 90s beauty trends. And also naturally, I was extremely long-winded so the piece was edited ever so slightly so as not to bore readers. However, I have no issue with boring my own readers (all 2 of them, ha), so here it is in its entirety. Enjoy! And do check out 90swoman.com, even if you’re not of that generation – it’s truly a fascinating look at the era. 🙂 Thanks again, Ada!
Matte brown lipstick. Heroin chic. White eye shadow. The grunge look. These were the major beauty trends of the 90s. And they’ve been earning the attention of the fashion and beauty world in the past year or so. In January 2010 Selfridges staged an in-store exhibition devoted to the 90s, complete with a vintage M.A.C. Cosmetics face chart showcasing their (at the time) wildly popular brown lip liner named, appropriately enough, Twig. Fashion and beauty bloggers have also been covering the revival of the decade’s trends. “Messy plaids, patchwork and the overall look of 90’s grunge is back for Fall 2010, and we aren’t just talking about the fashion. The beauty industry is taking its cue from the Courtney Love days of dark, red lipstick paired with overdone, smoky eye make-up…A disheveled plaid tee layered under a floral dress and dirty boots are the perfect balance with a dramatic ‘I don’t care’ make-up look,” wrote Jessica Ciarla at The Fashion Spot. Last summer beauty blog Lovelyish provided a nostalgic look at 90s makeup trends. This year, fashion blog Refinery29 reports that the “sleeper hit” of summer 2011 is 90s grunge lip color: “Even though summer is currently awash in happy, vivid corals and pinks, there’s another lip trend we’ve been tracking, too: A modern version of grunge-inspired lips. Mixing deep magenta-red with a little shimmer, they’re like the love child of a ’90s era Drew Barrymore and Married with Children‘s Kelly Bundy… pair your tribute-to-the-nineties lip with extra dark brows and matte skin. So angst-y!” Finally, retailer Urban Outfitters named Cher from 1995’s Clueless their latest beauty icon.
Fashion trends, and by extension, beauty trends, are cyclical – usually about 20 years after the initial phenomenon began, it becomes in vogue once again and is slightly updated. So it’s not surprising that the 90s are making a comeback now.
But the point I want to make isn’t that the 90s are back fashion and makeup-wise. Rather, I want to take a look at the transformation the beauty industry underwent in the 90s as a direct response to the new notions women had about makeup. In 1995, the L.A. Times quoted a beauty newsletter editor as saying, “The creativity the department stores had 10 years ago doesn’t exist today…the top five brands control 75% of the makeup business.” Something had to give to meet the beauty needs of the 90s woman, and it did.
Between the influence of “lipstick feminism”*, Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth, Riot Grrrl (and “girl power”, its co-opted, commercialized, mainstream offshoot made popular by the Spice Girls), and the smeared red lipstick of grunge poster child Courtney Love, more and more 90s women began wearing makeup not with the simplistic goal of looking pretty, but rather as a means of self-expression and empowerment. They also didn’t want to feel as though they were being brainwashed by cosmetic companies telling them that they wouldn’t be beautiful without makeup – wearing it had to be their decision alone, and they would wear it (or not) on their own terms. This outlook represented a huge shift in thinking about cosmetics, and beauty and business gurus pounced on it.
In 1994 makeup artist Jeannine Lobell created a makeup line called Stila. The name coming from the Italian word “stilare”, which means “to pen”, Lobell believed every woman’s makeup should be as unique as her signature. The cardboard containers (this environmentally-friendly packaging was a breakthrough at the time) also displayed quotes from famous women that could be seen as empowering: Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s “The best protection any woman can have is courage,” and “Failure is impossible” by Susan B. Anthony are just a few of the quotes that made an appearance on Stila’s eye shadows. These marketing strategies encouraged the idea that women could let their individuality shine through their makeup, and that it could even make them feel powerful.
1995 and 1996 saw the introduction of “alternative” makeup lines Hard Candy and Urban Decay, respectively. Both got their start by introducing non-traditional nail polish colors that the founders first mixed themselves – Sky, a pastel blue, in the case of Hard Candy, and a purple color from Urban Decay. And both were revolutionizing the beauty industry and filling in the gaps left by mainstream cosmetic companies by offering non-traditional hues. From the Urban Decay website: “Heaven forbid you wanted purple or green nails, because you’d either have to whip out a marker, or risk life and limb with that back alley drugstore junk…The first magazine ad [for Urban Decay] queried ‘Does Pink Make You Puke?,’ fueling the revolution as cosmetics industry executives scrambled to keep up.”
A 1998 New York Times profile of Hard Candy founder Dineh Mohajer, states that she was a leader in providing the modern teenage girl with the daring makeup she wanted to use to express herself. “Ms. Mohajer’s timing couldn’t have been better: young women were ready for hard-edged, ‘ugly’ colors, which were a departure from the powdery, harmless pinks that once accompanied every American girl’s journey to womanhood. Suddenly, blue lips, blue hair and blue fingernails became a statement about independence — even if independence might make you look as if you were suffering from frostbite.” Still, in the article Mohajer insists that ”I didn’t make that first batch of blue nail polish so I could stand up to men or be outrageous…or so I could make some sort of stand for women.” She continues: “[what] it’s really about is self-esteem, women being able to do whatever they want and look stylish and attractive and cute at the same time.” Mohajer, who was all of 22 when she founded Hard Candy, clearly represented the new way in which women were viewing makeup.
The decade culminated in the 1999 release of celebrity makeup artist Kevyn Aucoin’s iconic book Making Faces. The book offered details of makeovers performed on “real” women, and provided step-by-step instructions to create a myriad of looks. Women could essentially try on personalities like “The Diva” or “The Siren” through makeup. Aucoin writes in the introduction, “…it is my hope that you will find yourself, or rather, your selves inside.” His book was illustrative of the sweeping change that took hold in both the general population’s notion of cosmetics and the beauty industry.
Where does all of this leave us now? I’m of the opinion that if you asked teenagers and women today, most would say they don’t wear makeup for anyone but themselves. Personally I wear it because it makes me happy and because I think it’s fun to play with color, not because I feel as though I have put on my “face” before going out in public. While I can’t know for sure what other women think, I have a feeling most of my generation and younger generations share this perspective. That is one of the indisputable legacies of the 90s.
So, girls and women of today, bear in mind that your perception of cosmetics is in some way descended from ground-breaking beauty philosophies that were set in motion some 20 years ago. The notions that makeup can be a creative outlet and a way to express your individuality were forged back then. And if you’re a true 90s woman, relish the current comeback of makeup trends from your decade…everything except the matte brown lipstick.
*The debate between lipstick feminists and second-wave feminists is far too broad to discuss in this post. I’m leaving out the argument as to whether women should or shouldn’t be participating in beauty rituals; I’m only mentioning lipstick feminism as one of the many reasons for the change in women’s perception of wearing makeup in the 90s.
