Fenty Beauty, the brand founded by musician Rihanna in 2017, had possibly its most adventurous releases in 2022. In August that year the company launched a set of 6 packets containing a mystery substance produced by cheeky Brooklyn art collective MSCHF (which I hope to cover eventually), and in December, a $500 crystal-studded lipstick case to celebrate the brand’s 5th anniversary. While I’ve been using Fenty since its inception – the matte foundation, cheek stix, and lipsticks are excellent – it’s the limited-edition products with special packaging that go into the Makeup Museum. However, having skipped this year’s holiday lineup, a collab with video game-inspired animated series Arcane, today I’m looking back at 2022’s Navy collection. Illustrated by L.A.-based cartoonist Obi, the Navy set is a nod to the nickname for Rihanna’s fan base, which in turn comes from one of her song lyrics, 2009’s “G4L”: “We’re an army / Better yet, a navy / Better yet, crazy”
Before we delve into the set, let’s take a peek at the work of the artist behind it. First generation Nigerian-American Obi Arisukwu was born and raised in Houston, Texas. Strongly influenced by cartoons and superheroes, particularly the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, he began drawing at the age of 3. He earned a Bachelor’s degree in Visual Design and went on to become the lead graphic designer for ConocoPhillips, doing illustration on the side. After 4 years in the corporate world, however, he had enough. “When I was working at ConocoPhillips, I loved it at first. Then slowly and slowly, it became the same mundane pattern of going to work, being in a cubicle, and never being able to express my creativity. My talents weren’t being utilized the way they should have been. For instance, I was the head graphic designer there, but I was doing PowerPoint presentations. After a while it was kind of, “What am I here for? This is not really what I want to do. I really want to get into cartoons.’”
This was also a period of rapid growth for Instagram, where Obi would be inspired by other artists’ work as well as their ability to quickly cultivate large audiences. At the age of 30, he quit his job and moved back in with his parents to pursue illustration full-time. Obi acknowledges the first 6 months were difficult, as he had to learn to set up a business and earn clients, but ultimately his talent and perseverance paid off. “Living with my parents, they’re really great. They’ve always supported me and it’s like a really good Airbnb. It’s definitely tough because when you first quit and go on your own, you’re going to go through that period, that downfall, of where you’re not getting any business or no clientele because you’re still working on your service, still working on getting yourself out there. Then, for me, after like six months, I started getting a lot more projects. I really stopped doing graphic design work to focus more on illustrations. This is one of those things where you don’t give up.” Yay for supportive parents! (Side note: His mother’s only request was for Obi to buy her a Chanel bag after he had achieved success.)
In December 2017 Obi posted a comic strip loosely based on his life as a millennial. This proved enormously popular – it was the most engagement he had ever received on his Instagram posts – and he began posting a new comic each Friday. “The comic strip parodies real life situations like dating, friendships, politics, etc. Even though I’m the main character in the strips, I’ve taken on the role as the ‘every man’ so that the comic strips is relatable to everyone who reads it. [The strips were just the everyday things that we go through [as] millennials…Whatever it is and kind of making it to where people can just resonate,” he explains.
It’s a gentle humor that doesn’t stray into corny “dad joke” territory. I’m not too up to date on my comics and cartoons, but Obi’s work seems to be a breath of fresh air in an age of sarcastic, “edgy” or even offensive animated series (South Park, Family Guy) or the nonsensical (Aqua Teen Hunger Force and other Adult Swim programming). While I’m partial to the likes of Archer and Metalocalypse, I also appreciate Bob’s Burgers and Home Movies, or comics such as the Far Side. A light-hearted, softer type of humor is not a bad thing!
Obi continued with the comic but also drew Black pop cultural icons, athletes and other important figures. “There’s a lot of awesome things happening in the Black community, so I like to showcase that in my art,” he says. In 2018 Obi’s illustration of Childish Gambino from his “This Is America” video went viral, earning over 30,000 likes in 24 hours. Obi followed that up with another viral post featuring Will & Jaden Smith.
While these viral pieces may have led to the collaboration with Fenty and other opportunities, it was Obi’s “every man” comic that landed him his own animated series on HBO. The news was announced in early 2021, but it’s unclear as to when the show will actually debut. It will have the same vibe as his comic – a show about day-to-day life as a Black millennial man. Obi expands on his vision for the show as it pertains to race: “This cartoon is not just about me, it’s about society as a whole. It’s just kind of through the lens of a Black person. But it’s definitely a cartoon that everybody can watch…My biggest thing that I want to do when it comes to bringing diversity, especially with my Obi cartoon, is that I want to show the world that we live in as Black people, that’s not all about us getting shot by the police…we’re more than just victims all the time. I want to have four Black main characters who literally are just living life trying to make it in this world…OBI is the daily experiences we all can relate to, it’s just from the Black perspective. We always see us getting shot. We see slavery and racial injustice all the time. Sometimes we [Black people] need to escape from that. We’re more than the racial shit that happens to us. We have other things going on too. This cartoon will have moments where it does address being Black, but it’ll still have the comedy element to it. We’re more than our racial injustices…This show is about all the day-to-day, societal issues that go through as Black people that other races can relate to as well and laugh at with us.” This is a really important point that I think sometimes gets lost, especially in conversations regarding racial justice. Black people are more than their trauma and while it’s critical to acknowledge racism and work towards dismantling it, highlighting everyday life is also essential. Indeed, Obi rarely explores instances of racism, but when he does, it’s still done with the same humor.
(images from obiaris.com)
Now, time for the makeup! The Navy set consists of a zipped canvas bag, a refillable lipstick in a limited edition blue case, a navy blue eyeliner and a cute little mirror. The lipstick shade is MVP, a classic red. (As I didn’t want to break the seal on the refill I don’t have pictures of it, but hopefully the stock photo will show you how pretty it is.)
I spent a good hour searching for photos of Rihanna as she is shown on the set – one with her hair down, green patterned sunglasses perched on her forehead, and lots of jewelry – and the other depicting her with Bantu knots, a green fur coat, white tee and blue cargo pants. Then I watched Obi’s Instagram video about the set and realized that, being an artist, he used his imagination to create these images rather than blindly copying her actual outfits. As someone who does not have any sort of creative flair, it didn’t occur to me that this would be his process! Anyway, there are a few images of Rihanna that can be seen in the video.
(Images from elle.com, essence.com, pinterest.com, fashioncow.com, essence.com, people.com, justjared.com)
The collection was generally well-received, and the retail price of $58 for the set was quite reasonable given that it was adorned with original artwork and the practicality of the items included. Everyone can use a makeup bag, mirror, navy eyeliner and red lipstick, no?
However, some Instagrammers took issue with the depiction of Rihanna’s forehead. Between Fenty Beauty’s account and Obi’s, there were roughly 100 comments accusing Obi of making her forehead too large.
Normally I don’t address meritless criticism such as this – I try to “ignore the haters” as they say – but the reason I’m bringing this up is because I am massively confused. I think her forehead appears totally normal-sized. And while marketing teams sometimes slip up and let mistakes happen, even major ones, I would think that if it really was out of proportion the set wouldn’t have been allowed to be sold and Obi would have had to go back to the drawing board, literally. Beauty brands, particularly celebrity lines, fiercely protect the images of their founders and must show their them in the best possible light at all times.
This is just one of many things I’d like to chat with the artist about! I would have emailed Obi for an interview as he seems incredibly down to earth and approachable, but the week between Christmas and New Year’s isn’t really the best time to reach out to people, so in the end I decided not to. I am still wondering how the collab came about, what the process was like working with the company, if he got to meet or interact with Rihanna at all, and why he chose the images he did as inspiration when creating the artwork for the set. I’d also like to hear what’s happening with his HBO show as I am eager to watch it, and, of course, if he ever purchased a Chanel bag for his mom.
What do you think of Obi’s work and the Navy collection? I really enjoyed it and hope to see more collabs with Black artists. As I’ve pointed out, the cosmetics industry is seriously lagging behind in this regard. I do have one regret, which is not entering Obi’s giveaway contest – he provided signed sets to 5 lucky winners. Obviously I’d love to have a set personally signed by the artist. 😊
Sources
Emerald Pellot, “Cartoonist Obi Arisukwu Is Bringing His Dream Animated Series to Life,” In the Know, March 16, 2021.
Niko Rose, “Obi Arisukwu on His Creative Journey, Project with HBO Max,” Blavity, September 30, 2021.
Sofiya Ballin, “Meet the Nigerian American Cartoonist Animating the Biggest moments in Black Popular Culture,” Okay Africa, November 8, 2018.
“Check Out Obi Arisukwu’s Artwork,” Voyage Houston, July 11, 2018.
Obi Aris Interview, Mint Mag, February 14, 2020.
Joann Njeri, Interview with Obi Arisukwu x Naija Comm, March 19, 2023.
These last two links seemed to have disappeared from the internet, alas.
https://www.sheenmagazine.com/cartoonist-obi-arisukwu-talks-starting-over-success-and-finding-the-funny-in-between/ – Oct. 16, 2018
https://knoonline.com/the-cartoon-life/ – Sept. 16, 2018
It's roughly 6 months past the Makeup Museum's official anniversary back in August of 2023, but it's still technically the 15th year of the Museum's existence so I forged ahead with a small exhibition, the theme of which is the 15 most important objects in the current collection. I originally thought of doing my favorite objects, but let's face it, it would have just been all novelties, mermaids, artist collabs, and food-themed items. It was very hard to narrow down, as all the Museum's objects are important for one reason or another, but there is a good representation. All of them were chosen based on their historical, cultural or artistic significance. I was also sort of hoping it could serve as a prototype or precursor to a larger exhibition that would be expanded to include makeup styles and trends, along with other super important pieces that aren't yet in the Makeup Museum's collection – perhaps a global history of makeup in 100 objects? In any case, happy 15th to the little museum that could!
As with using electronic versions of the labels vs. taking photos of them attached to the shelves, I am puzzled as to why it took me 15 years to figure out it's much easier (and safer for the objects) to take photos when the pieces aren't on the shelves. I also figured I didn't need to re-take photos of objects that already have photos for blog posts or Instagram, so they all look a little different. Ah well. Here we go!
Top shelves, left to right.
Mother and Child painting by Gloria Garrett:
Urban Decay ad and eyeshadow:
LORAC Eye Candy set – you might remember this from the Museum's 2013 Sweet Tooth exhibition:
Revlon Futurama lipsticks:
Second row, left to right.
Beauty spots by Bauer & Black and Johnson & Johnson:
Off-White Paperwork Imprint Box…the box itself is absolutely ginormous so I just picked out a couple objects from it.
Lipstick tissues:
Kohl tube – this was a tricky one! I purchased it on eBay from a seller in India, but I suspect the lettering on the cap is Arabic, not Hindi, so I'm wondering if it really was made in India. I tried running it through Google Translate for images but the translation didn't make any sense. Update, 4/22/2024: Nadja, the brilliant genius behind the best art history podcast ever, kindly translated this! It is indeed Arabic and the word is simply "Arab". Also, there is an illustration of the exact same design on p. 144 of Jolanda Bos' Paint It Black: A Biography of Kohl Containers. That one is in the Musée du Quai Branly and has an accession date of 1982, so we know this design goes back at least to the early 1980s. The provenance for that one is listed as Jordan. All in all I'm guessing the fish-tail design is pretty common throughout the Middle East and India.
Third row, left to right:
Eihodo brush:
Helena Rubinstein Mascara-Matic:
Overton's face powders:
This was a bonus object – since there are 16 shelves I figured I'd throw it in. Behold, the palette that started it all, which also serves as a reminder to check out the Stila girls exhibition. 🙂
Plus, I had to show off the lovely card the husband made since it reflects all the support he's given me and the Museum since it started – he is a hugely important part of the Museum's history! It reads: "Happy 15th anniversary to MuM, Ms. Curator! You are an incredible visionary and academic with your big juicy brain. I love you very much and I'm so proud of you and all your accomplishments." Too sweet.
Bottom shelves, left to right.
NARS Andy Warhol collection:
I thought long and hard about including these very problematic objects. Ultimately they made it in, not despite their overt racism but because of it. The next installment of MM Musings is going to tackle how, or even if, the Makeup Museum should display these sorts of pieces.
Etude House x BT21 palette and lip tints:
Beauty Palette compact, one of my personal favorites. And I know I mentioned all the photos are different, but these are particularly special – as you might have noticed, they are done by a professional! The Beauty Palette was one of 10 objects selected for test shots with the photographer I've hired. Professional photos are a critical part of collection digitization, so consider this a little sneak peek of the process.
In addition to an exhibition, this post also includes an informal history of the Makeup Museum as told by me, the founder and curator. 🙂
Very infrequently I get asked about the impetus for starting the Makeup Museum, so I thought I'd expand a bit on how it began. As stated in the About section of the website, the Makeup Museum was first envisioned as a coffee table book in the early 2000s. It was to be devoted to pretty or uniquely designed contemporary makeup. But I originally became interested in makeup packaging a few years before, in October 1999, when I spotted a cute Stila girl palette at Nordstrom. From then on I began collecting as much as I could afford. Two other factors contributed to this interest in packaging: meeting my husband in 2000, a graphic designer who showed me that everyday objects could be works of art; and the rise of embossed powders and artist collaborations. Up until the early 2000s, embossing wasn't widely used, and if it was, it was fairly crude and not the elaborate designs that came to be. Blogs and forums like Makeupalley.com, whose users often commented that some piece of makeup or another was "too pretty to use", made me think that there should be someone preserving these objects as art, and I loved artist collabs – it's an affordable way of owning a piece of their work, or at least a reproduction. I thought pretty makeup would be a perfect idea for a coffee table book, but the idea of getting it published was overwhelming, and a friend of mine told me to start a blog instead as blogs were at their peak in 2005-2006. As I was mulling that idea over, another hit me like a bolt of lightning: why shouldn't makeup have its own museum? I wasn't even thinking about vastness and importance of makeup history, only the aesthetics of current makeup packaging, but I thought that alone was worthy enough of its own museum. Plus, there really wasn't any specialized museum just for cosmetics in the U.S. Sure, fashion and design museums had a few vintage pieces and there were perfume museums, but nothing only for makeup. I wanted people to look at makeup differently, to see it in a way they hadn't before – not as a mere commodity but mini works of wearable art. I also was dismayed (as I still am now) that the vast majority of folks didn't see makeup as being worthy of a museum. I made it my mission to change their minds.
You can't tell me this isn't art! These all feature the work of women artists.
There was also a personal angle. At the time, I was heartbroken over not getting into doctoral programs and feeling quite lost professionally. I'll spare the sad details, but for a lot of reasons I was not able to carry out the career plan I had in college, which was to be an art history professor or museum curator. My thinking was that if academia and museums didn't want me, I'd start my own thing and have some kind of outlet that wasn't the mind-numbing tedium of administrative work, a.k.a. my day job. Like running a marathon, the Makeup Museum was admittedly set up mostly out of spite, a big ole middle finger to all the rejection I had endured. And it would be a place to both feed my brain and promote the idea of a museum as something other than walls and a static bunch of objects behind glass. Perhaps it was the topic of my Master's thesis that subconsciously inspired me too. Starting a museum with no real experience or resources was very much in the rebellious, DIY punk spirit of Riot Grrrl.
Can't believe it's been 20 years!
In September 2007 I registered the domain for the Museum – only for the dot org, since at the time, it was basically unheard of to register multiple domains for the same company or organization. I wanted it to be very clear the Museum was intended as a nonprofit, not a business or any other sort of entity, so the dot com, dot net, etc. were not registered (a decision that would prove absolutely disastrous over 10 years later.) I then spent nearly a year teaching myself HTML in an attempt to create an online museum, only to surrender in the summer of 2008 and implement the earlier idea of a blog. The three main blogging platforms were WordPress, Typepad and Google Blogger. I made what is in hindsight another unfortunate decision to go with Typepad. While it has served decently over the years, it would have saved so much time and money if the blog had been hosted at WordPress!
Over time, I started understanding the importance of vintage pieces and makeup history more generally. While I enjoyed pulling together seasonal exhibitions featuring newer items, they were lacking in a lot of respects: they weren't very complex and left out quite a bit of important history. The Museum was receiving inquiries on vintage objects and I felt as though an organization focused on makeup had a responsibility to include these in its collection. Social media was eye-opening as well in that the Instagram photos with the most likes were of vintage objects. In terms of research, I noticed so many disciplines (especially art history, my first love – I still try to keep up with the developments within the field) were getting "de-colonized" or going "beyond the canon", and I thought, wouldn't it be great if the Museum could do the same for makeup? While fantastic resources on basic makeup history exist, there is a significant lack of material on lesser known topics, and it seems much of makeup's history hasn't been written yet. I wanted to fill in the gaps, to tell stories about makeup that haven't been told before. This feeling definitely aligned with the Museum's original mission, which was to encourage people think about makeup differently. From about 2012 through 2018 the Makeup Museum experienced a slow evolution from a hobby dedicated to showcasing the newest and prettiest makeup to a more serious endeavor, one that shares an alternative account of makeup history and tackles current topics not covered in-depth elsewhere – but without losing sight of makeup's playful side. During this time I moved the materials for another hobby, making beaded jewelry, from the living room to offsite storage to make room for the Museum's ever-growing collection. While I don't remember the year, I do recall thinking that it was somehow symbolic: the Makeup Museum was no longer another past-time like beading, but a much bigger goal to which I would need to devote literally all of my time outside of work. To execute the vision I had in my head, I needed to give up some other things in my life and make it the highest priority. I have no regrets or resentment; I made that decision willingly. But it was going to be a lot tougher than I anticipated.
Stratton mermaid compact with one of my handmade necklaces
A major turning point came during a life-changing 36 hours in March of 2019. Between approximately 11am on March 17 and 8:30pm March 18, my world basically imploded. Once again I will spare the details, but the rest of 2019 was easily the worst time of my life to date. I was at a crossroads: should I keep going with the Museum or do I throw in the towel? It was the first time I seriously considered packing up the Museum for good. But for reasons I still can't totally explain (outside of my own stubbornness and again, rage/spite) I decided to stay with it. And not only keep going, but make the Museum the best it can be despite all the obstacles and lack of resources.
Around 15 months after those fateful March days in 2019, the U.S. experienced a major racial reckoning. I realized the total lack of diversity and inclusiveness was not at all what I had envisioned for the Makeup Museum, and with that, I began researching ways to alleviate this massive blind spot as much as I could. I also began paying more attention to the other negative aspects of makeup and its history. I don't think I ever shied away from it, but I felt taking a deeper dive into the problematic side of both makeup and museums was critical to the Museum's mission of education and its new focus on helping to effect social change.
In the past 5 years the Makeup Museum became an official nonprofit organization, was awarded a grant, and registered its name as a trademark. And soon there will be a brand new website complete with a digitized collection. I also co-founded an international network for academics and researchers whose work centers on cosmetics. I like to think these achievements help prove the Museum's legitimacy to the naysayers and firmly establish makeup's place as a field of study. For the Makeup Museum specifically, they demonstrate the ability to go from an escapist fantasy and repository for pretty things to a hybrid organization that combines education and exhibitions with activism. My biggest hopes are for the Makeup Museum to re-conceptualize the traditional museum model and lead the way in new academic areas for cosmetics. Ultimately, I would love for the Museum to be a showcase for exhibitions and a soundly researched and comprehensive permanent collection, but also a gallery where makeup artists and other visual creatives can display their work, a research institute, a community center where people can engage in workshops and discussions about makeup, and a space for activism. I also dream of a "beauty pantry" of sorts, where people in need can come and take whatever they want. This post is long enough so I'll expand on these ideas later. 😉
If you're still reading, thank you for joining me on this journey through the Makeup Museum's evolution and I hope you enjoyed the 15th anniversary exhibition!
I had way too much fun at the traveling Museum of Failure pop-up, which is currently in Washington, D.C. until November 30. It's exactly what it sounds like: a monument to all the seemingly good ideas humans have had over the years that for one reason or another failed spectacularly. There wasn't too much information readily available – that required downloading the museum's app – and at times the scant label copy was presented far too flippantly for inventions that seriously injured or even killed people. Then there were the "inspirational" quotes from less than savory characters and a disproportionate amount of space devoted to debating whether Elon Musk is a genius (spoiler: he's not. But he is a fascist.) Despite these critiques I enjoyed the show. Plus, it inspired me to briefly discuss some of the biggest makeup fails of the modern era. While there are tons of failures across all beauty categories such as skincare, haircare, fragrance, bath and body products, etc., literally thousands of defunct brands, and a history of toxic ingredients that goes back to antiquity, I narrowed it down to just a handful of what I think are the most notable modern cosmetic fails. Here's the makeup edition of the Museum of Failure!
Kurlash Eyelash Curler
ca. 1923
It's fairly obvious why the first patented eyelash curler did not stick around long. Known as the "bear trap," Kurlash's instrument does not resemble anything one would want to get near their eyes. While it's actually not dangerous per se, as Lucy Jane Santos notes, the lack of cushioning meant an increased risk of tearing out the lashes, or at the very least resulted in a sharp right angle to the lashes instead of a soft upward curve. A new model was produced less than a year after the initial design and became the standard.
For more on Kurlash, also check out Cosmetics & Skin's excellent history.
Drug Detecting Nail Polish
2014-2018
In 2014 a group of 4 students from North Carolina State University proposed a nail polish that would change color upon detecting date rape drugs such as rohypnol in beverages. I'm not even sure where to start in terms of the many points on which this idea failed. The technology wasn't even available, yet the polish, named Undercover Colors, was touted as something that was ready to be put into production. It wasn't until 2018 the group ceded that the technology would not be available any time soon and presented instead the Sip Chip, a coin-sized disk that can detect certain drugs with 99.93% accuracy with just a couple drops of liquid. Still, the myth of the polish persists. Perhaps the biggest misstep is that, as usual, it placed the burden of prevention on the would-be victim. As a sort of epilogue to Undercover Colors, in 2022 a company named Esoes (pronounced S.O.S.) announced a drug detecting lipstick. Clearly undaunted by the backlash surrounding Undercover Colors, the company forged ahead with a liquid lipstick containing drug test strips hidden in the cap and equipped with a Bluetooth connection to call 911. Sigh.
Esoes lipstick in No Means No
(image from esoescosmetics.com)
Glamour Lips Lipstick Applicator
ca. 1940-50s
As we'll see later, lipstick, like mascara, is a fairly straightforward cosmetic to apply. A contraption like this applicator is exceedingly unnecessary and only complicates things. Users were instructed to put a coat of lipstick to the applicator – I'm guessing that was a rather messy process – and then press the applicator to the lips for a perfectly defined pout. I can't locate the one in the Museum's collection at the moment so here are photos from one on Etsy.
(images from etsy.com)
It's baffling that this company believed it could hoodwink women into thinking smearing lipstick on a piece of metal first was somehow easier than applying straight from the tube, or even using a lip pencil to line and/or a brush, especially as both lip pencils and brushes were readily available at the time. Heck, Tussy offered a product called the Stylip, a pen-like device which was obviously much less cumbersome to use. Then again, there is nothing businesses won't do if they think it'll make money.
Honorable mention: this (presumably) earlier version, which worked similarly.
Lipstick applicator tutorial, St. Louis Globe Democrat, June 8, 1941
Calvin Klein Cosmetics
1978-1985
2000-2003
2007-2009(?)
2012-2015(?)
Since the 1920s, nearly every fashion house expands into beauty at some point as a relatively low-effort additional revenue stream. While most fashion designers are able to maintain their grip on fragrances, many struggle to keep a color cosmetics line afloat. The popularity of both fashion and celebrity-fronted makeup lines exploded in the '70s and '80s and many of them, including Halston, Diane von Furstenberg and Ralph Lauren, did not survive. However, I want to highlight Calvin Klein cosmetics, whose failure is interesting because the company tried not once, not twice, not thrice, but FOUR times to sell a color cosmetics line.
Calvin Klein makeup,
Vogue, October 1979
Calvin Klein Eye Color Wash ad, 2001
Ck Calvin Klein Beauty, ca. 2007
(image from cosmostore.org)
CK One Calvin Klein Cosmetics ad, 2012
CK One Calvin Klein Cosmetics ad, 2012
(images from designscene.net)
It's a long and muddled saga for which I hope to give the details someday, but in a nutshell, it seems the repeated failures were largely due to poor management rather than bad products. The cosmetics arm was sold numerous times and had a revolving door of executives. Without stable leadership and a clear, consistent vision for marketing and distribution, it's virtually impossible for any brand to last. Maybe 5th time's the charm?
Lash Lure Eyelash and Eyebrow Dye
1933-1934
The story of Lash Lure is a rather gory one so consider yourself warned. In 1933 a company named the Cosmetic Manufacturing Co. released an lash and brow dye that contained paraphenylenediamine (PPD), a chemical that can cause acute allergic reactions when used around the eyes due to the skin being thinner in those areas. Between 1933 and 1934 the Journal of the American Medical Association reported the cases of 5 women who went blind after using Lash Lure and one more who developed abscesses after using the product, contracted a severe bacterial infection and subsequently died. In 1938 the Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act was finally passed, and the first product it removed from shelves was Lash Lure.
(image from the FDA on Flickr)
The FDA prohibited PPD from being used in cosmetics in the U.S., but it's still widely used in hair dyes; however, the risk of death is considerably lower than in the '30s. The scalp is thicker than the skin around the eyes and less prone to irritation, and if severe reactions like abscesses and infections did occur, there are treatments available. In the early 1930s allergy remedies and most antibiotics hadn't been invented. Having said that, PPD is derived from coal tar, which doesn't seem like a good thing to put near one's eyes in any case.
Automatic Lipsticks
1930s-2015(?)
In doing the research for the presentation I made for the Art Deco Society UK back in March of this year, I came across many fascinating so-called "automatic" lipsticks. They expressed the design proclivities of the time in that they were intended to be streamlined, cutting-edge devices that only took a fraction of a second to open for the busy modern woman. No need to use both hands turning a slow-moving swivel tube or one with a traditional cap – the new automatic lipstick was here to save the day!
I was hoping to get to an in-depth discussion of automatic lipsticks for National Lipstick Day back in July, but obviously that didn't happen. Maybe in 2024.
Anyway, I think there's a reason the swivel remains the most common lipstick mechanism. This is purely anecdotal based on the automatic lipsticks I've added to the Makeup Museum's collection, but they tend to get stuck easily. I noticed that vintage swivel lipsticks still work pretty well despite their age. The automatic ones, not so much; many of the ones available for sale are broken. Additionally, even when they do work as they should, they were really no quicker or easier – for the Coty Periscope and its copycats (Constance Bennett Flipstick and the So-Fis-Tik), for example, I found two hands were still necessary.
Vibrating Mascaras
2008-2009
Vibrating mascara wands existed at least as far back as 2005, but it was around 2008 that the major cosmetic companies began taking the gadget mainstream. Estée Lauder's Turbo Lash was introduced in July 2008, followed by Lancome's Oscillation (with 7,000 "micro-oscillations per second") that fall. Maybelline's Pulse Perfection arrived in spring 2009. Unlike, say, an electric toothbrush, which actually can help ensure a more thorough cleaning, most reviewers agreed that a vibrating mascara does not significantly improve application. It also seems users had to learn how to maneuver the wand carefully so as not to poke their eye or create a mess. As one PR exec explained, "[The customer] needs to understand how to use it." Some makeup techniques are worth putting the effort into figuring out, but mascara application should not require a learning curve – like lipstick, a basic level of application is intuitive. As I predicted, vibrating mascaras were indeed a flash in the pan.
Honorable mentions: Bourjois and Dior 360 Mascaras (2011), which rotated instead of vibrated, and MAC Rollerwheel eyeliner, a.k.a. the "pizza cutter" liner.
Revlon Eye Makeup Glasses
1966-1973
My appreciable nearsightedness greatly impedes my ability to apply makeup – a big reason for switching to contacts 30 years ago. Back in the 1960s, however, contacts were not as commonplace. So what was the gal with glasses to do? Enter Revlon's flip-up magnifying glasses, which were intended specifically for wearing during makeup application. Rest assured I have tried them out, along with magnifying mirrors and such, and nothing works quite like getting about 1-2 inches away from a regular mirror and applying with short-handled brushes and mini-sized pencils (regular sized products prevent you from getting close enough to see what you're doing as the handles keep poking the mirror.) Other companies make similar versions of these glasses today, so I guess maybe they're not a total fail, but trust me when I say there are much more efficient ways for nearsighted folks to apply makeup.
Lipstick Tissues
1930s-1960s
You can check out my post from 2017 for the full scoop on lipstick tissues, but suffice it to say they failed because they were largely useless. To pull in more dollars, in 1937 Kleenex, building on previous patents, invented a solution to a completely fictional problem: the social crime of leaving lipstick traces on linens and towels, or heaven forbid, a woman's (male) significant other. As I noted in my post, there was no reason why one couldn't use regular facial blotting sheets for lipstick as they work just as well – separate lipstick tissues were wholly unnecessary.
I'm a bit hypocritical, however, since I think it might be fun to bring them back. I even had the husband make a little mockup of Makeup Museum branded lipstick tissues. Would you buy these if you saw them in the museum's gift shop?
Honorable mention: Not makeup, but cigarettes with a red tip so as to disguise any lipstick smears.
The Estée Edit
2016
With much fanfare, in 2016 Estee Lauder unveiled a diffusion line targeted at the Millennial generation. Despite an extensive campaign starring the hugely influential Kendall Jenner and a whole brick-and-mortar store in London, the Estée Edit folded roughly a year after its initial launch.
So what went wrong? The official stance was that the Edit didn't sell because Estee Lauder already had Millennials buying their products, so a separate line wasn't necessary: "Estée Lauder created The Estée Edit collection for Sephora to recruit millennial consumers. Simultaneous efforts by the core Estée Lauder brand have recruited millennials via digital and makeup at an unprecedented rate. Therefore, after a year of valuable insights and learnings, we have decided that a separate brand in North America dedicated to recruiting millennials is no longer necessary."
(image from globalcosmeticsnews.com)
Sounds like Estee was just trying to save face. What really happened is that customers saw through their pathetic attempt at being "edgy" to court a younger demographic. Frankly, the Edit reeked of desperation to revamp Estee Lauder as a youth-oriented brand, and customers could smell it a mile away. Devoid of any real innovation or inspiration, the Edit was also out of touch with the needs and wants of Millennials – the whole shebang was basically this classic scene from 30 Rock.
Lipstick Matches
1920s-1950s
As the makeup industry grew exponentially in the early 1920s, companies explored many different designs and packaging. The Parisian firm Fracy introduced "allumettes" lipstick matches around 1924. These single-use items were advertised as being more sanitary than regular tube lipsticks and portable due to their miniature stature. And, like lipstick tissues, they made great hostess gifts or customer freebies for businesses. But were they superior to regular lipsticks? Probably not. Water or saliva was needed to get the dry pigment to adhere so the formula probably wasn't the most comfortable, and the packs sold without a fancy mirrored case negated the "on-the-go" aspect. (I don't know about you, but I find it impossible to apply lip color without a mirror.)
Fracy salesperson kit with sample lipstick matchbooks, ca. late 1920s-early '30s
By the 1950s, companies shifted to advertising lipstick matches not as more sanitary, but a fun way to try new lipstick shades without committing to a full tube.
Still, mini versions of products with the same or similar packaging as their full-sized counterparts proved much more popular for sampling makeup, and they were easier to produce. With all angles of promoting matchbook makeup as better than other designs exhausted, it quietly faded from the market.
Mainstream Men's Makeup Brands
ca. 2000-2008
I'm not going into a whole history of men's makeup here – it's another topic the Makeup Museum will tackle eventually – but I did want to highlight the failure of men's makeup to become as ubiquitous as that for women. Makeup has been worn by all genders for millennia, but you would never know it looking at most 20th century cosmetics. Makeup was advertised as being strictly the domain of women. While it was acceptable for men to wear makeup for the stage and screen, it was largely frowned upon for the average cis-het man. Cosmetic companies managed to profit from men by introducing toiletries such as after-shave, hair gel and cologne and developed entire grooming brands exclusively for men, but color cosmetics were still a no-go. However, much like makeup for Black customers, some of the larger companies launched men's makeup to tap into what they thought could be an additional cash cow. For the most part, unlike other grooming products, big brands' attempts at makeup for men consistently failed. It's not clear when the first men's makeup brand on the commercial market was introduced; there were some individual products such as concealers to cover beard stubble and "after-shave talc" used as face powder as far back as the 1930s, and some brands added one-off men's makeup items to their regular lines – for example, Aramis Bronzing Stick and Mary Quant's Colouring Box in the '70s and Guerlain's Terracotta Pour Homme in the '80s. And there were companies like Biba and Manic Panic and later, MAC, that intended their products to be genderless.
But it seems the first complete lines of makeup for men by a mainstream, non-niche company did not appear until the 2000s in the U.S.* And neither of these are still around. Aramis released Surface in 2000, which contained "correctors" (concealers), a bronzing gel and mattifying gel, followed by Jean Paul Gaultier's Le Male Tout Beau in 2003. Tout Beau was discontinued and relaunched as Monsieur in 2008.
Gaultier Le Male Tout Beau lip balm and concealer/eyeliner pen
Indie brands that were started around the same time such as 4Voo somehow managed to outlast their big league competitors. With so many more resources than small companies, why did Aramis and Le Male/Monsieur fail? I think the industry shot itself in the foot, so to speak. Perhaps if it hadn't spent roughly 100 years and billions of dollars enforcing makeup usage along a rigid binary and making it socially acceptable only for women, more mainstream brands for men would be successful. The modern industry really entrenched the ancient notion of everyday makeup as solely a feminine pursuit, and it's going to take a long time to undo that sort of brainwashing on a mass scale.
So that's just the tip of the makeup failure iceberg. These were interesting, but it's equally fascinating to see what has actually stuck around.
What do you think? And did you ever experience a makeup fail?
*Japan's Kose had introduced a line in Tokyo in 1985, and this hunky gentleman prepared to launch a small brand in 1993, which never came to fruition. Other niche brands included Male Man Unlimited (1980), Marcos for Men (1996), Menaji (1997) and Hard Candy's short-lived nail polish line for men called Candy Man (1997).
(image from soundingsonline.com)
I was doing some digging on Ultra Sheen cosmetics after purchasing a great vintage display for it and stumbled across the name Bill Pinkney, who had a brief stint as a marketing executive for the company. As it turns out, Captain William Pinkney is the first Black man to circumnavigate the globe solo via the five Great Capes. While this is an astonishing feat that very people have accomplished, obviously I'm more interested in how he shaped Black makeup history – specifically, his significant contributions during the late '60s and '70s, one of the eras that witnessed an explosive growth of brands for Black customers. (Another era would be the early-mid '90s, a history I'm still working on.)
Pinkney was born on September 15, 1935 in Chicago. He joined the Navy after high school and discovered sailing while visiting Puerto Rico after being discharged in 1959. He held a variety of jobs during this time, including elevator mechanic, limbo dancer (!) and X-ray technician. As much as he understood the importance of a steady job, boredom crept in.
(image from yachtingmonthly.com)
Around 1963, he began pondering what he could do as a creative outlet that would also pay the bills. Pinkney's friends suggested makeup artistry. In his own words: "Since 1963 I had been working as an X-ray technician at Queens General Hospital. Although it paid well, it was hardly creative, and the creative impulses of my youth were resurfacing: I also longed to sail. As much as I wanted to be an artist, I was following my family's advice to have a good, steady job. Keeping that in mind, I began to look at my possibilities. I still had time left on my G.J. Bill and I wanted to find a job that would be creative yet practical. In the Village one night, I expressed my dilemma to some of my old friends in fashion photography. They unanimously agreed that I should become a makeup artist! I laughed at first – me, a make-up artist? Bur they insisted that it was creative and quite lucrative. If I did well at it, I could also make connections with celebrities. So I decided to take a stab at the beauty industry."
(image from nytimes.com)
Pinkney attended Queens Beauty Institute during the day and continued working as an X-ray technician at night. After passing the New York state exam to become a licensed cosmetologist, he began practicing makeup on any willing participants (mostly friends and family.) Looking to break into film and TV makeup, he found a job for a non-union picture. While it didn't pay much, he was promised both extensive experience and a credit as makeup artist. Pinkney was a bit taken aback when he got to the set and discovered the, ahem, particular type of movie he would be doing the makeup for. "[The job] was in film, all right – soft core skin flicks. The films were shot in black and white, and the make-up wasn't critical, but I got a chance to experiment. I mostly covered blemishes and scars and attached false mustaches and sideburns, which were in vogue at the time. The first film showed in Times Square, and while it was hardly pornographic by today's standards, a group of my friends furtively crept in, wearing turned up collars, hats pulled down over their eyes, and sunglasses. They roundly applauded the credits when my name came up."
(images from imdb.com)
The first TV commercial Pinkney worked on was for the American Tuberculosis Association. Upon realizing he had no suitable makeup on hand to match one of the actresses, he chose to let her go with the makeup she was wearing. "A Black woman came in and I didn't know how to make her up. There were no products with which to make her up. Luckily, she had makeup on already, so I didn't touch it. I just said, 'Beautful makeup, luv.' I was lying, but what could I do? Right then, I realized the need for a color-oriented cosmetics line." The fact that even a Black makeup artist struggled to make up a Black actress demonstrated that the cosmetics geared towards Black customers that existed in the mid 1960s (Posner, Overton's, etc.) were still not meeting their needs, nor was much advice offered in beauty guides. He noted that Max Factor's darkest shade at the time was "meant to make whites look like Blacks," a statement that is backed up by the origin story for Max Factor's Egyptian shade. Pinkney made it his mission to learn about makeup for those with deep complexions, which, as we'll see, proved to be the thing that allowed him to realize his sailing dreams. "If I learned anything that day, it was that I knew very little about makeup. Undaunted, I made it a point to study make-up for Black women, a decision that would eventually serve to get me into the business on a big scale." He joined the National Association of Broadcast Employees and Television union and had more than 150 films and commercials under his belt by 1969. At this time he began working for Astarté, a brand by the very short-lived Spectrum Cosmetics. While he initially got into makeup as a creative outlet, by 1970 Pinkney's outlook shifted towards makeup being more "psychological" than artistic: "Makeup is fascinating because you're working with psychology rather than art…if anyone tries to define beauty, he's opening a can of worms. It's an indescribable thing. It's really a feeling within the individual…ideally, I want to make a woman see how she really is inside – I want to relate to her, to feel what's behind the surface. I'd say I do that kind of makeup job one out of every 50 times. But I shoot for it every time."
There will be a full history of Astarté and its place among the proliferation of Black-focused makeup brands of the time shortly, but for now, some basics: Astarté was a higher-end line catering to the "ethnic" customer and sold in department stores. While the emphasis was on providing quality makeup for women of color, there was a range of foundation shades available – 22, to be exact – that were meant to match every skintone. Twenty-two shades seems like a paltry amount these days, but back then this was a big assortment. Not only that, Astarté organized its foundations from darkest (Nuit) to lightest (Aurore), which, to this day, is still the opposite of how most brands arrange their shades. The brand was also intended to "highlight [the] natural beauty" of Black women in keeping with the "Black is Beautiful" spirit of the late 1960s and early '70s. As noted previously, the vast majority of cosmetics, including non-complexion products like lipstick and eyeshadow, were formulated for white customers and tended to look either completely unnatural or at the very least, unflattering on non-white women. According to Pat Evans, the model who starred in the campaign, most makeup "turned Black women's mouths into neon signs, turned their skin ashen, made their eyes recede."
Pinkney served as Astarté's National Director of Makeup, crisscrossing the U.S. to train salespeople and provide consultations and makeovers at counters. It's a bit of a chicken and egg scenario in terms of Astarte's focus and Pinkney's approach towards makeup – was Astarté influenced by Pinkney's natural aesthetic or vice versa? A 1970 article featuring a makeover of a Detroit resident presented Pinkney as a champion of understated cosmetics. "'A good makeup means nothing about it is obvious. It's a group of subtleties which combine to make you,' he stressed. For this reason he's against shadowing the face to change features such as making the nose seem longer or the lips seem narrower. 'It just won't work except for a model who's being photographed in controlled lighting. Women are seen in many different lighting situations and shadowing just makes them look phony,' he went on." The article continues with more of Pinkney's tips for no-makeup makeup, including using a powder brush rather than a puff for a seamless finish.
(image from nytimes.com)
It's not clear when Pinkney's relationship with Astarté ended, but Spectrum filed for bankruptcy in 1971. Pinkney continued working as a makeup artist, doing magazine editorials such as this spread in Essence. By this time he was also sailing as much as he could.
Incidentally, the products used here were from Ultra-Sheen.
In 1973, "Revlon made me an offer I couldn't refuse," Pinkney said. The company hired him to oversee the marketing for the new line they were planning for Black customers called Polished Ambers. It doesn't seem as though Pinkney was involved in creating the extensive advertising campaign, but he was responsible for ensuring Polished Ambers was well-represented in the media and stores across the U.S. Most importantly, he was Revlon's first Black marketing executive. Polished Ambers hit shelves in early 1975.
Pinkney used his knowledge and experience with Astarté to promote the Polished Ambers line. Echoing the comments of Pat Evans from some 5 years prior, he noted that Revlon carefully formulated the Polished Ambers lipsticks and eyeshadows to avoid the usual pitfalls of products made for deep skintones. According to one article, "Pinkney claims frosted lipsticks need a special formulation for Blacks because the ones on the market give a 'mirrored, chalky effect.' Eyeshadows were given gold undertones for life and vitality, and colors were given depth to to complement dark eyelids." As we'll see in the upcoming history of the brand, Astarté's lipsticks and eye colors were formulated more or less identically.
In the fall of 1977 Pinkney was recruited by a headhunter to join Johnson Products to market their new Moisture Formula line within the Ultra Sheen brand. While this was a lucrative opportunity to work for a Black-founded and owned company, that wasn't the only reason for Pinkney's departure from Revlon: working for Johnson also meant that Bill would finally be able to own his own boat. He recalls, "I had met the head of the company [George Johnson] when I last lived in Chicago; his huge yacht was tied up next to Art's [Dickholtz, Pinkney's sailing mentor] slip at Belmont Harbor. One of the inducements to go back to Chicago was the lure of Lake Michigan and the chance to sail with Art again – and get my own boat. A perk in my contract with Johnson was that they would obtain a mooring if I bought a boat. The chances of procuring a mooring in Chicago harbors were less than winning the lottery." Pinkney subsequently purchased his first boat with the profits of the sale of his Revlon stock.
Pinkney was unceremoniously forced out of Johnson in 1980 after the Moisture Formula failed to produce the profits Johnson anticipated. As told by the Chicago Tribune in 1992: "'It didn't succeed' is one way of putting it,'' says George Johnson, then the company president. 'We were trying to sell an upscale line in drugstores, and it didn't work out.' Johnson rates Pinkney as 'a good guy,' yet not only didn't his line succeed but, Johnson says, he ran afoul of marketing vice president Lafayette Jones, who fired him. 'I got caught in a Friday-afternoon shootout,' Pinkney says."
Still, Pinkney maintains the firing was a blessing in disguise. Reflecting in 1999, he said, "Coming through Revlon, one of the best marketing companies in the country, I had the best training ground. But as I worked for Johnson, I got further away from what I liked, which was creating makeup…I could have stayed in the industry and worked. But I decided it was time to break free." He took a job with the city government in Chicago.
(image via imdb.com)
The rest, as they say, is history. After reflecting on the legacy he wanted to leave behind for his family, particularly his two grandchildren, at age 50 Pinkney "decided he would attempt to sail around the world alone to encourage them to think and do the impossible." Five years later, on August 5, 1990, Pinkney began his adventure from Boston Harbor, returning in June 1992. He continues sailing and has racked up numerous awards and honors, including a lifetime achievement award from the National Sailing Hall of Fame.
I'm so curious to know if Bill ever picked up a makeup brush again after leaving Johnson, or what he would think about makeup for Black customers these days. I also wonder whether, despite his varied interests and intense determination to succeed at anything he tried, his skills at both makeup artistry and beauty marketing specifically allowed him to pursue sailing full time. Could it be said that his dream was fulfilled via the makeup industry? I would reach out for an interview but at the same time feel like I should leave an 87 year-old man in peace!
What do you think? And have you ever been sailing? Despite being a mermaid, I haven't quite found my sea legs – I've gotten sick every time I've been on a boat. Ah well. In any case, stay tuned for histories of Astarté and Ultra Sheen. 🙂
Update, September 1, 2023: I am sad to report that William Pinkney passed away on August 31, 2023. Rest easy, Captain.
Sources
Bennett, Bev. "Test of Time." Press-Dispatch, 25 Apr. 1999, p. 5-7.
Bernardo, Stephanie. The Ethnic Almanac. New York: Doubleday, 1981, p. 341.
Gabriel, Joyce. "Beauty Is Indescribable Thing, Says Executive in National Cosmetics Firm." Kitsap Sun, 23 Oct. 1970, p. 5. (This is a syndicated article that appeared in multiple papers…I don't know how to cite it.)
Grant, Pick. "Race Against Time." Chicago Tribune, 4 Oct. 1992, p.163-165.
Kunz, Mary. "New Hairdo, Makeup for Nancy." Detroit Free Press, 15 Dec. 1970, p. 3-C.
Kushla, Gigi. "Black Cosmetic Industry Competitive." Chicago Tribune, 13 Sept. 1976, p. 60.
Hopkins, Barbara. "Cosmetics Line Designed Specifically for Blacks." Chicago Sun-Times, 9 Sept. 1979, p. 64.
Leiva, Miriam A. Algebra 1: Explorations and Applications. Evanston (IL): McDougal Littell, 1998, p. 322.
Pinkney, Bill. As Long As It Takes: Meeting the Challenge. Piermont (NH): Bunker Hill Publishing, 2006.
Ringle, Ken. "Sailor on History's Seas." Washington Post, 23 Mar 2000.
"The Beauty Part," Women's Wear Daily, 25 Jun. 1976, p. 10.
I am so honored to present at the Art Deco Society UK's winter event series! On Tuesday, March 14 at 7pm BST (3pm EST) join the Museum for "Makeup Moderne: Art Deco Influence in Cosmetics Design". Admittedly I knew very little about Art Deco so it's been quite the learning process, but I hope I deliver a good talk. Get your tickets here.
2022 was the year I realized that I shouldn't try to stick to any kind of schedule in terms of blogging or even exhibition openings. I need to assign target dates, but also try not to beat myself up too much when inevitably they are not met. No progress was made on many of the blog topics, exhibition ideas, and bigger initiatives from last year – for example, as predicted, the website is exactly the same. Nevertheless I want to keep soldiering forward.
In an effort to have slightly more realistic expectations and stay focused, this year I've made three categories of exhibition topics. The first group is the Museum's shortlist, topics that I think and that might be doable by myself. The second group consists of exhibitions that I think would have wide appeal but require co-curation, which, again, will be difficult as no payment can be offered at this time. The last category highlights the non-priority topics, i.e. ones that are good but not quite as immediate as the first group. If the title has no notes next to it, that means the description hasn't changed since last year.
Priority:
- "Indies and Influencers: The Changing Makeup Landscape"
- "Age Before Beauty: Teens and Makeup"
- "Vanity Projects: Celebrity Makeup Brands"
- "Color History Through Cosmetics: Blue"
- "The Medium is the Message: Makeup as Art"- same themes as described in 2022, but I'd love to add a smaller gallery just for Makeup as Muse artists.
- "Ancient Allure: Egyptomania in Makeup" – Tweaked the title from last year, and since I delivered a paper on this subject in October 2022, it might not take quite as much time to pull together an exhibition. Plus, I just discovered the Cleveland Museum of Art is opening an Egyptomania in fashion exhibition in the spring, so there's definitely interest.
- "Just Desserts: Sweet Tooth Revisited" – I'd love for Sweet Tooth to return on its 10-year anniversary. A section on savory food would have to be added since bizarre food collabs reached a new level in 2022.
- "Beauty Marked in Your Eyes: A History of '90s Makeup" - Nearly 10 years and still not much progress since I first got the idea in 2014, but I'm not giving up yet. I was thinking it might be better to try to work on individual segments than the entire history. So far, chapters include: the rise of makeup artist brands, the impact of the internet on cosmetics, the battle for the "multicultural" market of the early '90s, makeup in various subcultures/genres (grrrls, grunge, goth, hip-hop) and how these styles got co-opted by the mainstream beauty industry. The epilogue would be the transition to Y2k makeup and the impact of '9os makeup on today's makeup, including various comebacks.
- "Design is a Good Idea: Innovations in Cosmetics Design and Packaging"
- "Nothing to Hide: Makeup as Mask"
Here are the ones the Museum will need much help with. Who wants to be a volunteer curator?
- "From Male Polish to Guyliner: A History of Men's Makeup"
- "Queens: A History of Drag Makeup"
- "Aliengelic: A Pat McGrath Retrospective"
- "Ugly Makeup: A Revolution in Aesthetics"
- Fashion x Makeup (still haven't thought of a decent title!)
- "Working Beauty: Makeup Artistry as Profession" – I found myself pondering who the first makeup artist was (and I love the hilarious Makeup Artist Memes Instagram account), so perhaps a history of how the career of makeup artist came to fruition would be interesting.
- "Mineral, Animal, Vegetable: 5,000 Years of Cosmetic Ingredients" – We really do put a lot of weird stuff on our faces in the name of beauty. This exhibition would explore the main ingredients used in makeup, along with the more questionable and downright dangerous ones from history.
And the last set, which are things I'm still debating or that need to wait a bit.
- "From Mods and Hippies to Supervixens and Grrrls: '60s and '90s Makeup in Dialogue"
- "Gilded Splendor: A History of Gold Makeup"
- "Black and Blue: Punk Makeup, 1975-2000"
- "Pandemic: Makeup in the Age of COVID-19" – As COVID case numbers remain high, this is getting tabled until it might actually be reasonably safe to go outside without a mask.
- "Catch the Light: Glitter in Cosmetics from Ancient Times Through Today"
"Wanderlust: Travel-Inspired Beauty"
- "By Any Other Name: The Rose in Makeup"
- "Lash Out! A History of Eyelash Beauty" – This one is new and while it might be boring, I am honestly sick of lipstick getting all the attention. There are so many books on it, why not have an extensive look at another makeup category? Thinking eyeliner, blush, highlighter and face powder might all be great options too.
Now for the blog posts. It's too much, but my brain is so eager to research and write!
MM Musings (1-2): In addition to museums as activists/agents of social change (which is coming soon!), I want to write about museum accessibility and revisit building a permanent collection and the issue of ethics in collecting. As the Museum evolved over the years to discuss makeup prior to 1900 and the cosmetic practices of Indigenous peoples, related objects have been on my collecting radar. But none of them have been purchased because their provenance remains questionable. This could also tie into the idea of using replicas of ancient artifacts as a more ethical way of displaying them. Oh, and I've been very inspired by the DMDA – a post exploring in-person events and activities would be really fun.
Makeup as Muse (1): Finally got around to Sylvie Fleury in 2022, so hopefully will be covering Janine Antoni, Rachel Lachowitz, Asa Jungnelius or Tomomi Nishizawa. But there were a couple of others I discovered in the past year, so those are possibilities too.
MM Mailbag (2): I only got one MM Mailbag post up in 2022. Two posts in 2023 would be ambitious, but I'd like to get them up as I think people searching for information find them helpful.
Vintage/brief histories (4-5): Mostly the same as last year, but I am sidetracked by newer ideas I had later in 2022, which are: ear makeup (the knee makeup article yielded a decent amount of website traffic), mouches and skin tone, true crime and makeup, a history of face gems, bindis (got a little obsessed with kumkum and bindi boxes), matching portraits on vintage compacts, the art of shibayama inlay, makeup for glasses wearers, spray (airbrush) makeup, Russian cosmetics during the communist era, guns and makeup, and Riot Grrrl makeup. Local (Baltimore/Maryland) beauty history might be interesting too. I also like the idea of an article on vices in makeup divided into 4 subjects: gambling/casinos, smoking/cigarettes, junk food and alcohol. Previous ideas included dolls and makeup, histories of early modern powder applicators, setting sprays and color-changing cosmetics, copycats, profiles of some more obscure makeup artists from the '60s through the '90s, and histories of defunct brands (a slew of celebrity lines, Diane von Furstenberg, Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, Inoui ID, and revisit Stephane Marais), especially Black-owned brands like Marva Louis and Rose Morgan.
Trends (1): Licensing deals are at the forefront.
Continuations: Still need to finish up posts on Dorothy Gray's portrait series, Chinese makeup brands, and clothing and color coordination.
Topics to revisit (1-2): Mostly the same as last year, sadly, since I still did not tackle them: faux freckles, non-traditional lipstick shades, and a deeper dive into surrealism and makeup. I'd expand to Dada so I can include Rrose Sélavy, this very intriguing woman, and possibly incorporate the MSCHF x Fenty collaboration, since it read very Dada to me.
Artist collabs (5): The list is absolutely staggering. In 2022 alone there were the following collabs: Marleigh Culver for Laura Mercier, Steffi Lynn for Ulta, Robin Eisenberg for Urban Decay, Obi for Fenty, Katie Scott for Hourglass, Elie Top for Clé de Peau, Cho Gi Seok for RMK, Kazuki Hioki for Osaji, Caho for Blendberry, and Andy Paiko for Kanebo. There are tons of other collabs from previous years too, including Kelly Beeman for Laura Mercier, Charlotte Gestaut for Clé de Peau, Cecilia Carlstedt and Ethar Balkhair for Bobbi Brown, Masumi Ishida for Osaji, Åsa Ekström for Estée Lauder, El Seed for MAC, Connor Tingley for NARS, and the Shiseido Gallery compacts and lip balms. Not to mention I found a couple of Native American artists who made some beautiful pieces, and some other artists whose work appeared on vintage compacts (Raymond Peynet and Jean Cocteau, for starters.) The series on the artists whose work appears on Pat McGrath's packaging is better suited to the Aliengelic exhibition so that might be at the end of the queue for now.
Book reviews (2-5): The list is seriously out of control. Two more beauty books are coming out soon, plus I came across a couple I didn't know about previously.
Fashion: The collections of Dries van Noten, Off-White, and Marco Ribeiro for Pleasing are at the top of the list, along with a couple of vintage brands.
Color Connections (1-2): Slowed down a bit from the beginning of 2022, but still keeping up with them!
Miscellaneous: Kawaii collections like Kakao Friends, BTS, Sticky Monster Lab and others, along with newcomer Isamaya Beauty, a line by makeup artist Isamaya Ffrench. And I want to keep plugging away on Indigenous peoples' makeup and lesser-known LGTBQ+ histories. I'm finding the latter difficult to locate – the same figures and stories keep popping up, and I want to find others that haven't been shared much before. Finally, it's not even a fully formed idea, but I'm giving myself a crash course in material culture, so I'd like to write something about how that relates to makeup objects. Oh, and some reflections on the Makeup Museum in honor of its 15 year anniversary, which is coming up in August.
Tabled for now: history of colored mascara, how makeup language has evolved (for example, why we typically say "blush" now instead of "rouge" for cheek color, the idea of makeup as jewelry, day and night makeup, wear-to-work makeup from the 1970s-90s, profiles of Halston, Calvin Klein and Nina Ricci brands, BIPOC salespeople and customers in MLM companies, and makeup ad illustrators.
And finally, the books I can't seem to even start. Meh. New idea for this year is an edited volume of alternative makeup histories. I've seen many examples of "beyond the canon" in other fields and think a book like this is needed for makeup, and I think the Makeup Museum would be perfect to put out such a publication since it has always tried to tell the story of makeup in a different way and uncover hidden histories. Still need a title.
So, tell me: which of the topics from the first exhibition category and which blog posts do you want to see the most? And do you want to see exhibitions and blog posts or would you rather see a book finally get published and the website redone? It's a constant battle between regularly putting out content and devoting time to larger projects.
Discussing various styles of face paint1 worn by different Indigenous peoples is critical for a better understanding of the history of cosmetics and recognizing that makeup outside of the modern industry exists. For many people across the globe, cosmetics beyond mass produced items have been part of their culture for millennia. The practices of the Seri or Comcáac ("the people") will be briefly surveyed in this post.2
Former nomads, the Seri live in Northwest Mexico, specifically in the Sonoran desert. Men, women and children engaged in face painting, but not equally: it was mostly women who wore it and almost always applied it. One of the earliest accounts by an American of Seri face painting practices was published in 1898. While an incredibly racist retelling – the words "primitive" and "savage" are staples – William J. McGee's history of who wore face paint and why at least provides a starting point for analysis. He states, "On noting the individual distribution of face-painting, it is found to be practically confined to the females, though male infants are sometimes marked with the devices pertaining to their mothers, as adult warriors are said to be on special occasions; and so far as observed all the females, from aged matrons to babes in arms, are painted, though sometimes the designs are too nearly obliterated by wear to be traceable…none of the men or larger boys were painted." McGee hypothesizes that the designs could be loosely categorized as corresponding to one of three clans: the Turtle:
Illustrations of Seri women known as Juana Maria (left) and Candalaria (right), ca. 1894
The Pelican:
Unidentified Seri girls and woman, ca. 1894
And the Rattlesnake, seen on the lower left of this illustration:
Illustration showing different Seri face painting patterns, ca. 1894
(images via gutenberg.org)
Further, McGee proposes that the designs take after animal markings either as a warning to others or as simple identification. "[The] designs are sacred insignia of totemic character, serving to denote the clans of which the tribe is composed…On analyzing the directive markings of animals, it is convenient to divide them into two classes, distinguished by special function, usual placement, and general relation to animal economy: the first class serve primarily to guide flight in such manner as to permit ready reassembling of the flock; they are usually posterior, as in rabbit, white-tail deer, antelope, and various birds; and they primarily signify inimical relations to alien organisms, with functional exercise under stress of fear. The second class of markings serve primarily for mutual identification of approaching individuals…the directive markings of the first class are substantially beacons of danger and fear, while those of the second are just as essentially standards of safety and confidence; and they may properly be designated as beacon-markings and standard-markings, respectively…careful analysis would seem fully to justify the casual impression of functional similitude between the Seri face-painting and the directive markings of social animals."
Finally, McGee notes that the most visible markings are displayed by male animals and by that logic, the men instead of women should have their faces painted. He explains, however, that women primarily wear it as they are the "blood-carriers" of the clans. "While the first survey establishes a certain analogy between the primitive face-painting and the standard-markings of animals, an important disparity is noted when the survey is extended to individuals; for among beasts and birds the standards are usually the more conspicuously displayed by the males, while the paint devices of the Seri are confined to the females…the females alone are the blood-carriers of the clans; they alone require ready and certain identification in order that their institutional theory and practice may be maintained; and hence they alone need to become bearers of the sacred blood-standards. The warriors belong to the tribe…but on the females devolves the duty of defining and maintaining the several streams of blood on which the rigidly guarded tribal integrity depends."3 Instead of admitting this theory may be flawed in the sense that he did not consider other, more plausible reasons for women being the primary wearers of face paint, McGee was steadfast in the accepted beliefs of the time, which treated all Native peoples and their practices as uncivilized curiosities.
To a white audience, McGee's arguments about the Seri's use of face paint were persuasive, but more inaccuracies about their cosmetic practices and other customs persisted throughout the 1930s and '40s. A widely published article in 1936 asserted that Seri women used large beauty patches in preparation to be auctioned off to a husband.4
Unidentified Seri women, Evansville Journal, March 23, 1936
While the face paint patterns appear to be patches in this poorly reproduced photo, there has never been any evidence to suggest the Seri used anything other than paint. (Incidentally, this is the only source that also discusses the selling of brides. My guess is that, as with most reports of Indigenous peoples throughout the 20th century, news outlets embellished or flat-out lied about their cultures to sell papers.) The sensationalized feature Ripley's Believe It Or Not also claimed that the Seri painted their faces green, which is completely false.5
Fortunately, subsequent publications in the mid-20th century challenge McGee's findings and provide a more accurate account of the Seri's face painting traditions. In 1946, Gwyneth Harrington Xavier published her observations on the Seri from five trips she made to their land between 1937 and 1945. "Face painting is the most outstanding adornment of the Seri, and in its highly stylized and beautifully executed patterns it approaches a true art…The basis of the style is a horizontal bar straight across the nose and cheeks, with design elements pendant from the latter. The forehead and chin are never painted." She disputes McGee's insistence that face painting indicated belonging to a certain clan. Instead, Xavier found that the designs were mostly used for artistic creation and beautification among women, with distinctions between married and unmarried women. And while the men indicated they used to wear face paint for war in "the old days," the practice was rare now among them, and was used for adornment than any other purpose.
Unidentified Seri man. Undated photo by Edward H. Davis.
There was also no distinction between the designs for married and unmarried men. "The women paint frequently (not just for special occasions), deriving from it interest and personal satisfaction…The Seri themselves made a very clear distinction between designs used by married and unmarried women. The girl's designs were often designated as 'just to look pretty," or 'a painting, nothing more' or 'just making herself pretty to show she is looking for a husband'. Flowery designs and leaves, they all agreed, were used only by the unmarried girls, while married women alone were the sole users of designs varying about other elements, such as the one they called 'the manta' or giant ray." Beautification via makeup to try to attract a man? The sentiment is not too far off from most mid-century makeup advertising.
Three Seri women. Photo by Edward H. Davis, 1936.
Additionally, Xavier argues that some of the designs were in fact intended for curative or protective purposes. One example was men wearing paintings of knives to protect against cuts. Curative designs were dictated by the shaman and were meant to treat mental as well as physical ailments. "A distinction was also made and clearly expressed between designs made simply for adornment, and those termed protective designs. The latter are painted to protect against certain definite dangers, either tangible, such as knives or snakes, or intangible, such as bad dreams, or the 'little people' who live in the mountains and whose invisible arrows cause illness and pain. Curative designs were also used, in which case the shaman told them what to paint on their faces. I saw two curative paintings made on the advice of the shaman, one a whirling design for a disturbed mind, and the other, on a child, a squared design on the cheeks explained as the doors of the sacred cave on Tiburón. The child had been suffering from nightmares and cried much at night."6 The crosses shown on this boy were appropriated from Jesuit missionaries, who indicated that the crosses fought off evil.7
Seri boy. Undated photo by Edward H. Davis
(images via the San Diego History Center)
Some 50 years later, photographer David Burckhalter summarized the occasions for which the Seri traditionally applied face paint along with application methods. "In traditional Seri life, face painting was vigorously practiced during all festive tribal events. During the four days of a sea turtle fiesta, at a girl's puberty ceremony, or even as Charles Sheldon reported, during nightly dancing and singing, Seri women, children, and men appeared ornamented with painted faces."8 In her excellent and thorough 2016 paper on the subject, Diana Teresa Hernández Morales expands on Burckhalter's findings by identifying two more specific events in addition to the turtle celebration and the puberty ceremony for girls. These are the basket festival, another 4-day festival in which an elder woman weaves a large basket and acts as the host of the party, providing food and games for the celebration; and the New Year, which is based on the lunar calendar. Since this differs each year, the Council of Elders declared June 30 and July 1 to be the official Seri New Year celebration in conjunction with the funding they receive from the Mexican government. Morales echoes Xavier's findings regarding face paint as social marker, but clarifies that the painting denotes four main groups: girls, young women, adult women and men – i.e., while the designs still point to gender, they are rooted more in age than marital status.9
In terms of application, historically the pigments were mixed on stones and transferred to seashells as a palette, and paint was applied with twigs or small bundles of human hair. Seashells filled with water and held in the sun served as mirrors.10 While store-bought pigments and brushes are the norm today, seashells are still used as containers or sometimes a surface on which to practice designs.11
(image from journals.openedition.org)
Getting back to the meaning of the designs, given the 50-year gap between McGee and Xavier's expeditions, it could be the case that McGee's theory about the designs corresponding to clans was correct, and that the Seri had simply adopted different practices between his visit in the late 1800s and Xavier in the 1940s. However, Alfred L. Kroeber, who visited in 1930 and published his findings a year later, also disputes McGee's idea that the designs were representative of clan designations. "My conviction is that the Seri paint primarily for adornment, and that further significance is either secondary or absent…face painting in fact seems to be the chief if not only purely aesthetic expression of Seri culture, their mode of life and psycho-physiological habits being such as almost to prohibit any other form of art. In this painting, on the other hand, they have achieved a high degree of stylizication and taste."12
Unidentified Seri woman, 1924
(image via pinterest)
Additionally, students Dane and Mary Roberts Coolidge further corroborated these findings after their trip in 1939, noting that the girls painted "designs in color out of their own imagination. [They] may get ideas from flowers and seed pods, baskets, birds and snakes, the sun and moon."13 Finally, Xavier confirms both Kroeber's and the Coolidges' accounts. "McGee insisted the designs were totemic clan symbols. So far, I have found no trace of this. The old shaman, Santo Blanco, talked a little of the 'great families' of the past, but did not relate face painting to class symbols at all. He agreed with several other Seri that each family had its own 'class' of paintings, but this may mean no more than favorite family designs, or a feeling of ownership of certain designs." Xavier concludes: "The most definite and interesting classifications made by the Seri were those of the married and unmarried women, men's and children's designs, and those used purely for ornament, in contra-distinction to the protective designs and curing designs…In view of the number explained as protective and curing designs, and the importance apparently attached to them in the minds of the Seri, I must assume them to be of at least equal significance with the painting for adornment."14
Andrea Ramona, photo by Edward H. Davis, 1923
(image via the San Diego History Center)
In the 1950s Mexican evangelist missionaries attempted to discourage the Seri from adorning their faces in the traditional manner.15 By the early 1960s commercially produced makeup had arrived to the Seri. Despite the efforts of the missionaries and the Seri's enjoyment of certain modern products, they maintained their customary face painting.16
"Pintura Facial – La Mujer Seri" by Maria Antonieta Castilla, 1964. Collection of the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, Mexico.
(image from lugares.inah.gob.mx)
During this decade, anthropologist Mary Beth Moser published a thorough description of how the Seri created the blue pigment they used. She found that it was not the mineral dumortierite, as written by McGee and Kroeber, but a pigment made from root bark, sap and clay. Interestingly, none of these is blue in their natural state. Moser noted that the pigment can only be prepared by older women and the process only observed by girls who have reached menstruation. Men, boys and younger girls are prohibited from observing, as the Seri believe the pigment will not turn blue otherwise.17 (It should be noted that McGee was correct about the red and white pigments, which were harvested from ocher and gypsum, respectively, and mixed with water or grease.18)
As the century wore on, the general flavor of racism towards the Seri turned from hostility and disdain to exotification. Rather than declaring them to be uncivilized cannibals, some descriptions romanticized the face painting practices of the women. This 1958 passage from journalist José Luis Contreras implies that the Seri's cosmetic application enhances their natural features. Normally this wouldn't be a negative observation, but the way he describes them suggests that all Seri have the same facial structure in a way that smacks of fetishization. "Women paint their faces with brightly colored chalk, leaving the flat surfaces of their faces bare and concentrating on the salient cheekbones, in order to make their almond eyes stand out. Red, of course, carefully covers their beautifully molded lips."19 Art historian Deborah Dorotinsky explains the exoticization inherent in Contreras' account: "As with 'Seri Belle', photographed for McGee some 60 years earlier, Seri women and their faces are once again framed by the text in relation to a non-Indian masculine gaze. [Contreras's] photo essay thus communicates that Seri Indians adapt to civilized life, but are exploited and decimated by the evils of civilization. The persistence of facial decoration, appears, then, possibly as a form of resistance to their disappearance as a differentiated ethnicity, even as this exoticization masks their terrible living conditions and serves as an ambivalent way to symbolically distance and attract non-Seri Indians."20
Unidentified Seri woman, ca. 1952-1960. Photo by Ed Moser.
(image via mexico.sil.org)
At this point, the Seri were dealing with even more external forces destroying their way of life. While colonization had started in the 1600s with the Spanish, by the last quarter of the 20th century and continuing into the 21st, the Seri have had to contend with threats such as mining companies, overfishing, drug trafficking and lack of fresh water. However, face painting traditions, along with other aspects of their culture and their land more generally, are being preserved by the Seri themselves as well as artists and nonprofit organizations via art projects, festivals and exhibitions. In 1979 photographer Graciela Iturbide traveled to Sonora and, along with anthropologist Luis Barjau, lived among the Seri for two months. Iturbide published a book of her photos, Those Who Live in the Sand (Los que viven en la arena). Two of the most striking photos feature Seri face paint, one on a Seri woman and the other a self-portrait of Iturbide. According to the National Museum of Women in the Arts blog, "This was a sign of Iturbide’s acceptance into the community, as the Seri women asked to paint her face as they did their own. Iturbide does not exoticize or mimic the practice. Instead, this self-portrait represents her own self-interrogation and integration with her role as a photographer in the indigenous community."
Gabriela Iturbide, Self-Portrait as Seri, 1979
1979 was also the year in which a demonstration hosted by the Sonoran Heritage Program at the Tuscon National Library showed participants how to apply traditional face paint designs using minerals and plants found locally. This was a good way to spread knowledge about the Seri face painting practice, but unfortunately did not seem to have any direct involvement of the Seri.21 In November 1985 a cultural exchange sponsored jointly by the Tuscon Museum of Art and a nearby arts and crafts shop attempted to actually include the Seri people rather than using their designs without their knowledge or consent. The Tuscon Museum brought some Seri community members to showcase and sell their artistry, including woven baskets, carved ironwood, shell necklaces and face painting demonstrations.22 Hopefully they were paid for their services in addition to whatever goods they sold, but it's not clear. That same year the Comcáac Museum opened in Sonora.
(image from isc.gob.mx)
Burckhalter's 1996 article on Seri face painting in Native People's Magazine demonstrated that while the practice had diminished slightly, it was still customary among women and girls, who were wearing it almost exclusively for artistic purposes. He spoke with Maria Félix, who stated that "sometimes we paint manta rays or flower designs, but there is no special meaning to my painting…I invented my face decoration because it looks pretty." Burckhalter concludes, "Remembering the ease with which the friendly women settled down on their blanket to the pleasure of painting and of being face painted gave me hope that Seri face painting could again become an everyday sight."23 A year after that, researcher and social worker Alejandrina Espinoza Reyna published a book on the history of Seri face painting after having lived in their community for nearly 10 years. The book contained over 60 designs and two copies – one in Spanish and one in Comcáac – were given to each member. It proved particularly vital for helping preserve the Seri environment, and in 2007 Espinoza was appointed director of the Comcáac Museum. (Much to my frustration, I cannot seem to get a hold of a copy of her book or the subsequent one released by the Instituto Sonorense de Cultura that contains over 250 designs…if anyone can please let me know!)
Adolfo Burgos presents various face paint designs, 2018. Photo by Fernando Rosales.
Similar to the festival held in 1985, in 2009 California-based artist Deborah Small hosted the Seri/Comcáac Women's Artisan Cooperative to participate in events and sell their art at various museums and cultural centers. Interestingly, the same woman who was photographed at the 1985 festival, Angelita Torres, participated in the showcase. I like to think of her as the modern day godmother of Seri face painting who is protecting it and making sure it gets passed down to future generations.
Angelita Torres, 1985 and 2009
(images from archive.org and deborahsmall.wordpress.com)
More recently, younger Seri people, especially musicians, are actively working to preserve their heritage and environment and showcase their artistry in the process. Morales highlights the Seri band Hamac Caziim, who apply paint for shows, along with musician and activist Zara Monrroy. Monrroy wears the traditional face paint, and not just for performances or speaking engagements. Rather, she also incorporates it into her everyday life just as her ancestors did.
Seri band Hamac Caziim
(image from soundcloud.com)
Zara Monrroy
(image from wikipedia.org)
Social media has also played a role in helping maintain the Seri face painting practice. Facebook and YouTube have proved valuable tools in preserving the tradition, particularly during the pandemic. In June 2020, the hashtag #challengehayeenipaii (hayéen ipáii is the Comcáac for "face paint"24) was created to encourage Seri members to don face paint for the annual new year celebration. As large gatherings were prohibited, the challenge allowed virtual participation in the face painting that is customary for Seri new year parties. Additionally, searches for #comcaac and #seris on Instagram yield many examples of face painting.
Naturally, I was wondering what the reaction would be if a non-Seri artist (makeup or otherwise) appropriated the designs without acknowledging their origins, or worse, a makeup brand devised a Seri collection or kit. Because I'm cursed with the ability to envision how a brand will desecrate anything to make a profit, I'm imagining a shell-shaped palette, tiny twig-like brushes and several stencils, even though it looks like the Seri draw their designs freehand. I don't think it would be acceptable even if the collection was directed by a member of the Seri and all proceeds went to their tribe, especially after reading the story of Elizabeth Valdivieso Gurrión, a singer who goes by the name Valgur. Morales concludes her paper by describing the reaction of several Seri members who, upon seeing Gurrion's visage adorned with Seri patterns in 2014, suggested trying to copyright various Seri designs to protect them from outsiders.25 (For the record, it seems Valgur have completely overhauled their brand since the time of Morales's writing, most likely due to the public outcry regarding Gurrión's appropriation of Native cultures that were not her own.)
Elizabeth Valdivieso Gurrión, 2014
(image from tuscon.com)
Another example of a prominent non-Seri wearing face paint came in May of this year, when singer Christian Nodal performed at Fiestas del Pitic in his hometown of Sonora. He requested Seri woman Mina Barnett to paint his face before going on stage. Barnett explained the designs were historically worn by warriors for protection in battle, but she also interpreted this modern one as a sign of wishing Nodal well in his future endeavors: "La pintura facial que luce, significa protección para los guerreros. La interpretación que le di al realizarle este diseño fue desearle el bien para todos los proyectos de su vida." An elder Seri member, Alberto Mellado, stated that he had no issue with it and said that Seri designs worn by people not from the community were a gesture of "friendship and goodwill."
Mina Barnett and Christian Nodal, May 2022
(images from enelradar.com)
Nodal apparently liked the concept of Seri face paint so much he got a tattoo of a more traditional Seri design. The backlash was swift and brutal, but not primarily because the public felt it was cultural appropriation: the critique was mostly about facial tattoos in general. Of the dozens of articles covering Nodal's Seri-inspired tattoo, only a handful brought up the issue of cultural appropriation.
According to some coverage, there were accusations of appropriation as Nodal revealed the tattoo on Instagram Stories, but he defended it by claiming he had permission from the Seri to get the design permanently on his face.30 Another article made the argument that while Nodal is not part of the Seri, he grew up in the same region and the tattoo was a way of honoring the people and their locale. I'm still not really sure what to think about those outside the Seri community using the designs even if they explain the culture responsible for them, as both Gurrión and Nodal did. But I don't think I'd feel comfortable getting made up by a Seri person, let alone a tattoo.
In any case, for the Seri, face painting helps connect them to their heritage as well as nature. White means good luck, red signifies the blood of their ancestors, and the blue represents both the desert sky and the ocean that comprise the Seris' surroundings. Most importantly, face painting is integral to forming and maintaining a strong ethnic identity. While the Seri engage in face painting for traditional ceremonies and celebrations, they recognize the importance of wearing face paint for occasions outside of their local community to represent their culture. It becomes not just facial decoration or a way to denote their age/gender, but a means of communicating that they belong to a particular ethnic group. From a purely aesthetic perspective, the delicate and ornate patterns combined with the simple color scheme are incredibly striking and beautiful.
What design is your favorite? Would you like to see more makeup from Indigenous peoples? I'm still not sure whether it's appropriate for me to discuss, but there are so many I'd love to highlight.
1For the purposes of this post, I am using the phrase "face paint" instead of "makeup" as I believe there is a distinction between the two when discussing the practices of Indigenous peoples and/or makeup produced prior to the modern era. Makeup usually refers to the commercially produced items beginning in the early 20th century intended specifically for painting the face for purposes of beautifying; face paint is more the act of applying paint to one's face using pigments that are not made or reserved solely for cosmetic usage and for a variety of purposes besides beautification. Many Indigenous peoples, including the Seri, use the same paint for self-adornment as they do for painting on other surfaces, and sometimes for religious/spiritual purposes in addition to beautification. Articles written in Spanish about the Seri also seem to make this distinction, using "pintura facial" more often than "maquillaje."
2I stumbled across the Seri through Stephen Davies' 2020 book Adornment: What Self-Decoration Tells Us About Who We Are, which I found while browsing the Bloomsbury site. For more general resources on the Seri, see this bibliography and the listings at the University of Arizona Press. For the etymology of Seri and Comcáac, see Stephen A. Marlett, "The Seris and the Comcaac: Sifting fact from fiction about the names and relationships," Work Papers of the Summer Institute of Linguistics, University of North Dakota Session, Vol. 51 , Article 1: 2011. The Arizona Archives Online provides some additional sources.
3W. J. McGee, "The Seri Indians", extract from the Seventeenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1898) 162-169. McGee's opinion of the Seri aesthetic was at least somewhat neutral compared to that of retired army captain J. Lee Humfreville, who wrote in the early 1900s that the Seris' use of face paint was intended to "make themselves look as ugly as possible."
4"Low Bids for Hollywood Lovelies Where the Seri Indians Auction Wives," The Times (Shreveport, LA), February 23, 1946, 48.
5"Green Faced Woman of Baja (Lower) California: The Married Women of the Seri Tribe Paint their Faces Green," Ripley's Believe it Or Not, August 31, 1947.
6Gwyneth Harrington Xavier, "Seri Face Painting," Kiva 11, no. 2 (Jan. 1946): 15-20.
7David Burckhalter, "The Traditional Art of Adornment," Native Peoples Magazine 10, no. 1 (Nov-Dec. 1996): 73.
8Ibid.
9Diana Theresa Hernández Morales, "La pintura facial de los comcáac: una creación artística en la dinamica social," (Tesis de maestría, 2016) El Colegio de San Luis, San Luis Potosí, 60-65.
10McGee, "The Seri Indians," 166.
11For more on the Seris' use of shells, see https://shellsonadesertshore.com/
12A.L. Kroeber, "The Seri," Southwest Museum Papers, no. 6 (April 1931): 27.
13"Face Painting Is Art to Seri Indian Girls," Science Newsletter 35, no. 20 (May 20, 1939): 317.
14Xavier, "Seri Face Painting," 19-20.
15William B. Griffen, "Notes On Seri Indian Culture, Sonora, Mexico," (Gainesville: University of Florida Press) 1959, 5.
16Bernice Johnston, "Formerly Fierce Mexican Tribe Nearing Extinction," Arizona Daily Star, June 14, 1964, 9.
17Mary Beck Moser, "Seri Blue," Kiva 30, no. 2 (December 1964): 27-32. By the mid-20th century, Seri were primarily using commercially available blue pigment. For more on the Seris' use of plants, see Richard Stephen Felger and Mary Beck Moser, People of the Desert and Sea: Ethnobotany of the Seri Indians (Tucson: University of Arizona Press), 1985.
18McGee, "The Seri Indians," 165-166.
19José Luis Contreras, "Congcaac, la tribu que agoniza. La raza de los Seri se apaga el infierno de la isla Tiburón," Mañana no. 787 (October 4, 1958), quoted in Deborah Dorotinsky, "It Is Written in Their Faces: Seri Women and Facial Painting in Photography," in Visual Typologies from the Early Modern to the Contemporary: Local Contexts and Global Practices, ed. Tara Zanardi and Lynda Klich (New York: Routledge, 2018) 176.
20Dorotinsky, "It Is Written in Their Faces" 176.
21"Seri Indian Cultural Spirit Relived in Painted Faces," Arizona Daily Star, February 19, 1979, 30.
22Mike Thompson, "Seri Indian Cultural Exchange in Tuscon," Viltis 45, no. 6 (March 1987): 6-8.
23Burckhalter, "The Traditional Art of Adornment," 74.
24Marlett, Stephen A and Mary Beck Moser, Comcaac Quih Yaza Quih Hant Ihiip Hac Cmiique Iitom – Cocsar Iitom – Maricaana Iitom = Diccionario Seri-Español-Ingles Con Indices Español-Seri Ingles-Seri Y Con Gramatica 1ª ed. (Sonora: Plaza y Valdes, 2005) 365.
25Morales, "La Pintura Facial de Los Comcáac," 100-101.
The general process for this post was to try to write something, immediately get overwhelmed and move on to something else. Hence why it took me 5 years to come up with anything on NARS's holiday 2017 collection, which featured the work of Surrealist artist Man Ray. November 18, 2022 marks the 46th anniversary of the artist's passing, and since NARS's recent collections have been very lackluster I thought this is finally the year I get a post up about the Man Ray collab.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) there is a ton of information about the collection and Man Ray's work. I'm not going to delve too much into it because there are literally entire books on Man Ray, but I will highlight the artwork used in the NARS collection and the process behind it, along with some other connections between Man Ray and makeup outside of the collaboration. As with Sarah Moon and Andy Warhol, Francois Nars chose an artist that has inspired him for years. "You know it’s almost always the same the process [with these collaborations]. They’re always with people that inspire me either since I was a kid or for many, many years. I really pick them randomly, it’s pure attraction. I just think, 'Why don’t we do a collaboration with Man Ray?' It’s really people that have been influencing me a lot in my work, in my photography, in whatever I do. And people who I really love what they do. It’s very pure and simple." He approached the Man Ray Trust about using the artist's work for a makeup line, and was thrilled when they agreed.
Nars discovered the work of Man Ray as a teenager. The modernity of Man Ray's oeuvre as well as the range of subjects he captured for his portraits immediately caught Nars' eye. "I read that every time Man Ray received a visitor in his studio, he'd photograph them," he explains. "He couldn't help it. It could be a friend, his lover, the postman, his housekeeper. He loved taking photographs of anyone he ever met, which is something I can relate to. He was a great inspiration for me when I was starting out as a photographer…I always loved his portraits. That was something I kept in mind. My photography background influence is quite wide, but he had a very distinctive eye on photography and the way you photograph people. The lighting, the abstract feeling in his photographs, sometimes it became more like a painting—there was so much poetry. The poetic aspect in his photos is so interesting." Nars, a self-declared rule-breaker when it comes to makeup, also admires Man Ray's selection of unusual models, favoring those who did not possess conventional beauty but who were remarkable in their own way. "[I] remember the women in Man Ray's photographs were so dramatic in their looks and their choice of make-up. Man Ray was very daring in his casting, he was always searching for that type of unique beauty. I can relate to that, I don't tend to go for simple, pretty faces."
The use of makeup in Man Ray's photos strengthened their compositions despite (or maybe even due to) the absence of color. Nars points out that the makeup in Man Ray's work encourages the viewer to consider shadows, angles, contrast and the overall significance of the image rather than being distracted by vivid hues. The same principles can be applied to the face, i.e. color is not necessarily required to make an impact when the focus is on texture, placement, shapes, etc. "To me, something brilliantly coloured can look great represented in black and white. The lack of colour forces you to see something deeper in the object, but often just as beautiful. Make-up is similar. It’s not always about colour on the face. A very graphic, lined eye or defined lip creates a look that isn’t about colour at all. And, of course, some make-up – black eyeliner or a very dark red lip against pale skin – can appear almost black and white…As a make-up artist, I studied Man Ray’s models very carefully: the shape of a lip, the graphic eyeliner, the placement of the rouge on the cheek. The incredible thing about Man Ray is how his style still seems new, fresh, sharp, even today."
Dr. Wendy Grossman, an art historian and Man Ray expert who advised Nars on the collection, echoes his sentiments. She says, "Man Ray himself paid close attention to the way in which his models were made up. His radical cropping aesthetic led to dramatic images of lips, eyes, and hands, all of which draw the viewer’s attention to the components of the body most enhanced through the use of makeup. Man Ray was very precise and involved with the way his models were made up and staged for his photographs. Man Ray’s special talent was to bring out the unique beauty in each of them and find ways to add a 'surreal appeal' in the way he used lighting, shadows, camera angles to infuse his compositions with mystery and intrigue."
Indeed, Nars himself notes that trying the process of figuring out appropriate colors for the collection was an enjoyable one. "For me, part of the fun of looking at old black and white photographs is imagining what makeup colours and textures were used. Of course the models are wearing colour-probably black eyeliner, powder, dark lip colour-only we can't see it. I also like to imagine what colours Man Ray might have been drawn to if he was working today. And, almost as important, is the aesthetic and vision of beauty that Man Ray represented – it is bold and moody, and a little irreverent and edgy. That's what we have tried to capture in the shades of this collection." However, various shades of red as seen in the set below don't seem that daring; a deep eggplant shade or even black may have been more adventurous and representative of Man Ray's spirit.
Nars states his choice of Man Ray images for the collection were driven by "pure instinct, love and attraction." He was drawn to Man Ray's still life photos, but ultimately ended up selecting those that emphasized the face or certain body parts since they were more relevant to makeup. He also wanted to include Man Ray's most famous and iconic works, such as 1932's Glass Tears: "[While] many people might recognize the image, they may not know that it was Man Ray who created it, and also because as beauty images go, it's perfection." Appropriately enough, Glass Tears was used for a mascara ad.
Cosmecil d'Arlette Bernard mascara ad using Man Ray's Glass Tears, ca. 1934-1935
(image from elmundo.es)
The gold lip motif throughout the collection packaging was devised by longtime NARS art director Fabien Barron and a reference to the golden sculpture of the lips of his former lover Lee Miller.
Dr. Grossman explains how Man Ray became preoccupied with Miller's lips and how he incorporated them into much of his work after their split in 1932. "The lip motif began with Lee Miller, Man Ray’s model, muse and lover from 1929 to 1932. She had beautiful lips, which were featured in many of his photographs. She left him after a tumultuous affair, and he expressed his anger and hurt through an obsessive focus on her lips."
One of Man Ray's most famous images besides Glass Tears, The Lovers: Observatory Time (1936) was also used to sell makeup. It was exhibited at the end of 1936 in MoMA's "Fantastic Art, Dada, Surrealism" show. When the show closed the artist received a telegram from Helena Rubinstein requesting the painting. Man Ray states in his autobiography that he was "overjoyed" to let Madame borrow it for one of her stores in Manhattan. "[With] this windfall I’d be able to devote more time to painting in the future. After awhile, the painting carefully crated was returned to me followed by a letter of thanks from Madame Rubinstein. She had displayed it in her magnificent new beauty emporium on Fifth Avenue, featuring a new lipstick or some other beauty product. This I was told by some outraged friends. However, I wasn’t too upset; I was glad to have the painting back and showed it again in the Paris Surrealist show the next year."1
One of the more intriguing images chosen by Nars for the collection was a photo of his muse and model Adrienne "Ady" Fidelin. Ady was a dancer from Guadalupe and became the subject of nearly 400 of Man Ray's photos after they met in 1936. Dr. Grossman, whose upcoming book "Seeing 'Ady': Adrienne Fidelin, Man Ray, and the Recovery of a Black Surrealist Muse," presents an in-depth look at Ady and her relationship with the artist. She notes, "As with Man Ray’s other muses, Adrienne inspired him to create innovative images that drew on her engaging personality and unique attractive qualities. He found cause on more than one occasion to use her 'café au lait' skin tone as a compositional feature to play on the theme of black and white that permeated his photographic work."
(image from mubi.com)
The image that appears on the eyeshadow palette originally appeared in the September 15, 1937 issue of Harper's Bazaar. It was part of a larger collection of roughly 30 photos entitled "Mode au Congo" in which models wore an array of Congolese headdresses borrowed from a Paris gallery. In "Unmasking Adrienne Fidelin: Picasso, Man Ray, and the (In)Visibility of Racial Difference," Dr. Grossman explains the significance of Ady's Harper's Bazaar portrait. She points out that in a strange paradox, the exotification and racialization of Ady permitted her to be the first Black model in a leading American fashion publication. "The only model of color among those the artist posed sporting one of these headdresses, Fidelin is represented in all nine compositions in which she features in a manner that draws attention to her racial difference: bare shouldered (and bare breasted in several), outfitted with a tiger’s tooth necklace and ivory bangle, and seductively posed…This treatment is exploited in a spread in the September 15, 1937 issue of Harper’s Bazaar where selected images from this series frame an essay by the French surrealist poet Paul Éluard. In the full-page reproduction taking up one half of the spread, the Guadeloupean model is staged to evoke the fashionable 'African native' extoled in the article’s headline, 'The Bushongo of Africa sends his hats to Paris.' This fanciful projection of difference and the assimilation of Fidelin’s identity into a homogenizing notion of blackness literally and figuratively sets her apart from the white European models similarly crowned in Man Ray’s [other] photographs…Ironically, it is arguably this paradoxical treatment of Fidelin that led to the publication of the image even in the face of intransigent racial barriers in the fashion industry. This Guadeloupean woman in the guise of an African thus unceremoniously became the first black model to be featured on the pages of a major American fashion magazine." On the one hand, Nars' inclusion of Ady can be viewed as positive, since even former art history majors and Surrealism enthusiasts such as myself were not aware of her or the fact that she broke significant ground in the fashion world. On the other hand, it may have been more appropriate to use a less exotified image of Ady, iconic though it may be. Plus, if it was really an inclusive gesture meant to familiarize the public with Ady, the company would not have made the decision to sell the palette in a very limited market – to my knowledge, Love Game was only available in the U.K.
In any case, another interesting cosmetics connection to consider is that Man Ray himself dabbled in makeup, frequently painting the face of Kiki de Montparnasse, his lover from 1921-1929. According to biographer Neil Baldwin, "[Man Ray] designed Kiki’s face and painted on it with his own hand. First Man Ray shaved her eyebrows completely, and then he applied others in their place, varying the color, thickness, and angle according to his mood. Her heavy eyelids, next, might be done in copper one day and royal blue another, or else in silver or jade."2 Scholar Susan Keller notes that by applying her makeup in this way, Man Ray was helping to develop a public persona for Kiki rather than portraying a likeness of her. "Instead of representing her, Man Ray was producing her, creating a public mask that was impossible to view separate from her, unlike a portrait on canvas, where the original and the copy (the woman and the portrait) are easily distinguished."3
Man Ray also applied Kiki's eye makeup for his short 1926 film Emak Batia. The artist explains: "[Kiki's] penchant for excessive makeup gave me the idea. On her closed eyelids I painted a pair of artificial eyes which I filmed, having her open her own eyes, gradually disclosing them. Her lips broke into a smile showing her even teeth. Finis – I added in dissolving letters."4
Keller explains how Man Ray elevated makeup to a true art form. "[Man Ray’s] cosmetic games were hardly unique; countless women have used and still do use makeup to reinvent or to stabilize their appearances every day. Man Ray’s status as an artist, however, and his Surreal play with the conventions of makeup, serve to expose by making marvelous women's everyday behavior usually seen as too trivial or mundane to be contemplated in any depth…In keeping with the Surrealist themes of dreams and the unconscious, Kiki’s fantastic makeup shows her both literally awakening and what might be seen as a metaphoric awakening from the deadening world of everyday assumptions, moving from the world of the real to the more-than-real or surreal, just as the film itself was supposed to shock audiences out of their mundane lives into a receptivity for more utopian possibilities."5 This makes sense; however, I still think the idea of makeup as art in this case would not have happened if a Surrealist woman artist, such as Méret Oppenheim or Leonora Carrington, had painted Kiki for the film. The popular perception at the time was that makeup is art only if a man does it. It's akin to food preparation in that women are cooks but men are chefs.
As with all artist collabs, there was speculation about what Man Ray would have thought of his work appearing on a makeup collection. Personally I agree with Dr. Grossman that he would have been flattered, especially given his positive endorsement of Helena Rubinstein putting his art in a store window. "I think Man Ray would appreciate seeing his photographs embraced in this fashion. It would probably not surprise him that the invitation came from a Frenchman; he always felt that the French had a much greater appreciation of his vision and creative practice than did people in his native United States."
Now for a special treat. Via one of the Museum's board members, I had the incredible honor of talking with Dr. Grossman herself about this collection! She was also kind enough to share a photo of the PR box she received from NARS. Truly museum-worthy!
(image courtesy of Dr. Wendy Grossman)
What do you think of this collab and Man Ray? Would you like to see a deep dive into Surrealism and makeup?
1Man Ray, Self-Portrait (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1963), 257-258. For more on Rubinstein's usage of Man Ray's work, see Marie Clifford, "Brand Name Modernism: Helena Rubinstein’s Art Collection, Femininity, and the Marketing of Modern Style, 1925-1940," (PhD diss. University of California, Los Angeles, 1999).
2Neil Baldwin, Man Ray, American Artist (New York: C.N. Potter, 1988), 107.
3Susan Lynn Keller, "Making Up Modernity: Fashioning the Feminine in Early -Twentieth -Century U.S. Culture" (PhD diss., University of California, Santa Barbara, 2008), 238, ProQuest (3330475). By contrast, Lee Miller did not allow Man Ray to "create" her by allowing him to apply makeup: "Some said that Man had 'created' Kiki by designing bizarre makeup and painting it on her – even shaving off her eyebrows and replacing them with new ones at odd angles. Lee needed no embellishment, nor would she submit to being redesigned." From Lee Miller: A Life by Carolyn Burke, (New York: Knopf, 2005), 81.
4Man Ray, 272.
5Keller, 238.
Consumers have come to expect a good measure of dishonesty in makeup marketing. But given the lack of strict regulations for cosmetics labeling in the U.S. ("clean" beauty, anyone?), companies have considerably more freedom to concoct some rather outlandish claims, especially nearly 90 years ago. Case in point: Woodbury's germ-free face powder and germ-proof lipstick and blush.1 In 1933 Woodbury introduced two creams they advertised as germ-free, asserting that their special formula contained a "self-purifying ingredient" that totally inhibited the growth of harmful bacteria even after use: "The last fingertip of Woodbury's Cold Cream is as sterile and free from germ growth as the first."
The faux science in the ads is absolutely mind-boggling, and there's a lot to unpack: the agar plates, the completely made-up Element 576 and the emphasis on germs not causing illness but bad skin.2
(image from archive.vogue.com)
The mummy references are particularly fascinating, especially in the context of other brands that extensively appropriated Egyptian imagery in the name of beauty. Explains Advertising Age: "The illustration used is full of significance. In the background is a photograph of the head of the wooden casket used by ancient Egyptians to enclose mummies. To get the picture, it was necessary to make an exact copy of a New York museum piece…one of the problems was to give the illustration high character. The mummy has a classic connotation [that] suggests the historic beauty of the Egyptians and carries a desert-dry inference on age. Possibility of achieving similar results with a mask treatment was rejected because of frequent use of the idea in recent years."3
While the "historic" beauty of ancient Egyptians is acknowledged in Woodbury's ads, an image of a mummy is used to indicate an undesirable cosmetic trait. If Cleopatra and Nefertiti were represented as beauty icons, the mummy represents ugliness – essentially the opposite of most Egyptian-themed makeup advertising.
Another interesting aspect of Woodbury's marketing of the germ-free line was the inclusion of quotes from a real dermatologist. Many figures used in makeup ads were complete works of fiction, but there was in fact a Dr. John Monroe Sigman and he was indeed a Georgia-based dermatologist. Whether Woodbury got permission to use his name on their germ-free ads is unclear. Most likely they didn't, but the fact that they used an actual, existing dermatologist is a step up from entirely imaginary people like Dr. Charles4 or grossly misrepresented real women such as Mamie Hightower. Anyway, a few years later Woodbury expanded the idea from skincare to makeup. As we know, it's impossible to keep makeup entirely "germ-proof"; it can be sanitized, but the claim that any cosmetic will remain totally free of germs once it's been used is obviously quite the fabrication.
One of the things I was trying to figure out is why Woodbury introduced the germ-free line at this moment in time. There was some hand-wringing about makeup being unsanitary and able to transmit dangerous infections, which may have simply been part and parcel of the general dislike of makeup in the early days of the industry, but common advice to avoid breakouts or infections even by the beginning of the 1930s was the same as today: don't share your makeup, wash your hands thoroughly before handling skincare/makeup (or use a clean brush/other tool) and be sure to remove your makeup daily.5 It appears that the germ-free line was just another marketing tactic to try to set Woodbury's products apart using the latest spin on science-backed cosmetics. Then again, though Woodbury's ads tied germs to unsightly skin issues rather than illness and the flu epidemic of 1918 was long over, the public may have been generally more fearful of germs given their knowledge of how diseases were spread and that vaccinations available today were still decades away in the early 1930s. (Think about it: the moment COVID was declared a pandemic came a tidal wave of articles on whether the virus could live on makeup.) And as historian Shiho Imai points out, certain populations, particularly the Japanese-American community living in Hawai'i, were especially susceptible to the claims of germ-free products. "The bubonic plague and Chinatown fire of 1900 was still fresh in the memory of many Honoluluans. In an environment in which the Chinese, Japanese, Korean and Filipinos continuously changed the geography of race in the city, the specter of germs constituted a peculiar threat to Honolulu's elite community…Woodbury's took advantage of the public's fear of contamination, a strategy that resonated especially with Hawai'i's English-speaking community."6
In any case, while the Federal Trade Commission filed a complaint against Woodbury for several other false claims in 1938, it wasn't until 1941 that they issued a cease and desist specifically on the germ-free marketing, noting that their germ-free/germ-proof products were neither "sterile" nor had any antiseptic properties. The promises made by today's beauty products seem less unbelievable than those Woodbury made in the 1930s – there's no way a company now could get away with claiming any product to be germ-free – but the ad copy is much more vague so as to avoid legal liability. Take, for example, Clé de Peau's holiday 2022 collection, the face cream of which contains something called "Skin-Empowering Illuminator" with an exclusive ingredient the company has dubbed "4MSK." In some ways this sort of drivel seems worse than more specific claims.
Have you ever felt misled by makeup marketing? The vast majority of marketing is patently untruthful, but I think the one I've been snookered by the most is anything labeled "shine-free". As an oily-skinned person I can tell you that I've spent countless dollars trying to achieve a matte t-zone to no avail, yet I fell for it hook, line and sinker for many years. Needless to say, I would have purchased Woodbury's germ-proof powder to avoid the horror of "shiny nose".
1 In their official ads, Woodbury inexplicably appeared to use "germ-proof" for rouge and lipstick and "germ-free" for skincare and face powder. Newspaper ads for all products seemed to use both terms interchangeably.
2 In 1936 Woodbury had increased the percentage of ad copy dedicated to discussing the germ-free qualities of their products; nevertheless even the earlier ads were significantly focused on the products being germ-free. See Advertising Age, December 9, 1935, vol. 6, issue 49, p. 25
3 Advertising Age, May 5, 1934, vol. 5, issue 18, p. 18
4 I have yet to find any evidence that there was a Dr. Charles (or any doctor for that matter) behind Dr. Charles Flesh Food. If anyone can dig something up I'd be grateful!
5 These statements are based on a quick review of newspaper articles from the time, including "Girls Warned Lipsticks Are Germ Carriers," Indiana Gazette, June 24, 1924 and "The Removal of Makeup," Des Moines Tribune, February 20, 1929.
6 Imai, Shiho. Creating the Nisei Market: Race and Citizenship in Hawaii's Japanese American Consumer Culture. University of Hawai'i Press (2010), p. 49. This statement suggests that xenophobia and racism may have been at play as well in the marketing and purchasing of germ-free products. In this case, buying these items may have been viewed by Japanese Americans living in Hawaii as a way to assimilate and avoid accusations of uncleanliness or spreading disease. (Again: see the current pandemic and greatly increased hate crimes towards Asians.)
Hello! It's been so quiet on the blog because I've been prepping the Makeup Museum's latest exhibition. I am incredibly pleased and honored to announce that I was asked to organize an exhibition in conjunction with an academic conference! "I’m Your Venus: The Reception of Antiquity in Modern Cosmetic Advertising and Marketing", was hosted by Drs. Laurence Totelin (Cardiff University) and Jane Draycott (University of Glasgow) and "aims at better understanding the centrality of antiquity in the construction of modern standards of hygiene and beauty, as well as examining and critiquing the image of antiquity that emerges from the modern material. The conference seeks to explain the prominence of certain ancient figures, be they divine or human, in the modern cosmetic industry, and how these ancient figures are used to promote certain standards, such as whiteness or exoticism, thinness, femininity and masculinity, and youth." As you can imagine, over the years the Museum has amassed quite a few artifacts that fit the conference theme so naturally I jumped at the chance to organize an accompanying exhibition. Plus it was a good opportunity to really start planning the Egyptian exhibition. 🙂
The conference has come and gone (and I did a virtual walk-through of the exhibition!) but the program is still available here. There were so many wonderful presentations! I'm still adding objects here and there to the exhibition, but you can check it out at the Museum's special exhibition website here.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and questions on this topic!