CW/TW: racist imagery and slurs for Indigenous, Asian, Latinx, and Black populations as well as those of Middle Eastern descent.
It's been nearly a decade since I discussed one of the many ugly parts of the beauty industry: cultural appropriation in makeup advertising and collections. The purpose of this post is to see what's happened on that front since 2013, highlight yet more historic examples and examine where we are now and where we're going. Is the industry moving in a positive direction with respect to cultural appropriation? How about the broader makeup wearing community and artists? The usual caveat applies, which is that cultural appropriation in makeup could be an entire book, but I think at least scratching the surface might be helpful in terms of reminding people about this issue and informing future research.
As covered in the previous post on this topic, cultural appropriation within a fashion and beauty context is defined as companies taking a culturally important symbol or idea (usually of a non-dominant or marginalized group) and using it for profit rather than true cultural appreciation. (This primer is still really good). Cultural appropriation is marked by a failure to acknowledge the significance behind a cultural artifact/practice or the reduction of a group to a harmful stereotype. Something that I didn't clarify in 2013 is that cultural appropriation is not different than racism but rather a form of it, along with stereotyping, fetishization and othering of BIPOC cultures. I mistakenly stated that appropriation "ties into racism", but that's not accurate. It IS racism, full stop.
So what are some of the culturally appropriative ads and collections that have been released in the past decade or so? Summer 2016 brought both Essence's Lights of the Orient and MAC's Vibe Tribe collection. In Essence's case, the design appears to be a mishmash of a watered-down Middle Eastern-looking pattern and a Greek key border for some reason. The packaging for Vibe Tribe, meanwhile, looks vaguely Navajo but does not reference any particular Native American tribe.
With the 2017 Lise Watier Luxotikka and Givenchy's 2018 Africa Light highlighter, it's not clear which culture they're ripping off. Once again, Africa is not a monolith. Some "tribal" print and a Black (?) model do not automatically refer to Africa. What is clear is Watier's portmanteau of "lux" and "exotic", and the latter word should not be used in this context.
Nomad's Shanghai palette was more complicated. As the company name suggests, Nomad is dedicated to creating palettes and collections named for the two (white, European) founders' globe-trotting adventures. Some argued that their products are meant to represent their experiences in the places they've visited rather than capturing the spirit of a particular locale. And travel-themed collections and lines are generally innocuous. But unlike Nomad's other releases, most agreed that the Shanghai palette seemed completely ignorant of the city (despite Nomad's claim that they worked with Chinese colleagues living there) and reduced it, along with much of Chinese culture, to stereotypes. People also felt it was tone-deaf given the rise of violent attacks against members of the AAPI community in 2021, which Nomad did not acknowledge at all.
And now for some vintage pieces I've come across. Cutex's Aztec Treasures refers to "pagan" colors, which in this instance is synonymous with some other racist terms ads love to use when describing ancient, non-white cultures: savage or primitive. The sculptures and architecture are reduced to props for white ladies. Using art to sell makeup is not new, nor is it problematic for a brand to be inspired by white/European artists since they are referring to a dominant culture, but in this context and combined with the ad copy, it is most definitely appropriation.
Revlon's 1969 Mexicolor collection ad isn't the most offensive, but inventing words like "Mexicolor" and the model's styling contribute to stereotyping. And once again the art serves as a backdrop.
I don't even know where to start with Yardley's China Brights ad from 1972. The shade names, the styling and the entire concept are just…awful.
The assault on Native American cultures ranges from garden-variety offensive to OMG-how-did-they-get-away-with-this-even-back-then. Embarrassingly, I purchased this Richard Hudnut compact a while ago. I knew it was named Thunderbirds, but because it was released in 1941 I believed it was referencing the U.S. air force group, which, in turn, I thought was named from the fact that planes were sometimes called birds and military jets make a ton of noise – I literally thought thunderbirds referred to WWII planes and the compact's imagery was an interesting representation of the name. I usually don't find military themes appealing and tend not to buy them for the Museum, but I honestly enjoyed this particular design. Little did I know that thunderbirds are mythological creatures from the folklore of many different Native American tribes. (According to this museum, the air force group's adoption of the thunderbirds name and symbol in 1939 was a result of their previous insignia – a swastika – being synonymous with Nazis by that point.) In any case, I don't think this compact had anything to do with the U.S. Air Force, but even if it did, it would still be appropriation.
It's bad enough that Tussy refers to the "Pow Wow" face, but to equate Native American speech with that of a Neanderthal is truly abhorrent. The ad copy reads like a cave man cliché.
The copy for Revlon's Sun Canyon Colors collection, meanwhile, erases the fact that land was outright stolen from Native Americans, instead opting for the narrative that the West was a "new frontier" to be "discovered". And let's not ignore the fact that the white model is appropriating Native garb as a costume.
Cutex seemed to be on a cultural appropriation streak in 1961.
Well-to-do, London-born Madeleine Mono made her entire cosmetics career off of a product she introduced in 1974 named Indian Eyes, a kajal pencil liner. Mono copied a genuine Indian formula she had purchased in an Indian-owned store in London, put it into pencil form, added a sizeable price markup and shopped it around to department stores. By 1981 the company had sold over 500,000 Indian Eyes pencils and was worth $8 million. I guess Mono couldn't get quite as rich if she had imported original ingredients from India or worked with an Indian business partner, so she opted for appropriation. Like white-owned brands that sell traditional Asian skincare tools, Mono really didn't have any business profiting off of Indian cosmetic practices in this manner. While there is a vast array of kajal pencils from non-Indian owned brands on the market these days, Mono's exotification of India made the product problematic, and while it's not her fault she was born in England, the whole operation smacks of British imperialism. (As a side note, I'd love a full history of how kohl and kajal pencils became normalized in the Western makeup world…but that's a project for another time.) The company also managed to branch into stereotyping Middle Eastern heritage with their Arabian Lights highlighters – shade names included Genie Gold and Bagdad Blue – and further mined Asian culture by releasing brushes with bamboo-shaped handles.
Around the same time, Mary Quant's Desert Chic collection similarly appropriated cultures from Middle Eastern countries.
So why do makeup companies engage in cultural appropriation? Obviously they're out to make money, but why was/is plundering various cultures such a common tactic, especially when there are other options available such as working with an artist or consultant who hails from that particular culture? I can think of a few reasons. One is the over-saturation of the cosmetics market. As noted in the Museum's post on Tattoo, so many brands and collections, companies seem to think that anything marketed as "exotic" will stand out from other products and catch the customer's eye. Second, the industry still misses the mark in terms of racial and cultural diversity in the U.S. The people responsible for creating and marketing collections aren't necessarily sensitive to cultural appropriation because the majority of them have never had to deal with it.
Another question is what to do with culturally appropriative objects and trends. Should they be purchased/participated in? On the one hand, it pains me to spend money on anything that's overtly bad and I certainly would not knowingly engage in an derogatory trend. On the other hand, basically all makeup is problematic on some level; it's a matter of which brands and influencers get exposed for their wrongdoings and the relative level of offensiveness. From a museum standpoint, I think it's necessary to discuss and display everything. If a museum is going to cover makeup from all eras and cultures, it has a responsibility to call attention to the bad along with the good. However, there's a line between educating museum visitors and traumatizing them. So more importantly than purchasing, how does a museum go about displaying and talking about the really awful stuff and acknowledging that the whole industry was built on racism and discrimination, worker exploitation, harmful ingredients, animal testing and the negative impact beauty packaging has on the planet, while also highlighting the things that aren't quite as egregious? I don't have an answer yet, but I hope to sort it out in the next MM Musings, which will discuss museums as agents of social change.
Anyway, it may be naivete on my part, but I believe makeup is moving in a positive direction with respect to cultural appropriation. The general public seems more aware of appropriation and in some cases, this leads to companies actually working to remove appropriative products from shelves and ads. Colourpop's Sandstone collection was repackaged after people spoke out about its questionable design, and in 2019 Fenty's Geisha Chic blush was pulled immediately from distribution and renamed. Nomad also shut down production of its Shanghai palette within days of revealing images of it and the ensuing backlash on social media. Arguably companies felt pulling a product hurt their bottom line less than a controversy, so they most likely removed or repackaged products to protect their reputation, not because they genuinely learned why they were wrong or felt any remorse. Still, makeup enthusiasts who are not industry professionals are now debating whether it's permissible to wear ancient Eyptian-inspired makeup as well as looks from a variety of cultures. Along those lines, over the past few years there's been more dialogue among consumers regarding collections and looks inspired by Lunar New Year and Day of the Dead celebrations. Slapping red packaging on a random product and marketing it for Lunar New Year, especially by a non-Asian brand that does not acknowledge the holiday's traditions or the larger Asian community, is a mindless cash grab. Some argue that the commodification of Lunar New Year can help raise awareness of Asian heritage, while some feel that any products sold specifically for the holiday are appropriation. (For the record, I'm still not sure of where I stand on this…I used to think the majority of LNY items were more cultural appreciation, but now I'm not sure. I know that in 2022 I purchased much less LNY makeup than in previous years because a lot of it was so uninspired and there were more non-Asian brands who don't even have a sizeable market in Asia releasing it, which didn't sit well with me.)
Cultural appropriation is still happening, of course, but anecdotal evidence suggests it does seem that people are more educated and speaking up. While it's going to be many more years before we don't see any instances of cultural appropriation or other more overtly racist collections and ads, it appears there's been infinitesimal improvement as compared to 2013. When I wrote part 1 of this post there were few major publications calling out cultural appropriation in the beauty sphere. Most of the links included in that article were from beauty bloggers who, like the Museum, had a relatively small following. But as of this writing, a quick Google search for "cultural appropriation cosmetics" shows at least 5 pages of articles by trade publications and mainstream media, including WWD, Brydie, Beauty Independent, and Teen Vogue. What needs to happen, as I've noted previously, is structural change. Until there is true diversity and inclusion at the upper echelons across the entire industry and major media outlets, there will still be cultural appropriation. One last point is that there's been significant growth of brands whose cultures have been ripped off. I don't think new makeup companies or products are a solution to cultural appropriation – the planet is drowning in beauty waste – but newcomers such as Prados and Florasis are helping raise awareness of their respective cultures while also reclaiming them from an industry that historically mistreated or ignored them. And I do think they contribute to structural change in the business in that they help offset the endless onslaught of white-centered brands, particularly those by celebrities. If there are new brands entering the scene, they should be culturally diverse.
Thoughts?
*Interestingly, a 1955 press photo for Arden's Eye Kohl was used on the cover of Kathy Peiss's Hope in a Jar.
As soon as I saw this adorable lip balm at various blogs I ordered it immediately from Sephora. It doesn't really get any cuter than this – a sparkly pink strawberry-scented lip balm in the shape of a flamingo pool float, plus a reference to one of the greatest films of the '90s?! Yes please.
Another precious detail is the flamingo-shaped "F" in Felicia.
Our mini Babo loved it and asked if I could fill the bathtub so he could take it for a proper spin.
That seems okay, until you realize that the "Bye Felicia" meme Taste Beauty is referencing with their lip balm may actually be a form of cultural appropriation in and of itself. Let's take a look at the original clip, which, if I'm being honest, still makes me laugh. (I also love Smokey's "remember it, write it down, take a picture, I don't give a fuck!" Classic.)
Impeccably delivered, it's a funny line that wasn't even in the script (apparently Ice Cube's son came up with it)…but as it turns out, Felisha is a crackhead. To a clueless white person such as myself, I thought she was simply an annoying, mooching neighbor. For "bye Felisha" to take off as a meme, I guess there were other people who accidentally (or perhaps intentionally) overlooked that aspect of Felisha's character. Or worse, many people using the meme were totally oblivious to the original source. As this article on white people's inappropriate use of black slang notes, "What’s amazing though is that over the last year [2015] or so, so many white people and non-black people have used [Bye Felicia] (as a sassy dismissal) without actually knowing where it’s from." Also, the spelling of Felisha's name morphed into "Felicia", I'm assuming to make it more palatable to white people. As Fayola Perry writes in XPress Magazine, "Cultural appropriation sanitizes and spreads lies about people's culture. It takes away the story of Felisha, the addict who represents and symbolizes so many black and brown women's struggle with drug addiction in that era and makes her a passing internet trend. This lack of attention to detail can perpetuate racist stereotypes. Someone may think they are paying homage to someone's culture and the person whose culture they're paying homage to is completely offended at the misrepresentation. Fear not, you can enjoy a great burrito if you are not Latino and do yoga if you're not Indian, but be thoughtful, check your privilege and be considerate of context and history. Everyone has some type of privilege, people of colour appropriate each other's cultures as well. We must all be mindful of our lens, other people's perspectives, the legacy of oppression and try our best to make sure that we are not continuing it. At the very least, know where the appropriated element came from and at the very, very least, spell her name right. It's Felisha, not Felicia."
So while I was overjoyed to see the phrase take off as a meme given how much I love Friday, turns out I should have been aware that it was a form of whitewashing, since it seems that the vast majority of people using it don't know where it originated. Or in my case, had no clue about the more serious implications of Felisha's character and her dismissal. In reading more about the history of the film and that scene in particular, I don't think anyone involved with Friday intended the phrase to be perceived as anything other than comic relief, but now I can see how it can be viewed as a microcosm of the bigger issue of black women's needs continually being ignored.
In turn, if we're arguing that the meme itself is a form of cultural appropriation, then the lip balm is as well, since it's directly referencing the meme and obviously not the original source. I mean, Felisha didn't wear makeup1, and flamingo-shaped pool floats didn't make an appearance in the film as far as I know – this lip balm really has nothing to do with Friday. A succinct reaction comes from this Twitter user: "It's time for black brands to start monetizing our shit. But we're not corny enough to slap bye Felicia on some lip balm all outta context." Blogger Aprill Colemanexplains further: "Felisha was an accurate representation of black culture in the early 90s on the heels of the crack epidemic. Taste Beauty’s use is completely out of context. Felisha is an African American, crack-addicted character that did not wear makeup, whereas Felicia is a brightly colored flamingo shaped like a pool float. A tiny part of my black American culture was appropriated, reinvented, and packaged into a strawberry scented balm for profit." Coleman also astutely points out that two of the three Taste Beauty founders are white men, so it's possible that the company, like so many others, wasn't fully aware of the phrase's origins; they just saw the meme and thought an alliterative novelty lip balm with the same name would be marketable. And if Taste Beauty did know where it came from and still wanted to go ahead with the product despite the potential for offensiveness, perhaps they could have donated a portion of the sales to Angie's Kids. This is a nonprofit founded by Angela Means, the actress who played Felisha, that focuses on health and early childhood development. (Side note: I would seriously love to get her thoughts on this. She seems okay with the phrase's popularity but I'm not sure about the lip balm.)
So where does that leave us? Well, on a personal level I feel like a jerk for buying it and also for not understanding, quite literally for the past 3 years, that the "Bye Felicia" meme was actually white people appropriating yet another piece of black culture – I honestly thought it was a widespread, '90s-nostalgia-fueled, long-overdue tribute to Ice Cube's legendary diss. As someone who sees herself as a feminist, which means being aware of the struggles of WOC, my ignorance is rather troubling.2 As for the item's inclusion in the Museum's collection, I will likely not display it unless I'm doing a more educational exhibition on cultural appropriation in cosmetics. In addition to the ads explored in my 2013 post on the topic, sadly there are tons more examplessince then that could be provided.
What do you think about all this? Have you seen Friday and if so, do you find the "bye Felisha" scene funny?
1 Interestingly, the actress who played Felisha cites the makeup artist on set as the one responsible for helping her fully inhabit Felisha's character. The somewhat haggard look was entirely intentional. She notes in an interview: "What was funny was when I got on set the makeup artist looked at me and she was like, ‘O.K.,’ and she kind of went with my look and when we got to the set (“Friday” director) F. Gary Gray looked at me and was like, ‘Whoa, whoa, wait, wait. She’s not a beauty queen.’ I give the makeup artist so much credit for helping me create Felisha…So when I got in the makeup artist’s chair, once Gary said, 'No, she’s a hoodrat,' we went back to the drawing board and I fell asleep. But when I woke up and saw myself, it clicked. It helped me go there."
2 Equally problematic is that I've been rewatching the clip and still think it's hilarious – proof that white privilege is real. I'm able to ignore the broader issue of dismissing black women and perceive "bye Felisha" as comedy. Save
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This recent post by Jonathan Walford, founding curator of the newly opened Fashion History Museum, briefly discusses some fashion collaborations that caused a stir due to their cultural insensitivity. It also spurred me to write about how the same issues exist in beauty marketing. (The many otherinstances of cultural appropriation in fashion and the "We're a culture, not a costume" campaign launched a few Halloweens ago were also caught in my mind.) Normally I like to avoid anything remotely controversial, but to fully explore cosmetics history sometimes it's necessary to take a look at the industry's dark side. I'll be using the fashion industry as a guide for this post, since cultural appropriation is conducted similarly in the beauty industry.
First, what is cultural appropriation? Entire books have been written on the subject, but in the context of fashion or makeup, it's when companies take a culturally important symbol or idea (usually of a non-dominant or marginalized group) and use it for profit rather than true cultural appreciation. In short, "when designers take
cultural styles and put them out of context, market them in a
disrespectful manner, or simply act without permission, this is cultural
appropriation." (You can read this excellent primer on the subject for more information). Cultural appropriation is marked by a failure to acknowledge the significance behind a cultural artifact or the reduction of a group to a harmful stereotype. It may not be quite as overt as out-and-out racism (like this sadly unforgettable 2012 Illamasqua ad or these Cibu hair products) which makes it hard to recognize at times.
Why is cultural appropriation a problem? Because it not only erases important cultural meanings and histories, it also directly ties into the larger issue of racism. As one fashion blogger writes, "I don't think the issue of institutional racism and discrimination can be completely divorced from the question of cultural appropriation. They feed into one another. One would not exist (at least not in the same way)
without the other…reducing an entire culture to a simple 'inspiration'
for your outfit, art project, fashion collection, or photoshoot is
disrespectful and unhelpful, especially when we look at the bigger
picture." I also think it speaks to the cluelessness and/or indifference of some beauty/fashion industry leaders, which, given that it's 2013, I find ridiculous – that lack of cultural unawareness is inexcusable, and given that they're clearly not doing their research on the culture they're appropriating, extremely lazy.
Now let's take a look at some examples of cultural appropriation in beauty ads from the past. I'm going to keep my comments on each one brief, since unfortunately there are a lot.
A 1940 ad for Coty's latest shade Tamale references "dark-hued" skintones – not necessarily in a perjorative sense, but it's problematic since not all "Latin-American" women have the skintone Coty describes.
These strike me as problematic due to their fetishisation of women in ancient Egyptian history, the watering-down of a culture to highly glamorized images, and the exoticising of non-Western cultures. Multiple companies participated in this last tactic as well. These ads for Revlon Persian Melon (1957), Dorothy Gray Jewel of India (1960), and Elizabeth Arden Sheik lipstick (1963) present a strong othering through the depiction of a variety of Middle Eastern cultures while at the same time using Western-looking models – I suppose to make these faraway places to seem, as one of the ads suggests, "mystic" rather than threatening.
This idea of non-Western cultures as "exotic" curiosities is persists today, although perhaps it's not quite as blatant. Take, for example, this ad for Catrice's summer 2013 collection. The first part of the ad copy reads, "African appeal: colourful, traditional, exotic."
Another feature of cultural appropriation, or at least, insensitivity, is the lumping together of distinct groups without recognizing their unique characteristics. I'm a bit embarrassed to say I own a lipstick from MAC's 2008 Style Warrior collection and have actually used it in an exhibition. Not only does the ad copy mention stereotypes ("Amazonian Princess, African Queen, Crouching Tigress"), it combines all the discrete cultures from whence they came. I frankly don't care that they tried to justify this with the word "cross-cultural".
There's a similar issue with this Art Deco ad for their summer 2013 collection. The ad copy says that it's inspired by the "amazing colors and warmth of Africa". One could argue that this isn't really cultural appropriation because the inspiration is so vague and doesn't reference a specific people within the continent, but at the same time that very fact is troubling – does the model accurately represent how all African women dress? I guess it's not supposed to and simply be evocative of Africa as a whole, but it looks like a costume some marketing director dreamed up.
The Art Deco ad brings me to my next point. One of the biggest offenders in cultural appropriation within beauty advertising is the use of exclusively white models to represent a non-white culture, like this ad for indie brand Lime Crime's Chinadoll collection from 2012.
Two beauty bloggers have expressed quite well all the things wrong with this ad, so I won't rehash it here. I will say that, as the others have pointed out, it basically reinforces some very negative stereotypes.
And sometimes, the company is so lazy it doesn't even point to which
culture it's ripping off. This was my frustration with Pupa's China Doll collection (which, as I revisit it, seems to align with Lime Crime's offenses), and Marcelle's Riviera Maya collection. Then there's also Essence's "Tribal Summer" collection this year, which confuses Aztec culture with Native Americans.
The ad copy: "Tribal dance! The new essence trend edition “tribal summer” ensures a
stylish mix of patterns, trendy Aztec prints and cool tribal designs in
warm colors like orange, pink, red, purple, lilac, copper and gold to
spread the pure feeling of summer. This trend edition offers lots of
must-haves for all urban squaws. These include our popular pigments in
bright colors, longlasting lipsticks and a bronzing powder with a tribal
embossment. The absolute highlight is the tip painter set so you can
create THE nail trend of the summer – Aztec nails – on your nails. And
there are also cool nail feathers and a feather hair extension for the
ultimate tribal look!" I'm not really sure how you get from tribal to Aztec to "squaws" back to Aztec and finally back to feathers.
In 2010 there was a collection that was considered so offensive it was pulled even before it could hit the shelves (good job, beauty bloggers!) The fashion label Rodarte collaborated with MAC for a collection inspired by the city of Juarez, Mexico: specifically, the bloodshed from the city's drug wars and the innumerable women who have disappeared served as a point of departure for Rodarte's fall 2010 collection, and was the foundation for the MAC collaboration. The product names included Ghost Town and Factory, while the promo image…well, it speaks for itself.
Long story short, after a huge public outcry the collection was not distributed for sale to MAC stores. (The Awl has a great piece describing the whole debacle.) I think what bothered me most wasn't that the Mulleavy sisters were ignorant to the situation in Juarez; rather, they had actually visited the town and decided to romanticize the women workers waiting in lines for their factory jobs in the middle of the night. Essentially, they directly used the suffering of the people of Juarez to sell clothes and makeup.
Now that we've seen some obvious examples of cultural appropriation in beauty ads, let's talk about how one can determine cultural appropriation. Looking at the Makeup Museum's collection, there are some pieces that walk the very fine line between appreciation and appropriation. What makes some okay and some not? As one author points out, "The former is acceptable when designers
or companies create completely unique items that are only inspired by
cultures, not direct imitations…it’s important
for companies to understand the importance of a certain object, pattern,
design, or idea to a culture before using it." More guidelines are offered by Fordham law professor Susan Scafidi: "Consider the 3 S's: source, significance (or sacredness), and similarity.
Has the source community either tacitly or directly invited you to
share this particular bit of its culture, and does the community as a
whole have a history of harmful exploitation? What's the cultural
significance of the item — is it just an everyday object or image, or is
it a religious artifact that requires greater respect? And how similar
is the appropriated element to the original — a literal knockoff, or
just a nod to a color scheme or silhouette?" These are important things for me to consider moving forward.
I do think there's a benefit to cosmetics companies borrowing from various cultures or groups – it brings that culture a little closer to those who might not be able to experience it firsthand in a way that's different from other means. As scholar Johanna Blakeley writes, "Like other art forms, fashion is a powerful conduit for cultural
diplomacy, translating the aesthetics of one nation or culture to people
in far-away places who wouldn’t necessarily have had the occasion to
think about that other world. What’s unique about fashion as an
aesthetic object is that it’s something you wear: it provides the
opportunity for an extremely intimate connection with a foreign
perspective and it gives people the opportunity to literally walk in the
shoes of another culture. The fact that fashion design elements can be
sampled quite freely makes it even more likely that cross-cultural
communication can occur…at the very least, in the form of fashion
trends." I think the same can be said for makeup.
As long as companies put some thought into these types of collections and not be insensitive to the cultures they're celebrating, that they can successfully launch a collection inspired by a particular group. (One of the best examples of cultural appreciation, rather than appropriation, that immediately came to mind was NARS's 2011 Modern Kabuki collection.) And while some companies may remain indifferent or unaware of how their next collection may be perceived, others recognize their previous missteps, demonstrating that redemption is possible.
That was long! If you made it this far, thank you. And I'd love to hear your thoughts.
(images from beautycrazed.ca and beautyalmanac.com)
(image from temptalia.com)
