I recently had a skin scan that revealed the 'true age' of my complexion. I expressed concern before leaning into the photographic chamber – I'd just come home from an extended trip (sun, salt, wine and simple carbs made up the itinerary) and was convinced the results would exceed my actual age of 30. The clinician asked me if I wanted to opt out. I said no, and the machine showed 27. It felt like a triumph.
She went on to tell me my skin was perfectly healthy, despite me going on and on about my pigmentation. Beyond healthy, it was youthful. Why so quick to point out the flaws?
There's a phenomenon that speaks to this and feelings like it: skin dysmorphia, where the way we perceive our skin is warped. We've forgotten what skin – real skin – actually looks like. We see 'flaws', but what we're actually looking at (pores, scars, lines) is normal.
We can probably trace some of this back to traditional fashion magazines and advertising, but more notably social media. The fashion industry has always sold us glossy, airbrushed pipe dreams that social media masquerades as real. People we know share their 'everyday' lives. But it's often filtered, manipulated or one-sided. Skin is clear, even, smooth. Lips are plush. Brows are fluffy, lines are minimal. Maybe there's a smattering of freckles... but the cute kind, not the sun damage kind.
Of course, this is driven by celebrities and public figures as well. They're aspirational and perpetually beautiful. They tell us it's 'olive oil', 'water', 'lip liner' and 'genetics'... It's not always completely honest, a lot of major celebrities rely on surgical and cosmetic procedures to remain ageless. Aesthetic beauty is Hollywood's trading currency. But this feeds the narrative that everyone looks perfect all the time. It warps the ways in which we determine good skin or 'natural beauty'. Though this kind of 'beauty' is not indicative of how we actually look, but how we see ourselves and others in the paradigm of beauty standards.
Skincare as an industry has made some progress – less retouching, and the success of progressive brands like StarFace who disillusion historically taboo concerns such as acne – but the normalisation of cosmetic surgeries and 'tweakments' is at odds with the shift.
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Skin dysmorphia can also be connected to perception drift, where someone looses sight of their appearance, especially after a cosmetic procedure. Post filler for example, it's not just our physical face that changes, but the evaluation process of how we look. The 'before' becomes unrecognisable or intolerable. 'Fixing things' gets addictive — as soon as one feature is improved, another problem comes up. For some people, this quest to be more beautiful is exhausting, fruitless and obsessive. You might remember in 2023 that the Medical Board of Australia introduced a compulsory mental health assessment for those undergoing cosmetic medical or surgical procedures. It was to determine that those undergoing such procedures were of sound mind, and not experiencing dysmorphia when it came to their looks.
While perception drift was coined in the context of cosmetic and surgical procedures, it's applicable in a way to makeup (especially in the current zeitgeist where clean girls and bare faces rule). What appears to be a bare face is actually nine artfully applied products. A look that says 'I'm not wearing makeup' is actually a lot of makeup. It's all completely fine, but we need to recognise these things for what they are. I don't wear a lot of makeup by normal standards, but I'd never leave the house without filling my eyebrows. And I bet if I did, the only person that would notice the difference – the gap in my left eyebrow – would be me.
There's a part of me that thinks skin dysmorphia comes down to humility or self-deprecation. Is it just an attempt at politeness? It's hard to accept a compliment at the best of times. But this behaviour could also be a byproduct of the need to live chronically online, not to mention the beauty industry's need to sell us products. Beauty is a business after all and low self esteem is very good for its bottom line.
A few weeks ago, a close friend reached out to me in anguish, asking what she could buy to fix her breakouts. When I met her for lunch a few days later, I could hardly make out a spot. She assured me that her skin was in fact acting out and had 'never looked so bad'. I'm definitely guilty of this myself. I hyper-fixate and pick things apart. I think it's very reasonable to care about the way we look and present ourselves, but what's problematic is when we're benching against impossible standards. I think this is why Pamela Anderson's stance on a makeup free fashion week hit so hard. Yes she went on to launch a skincare brand, but, food for thought.
I believe in skin health and self care. I think it's important to feel good in your body. But pore-less, ageless, spotless skin isn't conducive to real life. Pores and lines are literal proof that we're alive. We deserve to feel confident, but we also deserve to know what we're looking at, and to know exactly what's being sold to us as 'beautiful'.
