On The Regression of Black Beauty Standards

Beauty is not monolithic, but why does it feel that way?

Hey y’all,

My group chat has been buzzing lately about the Talitha Jane influencer drama, have y’all heard about it?

In a nutshell, people are accusing her of making content that is “male-centered,” getting closer to God to find a man, and for moving to a city she hates under the guise of “God told me to do it,” when really it was for a man she was in a situationship with who she learned was cheating as soon as she got there. Whewwww, that was a mouthful! I don’t know Talitha from Adam, but I do feel sorry for all the hate she’s receiving. Going on a spiritual journey while in the public eye, all while still making mistakes and being bamboozled while trying to find love, is not for the weak!

This has sparked a conversation in my group chats about single women who get to their late 20s/early 30s and begin “turning to God” as a way to, in their minds, attract men. I have noticed a few creators whom I’ve followed for years all of a sudden decide they’re going to start dressing modestly, become more judgemental about “secular” activities, and mention finding their Boaz more than once in videos. *Side eye* but who are we to judge? That’s God’s job.

PS: I just launched a new Substack! I’ll be sharing travel musings, things I’m learning and loving, and how I’m navigating Black womanhood in the 30s, give it a subscribe! This little intro space is cute, but I needed a little more space to divulge my thoughts, and y’all know this letter is for my lovely writers to do their thing. I’ll be publishing soon, and when I do—see you there?

This Week’s Story

The time has come to wrap up our package on Beauty (check out the archives if you missed any stories from the series), and our themed stories series! Hit these links for easy access to Letting Go, How To Love, and Blooming Unconventionally. This week we have LA-based writer Melody Simpson with a look at how beauty standards have changed from the ‘99s to the ‘00s to the ‘20s, and whether they are harmful or helpful for future generations. Enjoy!

Take care,

Anayo

The Venn Diagram of Looking Good & Feeling Good 

by Melody Simpson

When I was a kid, women’s magazines and teen magazines did a number on my self esteem. I was always a voracious reader, and I took the opportunity to subscribe to or buy any and every magazine that I could get my hands on with my allowance. After school, I’d get off the bus and race to the mailbox, tripping over my own feet trying to get to my room. I’d blast Z100, or the latest album release that TRL promoted, into the ground. I’d spread my magazines out on the floor and pore over the pages for hours. 

Some magazines were age-appropriate. J-14. Teen. Teen People. Seventeen. Elle Girl. M. Popstar! Others were indirectly geared towards me, just waiting for me to come of age to really depend on them. Self. Women’s Health. Allure. Elle. InStyle. Vogue. Marie Claire. Cosmopolitan. All of these made their way into the mix as the years went on. And on and on, the magazines came and went like clockwork.

Every month, I would lay out and read every single page on the carpet floor. I soaked in every ad, gawking at the beauty captured on each page. I knew that photos could be edited, but I truly didn’t know the depths of it. 

I was in awe. 

If only, I thought. I don’t have to be perfect because many of these models are far from what I imagined perfect to be. But if I could at least have the self-esteem of a model, I thought. Look half as good, I pondered. With this in mind, I found myself enrolling in the Barbizon School of Modeling, an international development school teaching young men and women how to be models and actors (for a small fee, of course), when I was in elementary school. All the girls in my Barbizon class were beautiful, inside and out, and I hope they know that. But past me? She didn’t realize until adulthood how much permission she was handing over to society and the media to show her how to be beautiful.

Unfortunately, Barbizon and modeling schools like it teach children how to put makeup on and take it off, but not how to take care of their bodies. Thank God for how far we’ve come in this regard. Beauty is more than makeup, catwalks, and striking poses. Beauty is more than drinking whatever recommended amount of water you’ve been told to drink, and steps you’ve been told to take. We focus solely on the outward while the inward remains all but forgotten. But there’s only so long until the rose-colored glasses come off. 

I went to Barbizon with zero intentions of pursuing a modeling career. But it gave me a self-esteem boost at a time in my life when I thought I needed it. I know that not everyone went in with their guard up or with people around them affirming them in all things. We were all searching for something within the pages of those magazines. Those classes, little did we know, were trying to sell us what was already within us. 

Societal influence on the self-worth of millennials began in magazines and with celebrity influencers. Then, the pressure graduated to reality TV, in the form of America’s Next Top Model, which ran for almost two decades. Today, the existence of print magazines continues to dwindle year after year. But reality TV fans have the Kardashians to watch, along with a host of beauty YouTubers and TikTokers to follow. For a while, celebrity influence seemed to have died down. But with everyone trying to glow up during the pandemic, it now feels like a game of Where’s Waldo? as you search for authenticity amongst the sea of celebrities using Ozempic, getting veneers, or going under the knife for BBLs and facial reconstruction surgery. 

People had to spend a lot of time with themselves during the pandemic. Many people with influence chose to use their voices during this time to empower women, encouraging them to use this time to become their best selves mentally, spiritually, and emotionally—beyond the restraining box of physical beauty. But over time, the pandemic’s safe online spaces for entertainment, learning, and empathy, became taken over by things like TikTok Shop and Instagram Shopping. After all, you can’t have consumerism without giving people unrealistic standards of beauty to chase. And with that, women supporting women, authenticity supporting authenticity felt like it came and went with the blink of an eye. It always does. Why is that?

The thing about beauty is that it starts from within. It is free. They want to profit off of our image, but ignore our dollar until one of us with influence does something about it. They want to sell us the same lies as everyone else, ignoring the fact that beauty is not monolithic.

I repeat.

Beauty is not monolithic.

Social media’s evolution has given beauty marketing a reset, but not in a good way. The regression of beauty standards and erasure of Black beauty until people saw dollar signs is so dangerous for for future generations, and we must do everything in our power to fight against this beauty time warp, not just for them but for everyone who comes after them. Say “no” to the magazine How-To Guides, diet culture language, blog listicles, and overpriced, overglamorized YouTube beauty hauls that don’t show makeup in your shade anyway. Don’t get me started on how the beauty industry ignored Black women until 2017 when Rihanna came and served us what we’ve wanted this entire time.

It’s truly a beautiful thing when you’ve had your water, decompressed from a great therapy session, and visited your local esthetician for a monthly session. You’ve taken a walk outside in the fresh air, put on that lipstick that makes you feel badass, and met up with a friend. You’ve listened to a chapter of a banned book on your way home from brunch and the Lexapro pharmacy pick-up. Now you’re sitting down to watch an episode of Bailey Sarian’s Murder Mystery & Makeup series. 

It’s a blessing to be able to show up for yourself in more ways than one. And holding space to realize that we are all uniquely beautiful is life-changing. If you need to hear it, this is it. This is your permission to break free from the lies that social media and society as a whole are trying so desperately to get you to hold onto. 

The scams aren’t always as obvious as fashion schools that prey on insecure children or morally unethical fast fashion brands. Sometimes the greatest lies are the ones we tell ourselves. I challenge you to examine the relationship between what you consume on Beyonce’s internet and how you see yourself. Recognize bad patterns, create necessary boundaries, and see the beauty in your wholeness. Your smile. Your laugh. Your talent is a gift so unique to you. Your passions. Your stretch marks. Your imperfections. Your fridge with the food that you paid money for with your job. Your strength, and your voice. You. And when you are well in mind, body, and spirit…whoo!

You’re glowing. You are beautiful.

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Melody Simpson is the Founder of Melanin in YA, a database for all things Black in traditional young adult publishing. She is the co-editor of the nonfiction anthology, WRITING IN COLOR: 14 WRITERS ON THE LESSONS WE’VE LEARNED. Her short story, "The Guardrail Disappears," can be seen in the feminist horror anthology, BETTY BITES BACK: STORIES TO SCARE THE PATRIARCHY, edited by Mindy McGinnis, Demetria Lunetta, and Kate Karyus Quinn. Melody is from New Jersey and currently splits her time between Austin, TX and Los Angeles, California.