Monday, October 31, 2011

Hope in a Jar Essay

Lani Barry

History of Make Up

Professor Hewitt

Hope In A Jar

Manufacturing ‘Pretty’

Beauty culture, then, should be understood not only as a type of commerce but as a system meaning that helped women navigate the changing conditions of modern social experience. (Peiss, 6)

Kathy Peiss’s Hope In A Jar: The Making of America’s Beauty Culture’, is a wonderfully thorough account of how the cosmetics industry developed in the United States. A journey from the humble beginnings of ancestral homemade herbal remedies, to the thousands of skincare and makeup options available to women today, it’s a detailed education on how ‘beauty’ has always apart of our world. The story differs by each generation, race, and gender, but it offers a unique perspective on what constituted cosmetics, how entrepreneurs began offering products, and how marketing changed over time.

In the beginning, makeup was ‘paint’, and it rarely had a home in the lives of women. Cosmetics were herbal concoctions, elixirs, and creams to take care of skin conditions that arose in day-to-day life. These recipes were kept in booklets compiled by generations of women, passing them onto their daughters so that they would be well versed in the medicinal effects of plants and herbs. Maintaining the health of the family was a responsibility of a wife, and the recipe booklets kept accumulated knowledge on botany that could cure a variety of maladies.

‘Paint’ was for two opposite ends of the spectrum; prostitutes and the wealthy. The concept that true beauty was obtained through purity of heart and spirit was a common theme from the puritans to the Victorian era. A glowing countenance was symbolic of a good-natured soul, and only deceptive women trying to manipulate others (such as prostitutes or social-climbing women) used powder, rogue, and other paints. On the other hand, the upper classes used paints for self-expression and socially navigating in court, especially when it was in fashion to be painted.

By the late 1800’s face powders, face creams, and skin treatments began to become available commercially. Following the beauty ideal of youthful, Caucasian pale skin and rosy cheeks, women often applied cosmetics that contained dangerous toxins and grievously injured them. Mixtures that once were a woman’s domain, male-run companies and druggists began to offer similar cosmetics. The inception of said skin creams and treatments had originally begun in the kitchens of women, and were now available to those who did not have access to homemade treatments.

Male perspective and involvement in beauty culture is a reoccurring topic in ‘Hope in a Jar’. Each decade readdresses the perception men had on cosmetics as a shallow symbol of vanity and deceitful. 19th Century literature criticized the ‘enameling studio’ and the rogues and powders worn by women. Public application of makeup in the 1920’s caused a riot. The mirror compact, powdering noses, mascara, and varieties of lipstick were all wielded in public venues as women no longer feared being made-up. During World War Two, women were chided for their extravagance in demanding lipstick – especially when resources and materials were scarce. It’s as if men had always found makeup a petty indulgence, preferring ‘natural beauty’ and rejecting cosmetics that might inhibit their biological ability to obtain a physically desirable mate.

Despite the clear aversion to the use of makeup, men still managed to maintain a steady control over the industry of cosmetics. Ponds, Noxema, and Max Factor were male manufacturers and developers of cosmetics and makeup. Male inventors and chemists’ also created familiar names such as Maybelline and L’Oreal, many of which have men as their CEO’s and board chairman’s today. Due to prevalent sexism in business, companies that started as small mail-order operations or beauty centers founded by women were susceptible to being overtaken by men.

Women often struggled with husbands or relatives for control of their companies. The marriages of [Madam C.J.] Walker and [Annie Turnbo] Malone ended in divorce over business conflicts; Harriet Hubbard Ayer’s ex-husband and daughter charge her with mismanagement, committed her to an asylum, and assumed control of the company. (Peiss, 71)

A personal interpretation on these idea is that it wasn’t personal – it was just business. Regardless of how men really felt about the use of cosmetics, the beauty would continue to thrive if there was money to be made in a prevailing market. Male-run companies developed marketing techniques where they would rely on female consultants to give light on how to approach female buyers. Through the use of magazine ads, radio ads, and promotional sales girls at the cosmetic counters, men had managed to target their audience by fabricating the intimate sense of a female community. They were able to tap into the desires women had for beauty, marriage, and romance to sell sets of creams and makeup products.

The allure of obtainable wealth and glamour was always a vehicle for marketing. Despite pulling herself out of economic hardship as an immigrant, Elizabeth Arden chose to market her line of cosmetics and makeup exclusively, only selling her products in the most elite of stores. Movie stars and wealthy socialites were used in promotional ads, advocating and endorsing their use of specific products – even if they didn’t use them. Kathy Peiss wrote; “Increasingly the ad agency turned to European aristocrats and American socialites whose celebrity derived simple from their wealth and standing”. (137)

While men in the business may have not contemplated the psychological reasons for a woman to ‘make herself up’, newspaper cartoons and editorials early 20th century publications reveal letters by ordinary men, who were confounded by their wives and girlfriends need to partake in beauty rituals (such as the cartoon by W.E. Hill on page 179 titled ‘Make-Up’.) Some men had prevailing thoughts on how makeup use was a sign of a woman’s deceiving nature, some thought women only painted to please or compete with their female peers, yet many women engaged in a beautifying ritual for self-satisfaction.

Makeup continued to be understood by many men as the mark of women’s artificiality and guile. Writing to the Seattle Union Record, Marco B. called it a “method of seeking satisfaction…by falseness and deception” and “a confession of women’s shallowness and incapacity.” In response, cosmetics-using women translated the signs of artifice into the language of artistry. (Peiss, 180)

In these early days of cosmetics, women were taking their independence into their own hands by challenging social norms with the use of makeup. At the same time, male use of cosmetics was interpreted as feminine, and a man who partook in a grooming regiment was perceived as a ‘fop’ or a ‘dandy’. After the Second World War, everything began to shift in a different direction.

Suddenly coping with the loss of their wartime employment, and the return of their husbands and male relatives, women were ushered back into the home. The attained independence became reversed, 1950’s culture of the docile housewife prevailed and women began to grow listless. Along with marriage and family, achievement of femininity became the projected ideal for women. Mixed messages of wholesomeness and subtle sexuality appeared in cosmetic marketing, luring women into the fantasy of makeup with the promise of attainable beauty. As Kate Peiss said, “The answer lay not in seeking educational and employment opportunities, […] but in a ‘wonderful escape’ into the fantasy world of feminine beauty.” (248)

For men, the military experience of the war had introduced an entire generation to standard grooming practices. Men began to shave regularly, use cologne or aftershave, deodorant, facial cleansing products, lip balm, and some even used makeup such as mascara to shape and define lashes and brows. Attempts during the 1920s and Great Depression of the 1930’s had failed to market the use of cosmetics and toiletries to men as anything less than feminine. Even catchy masculine names of products and catchphrases (“Lets NOT Join The Ladies”, 165 & 166) still hadn’t managed to gain the respect of men. Using manly scents and packaging design, they placated to men by playing up the masculinity of the heterosexual male.

Business week reported in 1953. Its survey found that men shaved on average five times a week, much more regularly than before the war; half used aftershave, and over one-third used deodorant – a figure the magazine called “startling”. (Peiss, 255)

For every chapter in ‘Hope in a Jar’ that focuses on a particular theme, there is a thorough examination of the African-American experience. Regardless of the decade in which cosmetics and makeup were developing, the desirable standard of beauty was that of a youthful white female with pale skin. Hair straightening with hot irons and lye, and the use of facial bleachers was a constant topic of debate for African-American beauty. After only a few decades of having attained freedom from slavery, the black community was now faced with having to conform to white standards of beauty in order to progress socially.

Lighter skinned women who could pass as Creole or European had an easier time gaining employment or finding a husband, as opportunities only became available to those who were closer to the white standard of beauty. Early cosmetic ads for facial bleachers that were marketed to white women, showed drastic before-and-after illustrations of the product’s ability to turn what appeared to be a rustic black woman to a refined white lady. Victorian publications by the African American community that discussed ‘The New Negro Woman’ still showed illustrations of women with smaller facial features and straightened hair.

Similar facial-bleach products that were manufactured for African Americans by white company owners often damaged the skin, causing disfiguration, burns, and peeling off layers of skin. These companies often did not even employ African Americans, and they rebuked any claims the Black community laid against them for experimenting on their people with hazardous products.

Annie Turnbo, Sarah Breedlove, and Madam C.J. Walker are just few of the women mentioned who pioneered cosmetic products and business on their own, progressing from mail-order and word of mouth promotions to beauty salons, eventually growing in to empires that in turn worked to elevate the African American community.

Advocating Christian principles in business, both walker and Malone dedicated themselves to black social welfare and community building, including industrial education, recreational programs, and charitable giving. (Peiss, 93)

These women advocated against the use of facial bleaches, to lighten the skin was to deny African roots. There was no shame in their African ancestry, and these women looked to redefine their society’s perceptions on beauty. Instead of promoting the straightening of their hair, hair care was emphasized. Breakage, scalp dryness, and management of brittle hair were a concern for many women. With their products such as ‘Wonderful Hair Grower’ and ‘Poro’, the maintaining of healthy ethnic hair was possible without resorting to destroying it with lye.

After decades of avoiding creating cosmetics for anyone outside the white demographic, it eventually became imperative for the cosmetics industry to recognize African Americans when marketing to the masses. However, when producing facial powders in varieties of darker shades, the packaging imagery and product names still steered away from blacks. The women depicted on the packaging of Nile Queen products were illustrated to look middle-eastern, with lighter skin tones and waves of silky hair. Even one of the 1924 ads for Madam C. J. Walker’s toiletries had a woman with long hair and small European features.

Cosmetic companies, newspapers, magazines, and universities began showcasing their definitions for a modern, successful, and beautiful black woman. Beauty pageants for African American women became popularized, yet the finalists of the contests all possessed lighter skin tones and wavy hair.

It seems the changing point for women of every race was in the 1960’s and 1970’s, when the cultural norms for and beauty standards were publicly questioned and advocated against by the women’s liberation movement. For a period women used less cosmetics, and rejected beauty wares that suggested conformity.

Cosmetics have come along way. A tube of lipstick can represent social freedom or chains of a gender role. A tub of cold cream isn’t just a facial cleanser, but the ancestor to all the products contemporary women use to define themselves by. Whether we’re men or women, black or white, we’ve all been confronted with these regulations of beauty and normalcy. A magazine ad or enticing package, marketing promises to give us what we’re missing to achieve what we want. Out of all Kathy Peiss 270 pages of captivating history, one particular segment has stayed with me:

Women reported as early as the 1930’s that advertising and social pressures to be attractive lowered their self-esteem. (Peiss, 6)

Therefore, if cultural concepts of beauty are simply a business, and that women use it to maneuver through the ever-changing guidelines of what is ‘en vogue’, then our human need for acceptance and validation hasn’t changed at all throughout history - just the packaging.

Citations used:

Peiss, Kathy. Hope in a Jar: The Making of America's Beauty Culture. New York: Henry Holt and Company Inc., 1998. 6-255. Print.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Hope in a Jar: Introduction and Chapter One

'Hope in a Jar: The Making of America's Beauty Culture' arrived last week, along with my other 2 textbooks which I'm super excited to read.

In the introduction, Kathy Peiss tells the store of the 1930's lipstick marketing campaign for 'Hussy' and 'Lady' colors, and how for the first time women could choose to label themselves by the cosmetics they purchased. I was amazed to read that 'Hussy' lipstick sales outnumbered 'Lady' immensely, and I was also amused that women wanted to embrace their inner 'hussy', when for thousands of years men had been labeling painted women as such.
It's a bit off topic, but I began to contemplate the marketing industries of today that pretty much do the same thing. Women will buy anything that says 'sexy' or 'slutty', completely embracing the idea of being a sexual object. Halloween is coming up, and all the costumes for women my age are basically stripper outfits. Was 'Hussy' lipstick marketing the beginning of encouraging us to ratify our inner strumpet?

I appreciated the next point addressed, because it tackled the misconception that the cosmetic industry and beauty culture was somehow pushed by men, or men forcing it on women. Apparently some feminists believe this to be true because manipulating women's insecurities to sell makeup products would only be a diabolical plan concocted by a man. She quotes Naomi Wolf from The Beauty Myth;

"And the act of beautifying, though it seems enticing and freely chosen, is really compulsory work, so narcissistic, time-consuming, and absorbing as to limit women's achievements."

Bwa ha ha. Absolutely sinister. But the chapter continues on to explain that cosmetics have actually belonged to women throughout history. Even prior to the middle ages, women were responsible to be thoroughly versed in gardening, herbology, medicinal recipes, and concoctions for skin treatments. Either through oral tradition or collected into guide books, women handed down the information to their daughters and it continued on for generations.

Women often compiled their own recipe books and passed them on to their daughters. Scattered among food recipes and medical formulas were instructions for compounding cosmetics. (Peiss, 13)

However, 'cosmetics' usually would refer to skin wash, cream, or beautifying treatment. 'Paint's began to connote something else entirely. Painting the face represented two kinds of women, the upper class and the lowest of classes.

The wealthy classes of aristocrats were the leaders of fashionable style and the first to afford the cosmetics. In Europe, Louis XIV of France and his entire court sported outlandish powdered wigs, painted faces, and elaborate fashions. In the east, the wealthy Japanese nobles powdered their faces white, and blackened their teeth (a practice called Ohaguro) until 1870. When cosmetics became more readily available, fashions in painting the face trickled down to the lower classes.

One trend that stayed constant in many cultures through the centuries was the virtuous and chaste woman. To paint the face was to be false, and deceit was sinful, leading the woman down the path to moral corruption. A powdered face, painted lips, and rouged cheeks became synonymous with prostitutes. More specifically, it expressed that a woman had vanity and interests that laid in areas other than raising children and wifely duties, which was a woman's sole purpose.

Women who used their wits and beauty to gain advantage in the marriage market, wives more interested in dress than motherhood, and - the conclusive sign of female degradation - women who frequented both the enameler's studio and the abortionist's clinic. (Peiss, 28)

The Puritans wrote against the falsities of paints for it's altering God's creation. English Parliament in 1770 annulled marriages if the wife used cosmetics, heels, or clothing to ensnare the husband. By the 19th century a clear complexion, white skin, and natural beauty was desirable. It also seperated the middle class from the upper and lower classes, who still used paints and fashion accessories to alter their appearance. The decadence of outlandish makeup and fashion of the aristocracy were criticized for their vanity and vices.

Towards the end of the chapter, cosmetics became essential in the distinction of race, specifically separating the whites from the blacks. African Americans used many kinds of hair straighteners and treatments to lighten their skin complexions, meanwhile the whites would use a variety of creams and cosmetics to keep their skin from darkening. Slaves would get brutally beaten if caught mimicking the cosmetic practices of whites (yet how long did it take us to get rid of minstrel shows?), and racist advertising for creams and ointments would show the difference in complexions from the African Americans to the desirable white skin of a lady.

So the questions I have at the end of this post is, where did the desire to become pale come from? Many countries from Ancient Greece, China, and India all have promoted this ideal of the pale skinned woman? Is it simply that pale = aristocracy, and that it was the working classes who had darkened skin? When did this concept change? After all, we seem to promote a sporty tanned look nowadays, because having a tan means you have time to lounge outside in the sun on boats or private beaches.

Lastly, this segment from the introduction got me thinking:
Women reported as early as the 1930's that advertising and social pressures to be attractive lowered their self-esteem. Others, however, boldly applied their lipsticks in public and asserted their right to self-creation through the "makeover" of self-image. (Peiss, 6)

Everyone wants to be valued, whether that be through beauty, intelligence, and wealth, so have women been dealing with self-esteem issues since the dawn of time? Does advertising exacerbate the issue? Or does cosmetics give us the tool to change how we appear, thus making us feel better?

Sources used:

Collia-Suzuki, Gina. "Ohaguro - Beautiful Blackened Smiles." GinaCollia-Suzuki.com. Gina Collia-Suzuki., 2008 - 2011. Web. 18 Oct 2011.

And Sold, Old. "Dress During Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI 1643-1789." Old and Sold. Old and Sold, 1926. Web. 18 Oct 2011. Hope in a Jar: The Making of America's Beauty Culture. New York: Henry Holt and Company Inc., 1998. Print.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Early Cosmetics in China

JSTOR listed an article called "The Early History of Lead Pigments and Cosmetics in China", published in the journal T'oung Pao, and I read up on some of the makeup practices of the ancient Chinese.

From page 413 to page 418 is a recap of various ores and metals whose discovery and uses were recorded. The uses for these metals were not cosmetic, and it isn't until page 419 when their use for makeup began.

First documented in the 6th century, a ruler of the Northern Chou kingdom required the ladies of his court to have yellow painted brows. There is a bit of discrepancy from where the practice originates, as northern nomadic women have been known to paint their faces golden to replicated the statues of Buddha (Buddhism entered China around 688 CE), yet poets from the T'ang Dynasty (June 18, 618 CE – June 1, 907 CE) recorded that it was fashionable amongst women to have yellow foreheads.
The yellow forehead paint was most likely derived from massicot (lead-oxide), because other cosmetic products were being compiled out of lead during this time, but sulfur and pastes made from vegetables are also a contender for the yellow paint's ingredients.

The article continues on to discuss when cinnabar, other kinds of lead, and ochre began to appear in Chinese/Japanese architecture, paintings, and described in writing.

Page 425 talks about how lead appears in red cosmetics for Chinese women, but once again the documentation of the lead contexts is being debated. Writings by poets allude to the rouge being comprised of minium, safflower, and vermillion, nothing about lead appears in the poems. Pink powders were also referenced in Chinese poems, sometimes used to indicate a woman or a courtesan. While the term hung chi'en or 'pink lead' appears in one of the poems, it could be a reference to safflower, mixed with a white rice powder or white ceruse (white lead).

Poetry about women often make use of the expression hung-fen, "pink powder". This often becomes even a metaphor for 'woman' or 'courtesan'. It occurs, for instance, in one of the well known "Nineteen Ancient Poems. (Schafer, 426)

The contradiction on whether the makeup was comprised from lead, or less toxic ingredients, all boils down to the translation. There seems to be a discrepancy from the perspective of scientists, who can document when certain metals were available and manufactured for such uses in China, meanwhile the poets who recorded their uses never specifically describe a lead ingredient, unlike the Romans.

The Romans and Chinese used the same mixture of white lead and vinegar. There are a few translations to this mixture, which entirely depended on who, what, and when the uses of the make up was being recorded:
powdered tin
dissolved tin
lead powder
flower of lead
fixed powder
tile powder
white powder
shining powder
watery powder
official powder
powder of Ch'en
powder of Shao
and powder of Kuei.

Alchemists recorded experimentation with lead and creating powders, and testing concluded that whitewash on ancient building walls was compiled of white lead. But after the Han dynasty, they began to use lime in wall painting, which could hint to ceruse's decline in cosmetic use as well, yet a writer named I Shih-Chen who lived in the Yuan Dynasty (1271 - 1368) described lead and mercury being used by court ladies:

"The Yellow Theocrat (Huang-ti), by refining, achieved gold and cinnabar-elixirs. The drugs left over from the refining were mercury, pinker than the red sunset-clouds, and lead, whiter than the pure-white snow. His Palatane women took the mercury to tint their lips, so that their lips were vermeil, and took the lead to spread on their faces, so that their faces were white. Thus when they washed them, these did not fall away. Later generations copied them in applying grease and powder, which is laughable in the extreme."

Speculation of the use of lead continues in the article, and an ancient poem coupled with a recent archeological dig found cosmetic cases of white lead powder. The use of the white lead powder on the face, and application to the breast continued into the Tang Dynasty, where the cosmetic was no longer just used by the aristocracy but used by women of all classes. It was in this dynasty when it's use migrated to Japan as well.

So what I gathered from the article is, you really need to have an understanding of metals and ores (and their discoveries) to comprehend the beginnings of the world's cosmetics. Additionally, translation plays a big part in the documentation and exploration of what the make up was made out of.

Additionally, it appears that makeup appears to always begin in the upper classes of court women and courtesans, eventually migrating to the low economic classes. From the writings of Greek and Roman poets, and I Shih-Chen's recording of the court ladies' cosmetics, it appears that men have some sort of disdain toward women painting their faces.

If men prefer women with unpainted faces, who has been pushing the cosmetic industry since it's inception? Is it women?


Works cited:

The Early History of Lead Pigments and Cosmetics in China
Edward H. Schafer
T'oung Pao
Second Series, Vol. 44, Livr. 4/5 (1956), pp. 413-438 Published by: BRILL Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4527434

"History of China." Travel China Guide. N.p., 1998 - 2011. Web. 8 Oct 2011. .

"Important Ore Minerals." Collector's Corner. Mineralogical Society of America, 1997 - 2011. Web. 8 Oct 2011. .

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Reading about Roman Cosmetics

Waiting for my textbooks to arrive, I used Project MUSE and found a journal article on the use of cosmetics in Roman times, titled; "Cosmetics in Roman Antiquity: Substance, Remedy, Poison".

The author, Kelly Olson, hoped to compile information mainly regarding how access to cosmetics affected the lives of Roman women, and how they were perceived by history/literature. She begins by disclosing that the cosmetics themselves did not determine a woman's status in the 400 year period of Roman history that she is analyzing. Cosmetics and their containers were readily available to women of most economic statuses. However, the evidence of women's makeup application is mainly pulled from male writings, so a diverse source of material was required to avoid compiling a completely masculine perspective on the subject.

The male perspective on feminine cosmetic use has often been suspicious. In Les femmes et les fards dans l'antiquite Grecque (Women and Makeup in Ancient Greece) by Bernard Grillet, it points to the two purposes men assumed cosmetics were for:

kosmêtikon tês iatrikês meros (the preservation of beauty)
kommôtikon (the "unnatural embellishment" of looks)

The unnatural embellishment of looks is what underwent more hostility from males, and often obscured the textual recordings of the first purpose. Because of that, Kelly Olson looked to remedy by writing on the cosmetics themselves and their day-today use in life for a Roman woman.

Like in many cultures, the pale 'snowy' skin complexion of women was attributed to the leisure class, Martial and Ovid were some of the few to record how women whitened their skin. In the 'Substance' section, the first cosmetic that is discussed is cerussa, cakes of vinegar dissolved lead shavings, which would contribute to the paling of skin-tone when applied. The peoples of Ancient Greece were aware of the poisonous properties of white lead, so a chalk dust - vinegar paste was used as a substitute by some. Other cosmetics used to whiten skin were melinum, a greasy mixture of clay from Melos (a southeastern island off Greece) and calcium carbonate, crocodile dung, and milk baths.

Rouge is the next most recorded substance used by Greek and Roman women. Poisonous substances were also cited for rouge use, red lead (minium) and red mercuric sulphide (cinnabar), however, red chalk, red ochre, alkanet, rose and poppy petals, wine lees, and crocodile intestines were non-poisonous substances appear in writings as well.

Olson contemplates the re-occurrence of crocodile for the use of cosmetics, as crocodilea was potentially an Egyptian reference to soil, and it already known that fertile soils were prized for health and beauty properties. Potentially, the reference to women lathering their faces in excrement could have been derived from an anti-cosmetic attitude of male writers at the time. She notes that Roman art depicting effigies of women have natural complexions, not whitened faces and rouged cheeks.

In Ovid's writings, eyeliner or 'magnifying the eye' was often referred to as platyophthalmon. Poisonous substances were not usually used to make up the cosmetics for eyeliner. Kohl soot, lamp grease, antimony, and ash mixtures all have been recorded for the use of eyeliner. The mixtures were formed into tablets and sold, often applied by a needle or a dainty stick.

Coloring in the eyebrow was more elaborate, as kohl tubes were constructed to apply colors to accentuate the eyebrow. Green and black often appeared in multi-tubed applicators made of bone/ivory, glass or wood. It appears that ancient writers such as Ovid, Claudius, Martial, and Petronius wrote of a beautiful single eyebrow (uni-brow), and that the space between the brows was often filled in.

Lip coloring did not appear in ancient Roman of Greek texts, and was unmentioned until Tertullian cautioned Christian women against painting their mouths with 'false substances'.

Treatment for skin conditions appear to be most abundant in recordings. Anything from pimples, rashes, lesions, dry skin, scars, and freckles had remedies. Animals fats, mushrooms, snails, honey, flowers, lentils, soda, and gum arabic all are listed as ingredients for skin cleaners and facial creams to restore a clear complexion. White lead and mercury were also recommended, yet still very poisonous.

The pains of body hair removal are ancient in fact, as the male preference for a hairless female body was written by Ovid, Lucian, and Potestas. Ancient Greek and Roman women used pumice stone, plucking, pitch, and resin to remove hair from the arms, legs, and pubic areas to fit the beauty standards of the times.

Section three of the article tackles the negative reception men had against cosmetics. The use of cosmetics by women was often interpreted as overtly sexual, self-centered, and false. More so, the witnessing of makeup's application was considered grotesque, as the deceiving process lead to the misleading result.

Another reason for the distasteful view towards cosmetics could be the link of similar mixes and compounds being used for medicinal purposes. Ingredients that appeared in cosmetics could be used for wounds, illnesses, internal maladies, and even abortions. The physical appearance of a cosmetic could insinuate a licentious woman, or perhaps a woman with an illness or grave injury that was being concealed. Even application tools had medicinal connotations.

Towards the conclusion Olson notes that ancients used many of the toxic cosmetic substances for artistic or architectural endeavors, and the irony that women could have used the same materials to make themselves into works of art, while the artistic depictions of them that survive display a more natural female.

Lastly, the use of cosmetics was an ironic cycle in of itself. Male standards of beauty required a specific complexion of a woman's body and face, yet to enhance a woman's natural features to match these standards (and her potential social standing) was not only considered distasteful but was dangerous to their health (and complexion too!).

What I'm wondering is, has anything really changed since then?


Citations from:
Kelly Olson. "Cosmetics in Roman Antiquity: Substance, Remedy, Poison." Classical World 102.3 (2009): 291-310. Project MUSE. Web. 22 Jan. 2011. .