In the comments to Jill’s post on tanning beds, Marian posted the following comment (excerpt):
What is it with tanning anyway? It is a beauty-standard and competitiveness thing with many women. I remember in high school after spring break, the ultimate insult was to be told, “You’re not tan!” I was never as tan as my classmates after a Florida trip (combination of fair skin and strict Mom making me wear SPF 30 instead of the popular tanning oil), and certain snobby types would always let me know it. Girls would sit out in the sun for hours a day, all summer, just to be told, “Oh, you’re tan” and to feel beautiful. I used to cry at bad weather in the summer and on breaks, just because I couldn’t tan, and people might notice.
Where did this trend come from? I’d be interested to research it.
My understanding is that this dates back to the 1920s, when women’s clothing became much skimpier, and a tan was a sign that not only were you brave enough to bare all, you were also wealthy enough to have the time to get tan (and the ability to travel to places where tanning was possible year-round). Prior to that, women of the fashionable classes were expected to stay indoors and shield themselves from the sun so that they did not resemble those from the lower classes who toiled in the field.
Like any beauty standard, the tan in the US (at least among white people; the stratification of skin color and status in the black community is a whole ‘nother ball of wax that I don’t feel qualified to comment on) is associated with the upper classes and a surfeit of leisure time. Therefore, it is unattainable for many, especially in the winter. Same thing with thinness and fitness — prized because they take a lot of work and set one apart from the lumpen masses.
But what holds in the US often doesn’t hold in the rest of the world. Sure, the beauty standard in any country will be associated with the upper classes, but the standard itself will change. Thus, in countries where starvation is a problem, fat women are considered beautiful because anybody can be thin. And in Asia, pale skin, unattainable by many, is prized. So much so that women are turning to skin-bleaching creams that are doing them real damage:
Whiter skin is being aggressively marketed across Asia, with vast selections of skin-whitening creams on supermarket and pharmacy shelves testament to an industry that has flourished over the past decade. In Hong Kong, Malaysia, the Philippines, South Korea and Taiwan, 4 of every 10 women use a whitening cream, a survey by Synovate, a market research company, found.
The skin-whitening craze is not just for the face. It includes creams that whiten darker patches of skin in armpits and “pink nipple” lotions that bleach away brown pigment.
And while many if not most whitening creams are safe, doctors, consumer groups and government officials are reporting dangerous consequences of the trend. Some involve women who use blemish creams in large, harmful amounts; inexpensive black-market products with powerful but illegal bleaching agents are selling briskly, particularly in the poorer parts of South and Southeast Asia.
“I have a lot of complaints — with photographs — which show that before the cream is used the face is fine and then after it looks like it’s been roasted in the oven,” said Darshan Singh, the manager for Malaysia’s National Consumer Complaints Center, a nonprofit group.
And be sure to check out the caption to the photo at the top of the piece, describing a billboard advertising a bleaching cream, which could never, ever run here:
An ad for a skin-whitening product in Hong Kong says: “White or wrong? The right choice. Beauty White makes your whole body white.”
That’s rather heavy-handed, but the soft sell for a lot of beauty products in the US does the same thing — play on insecurities and the perception that you are inadequate as you are and require the product being sold to make you acceptable. At least until you turn the page and see the next ad for the next product for your next deficiency.
And if you ever wonder why government regulation can be a good thing, think about the next few paragraphs:
Some of the most effective agents are also risky — and are often the least expensive, like mercury-based ingredients or hydroquinone, which in Thailand sells for about $20 per kilogram (2.2 pounds), compared with highly concentrated licorice extract, which sells for about $20,000 per kilogram.
Hydroquinone has been shown to cause leukemia in mice and other animals. The European Union banned it from cosmetics in 2001, but it shows up in bootleg creams in the developing world. It is sold in the United States as an over-the-counter drug, but with a concentration of hydroquinone not exceeding 2 percent.
There are a number of theories as to why white skin is so central to the standard of beauty across Asia:
Sociologists have long debated why Asians, who are divided by everything from language to religion to ethnicity, share a deeply held cultural preference for lighter skin. One commonly repeated rationale is that a lighter complexion is associated with wealth and higher education levels because those from lower social classes, laborers and farmers, are more exposed to the sun.
Another theory is that the waves of lighter-skinned conquerors, the Moguls from Central Asia and the colonizers from Europe, reset the standard for attractiveness.
Films and advertising also clearly have a role. The success of South Korean soap operas across the region has made their lighter-skinned stars emblems of Asian beauty.
Nithiwadi Phuchareuyot, a doctor at a skin clinic in Bangkok who dispenses products and treatments to lighten skin, said: “Every Thai girl thinks that if she has white skin the money will come and the men will come. The movie stars are all white-skinned, and everyone wants to look like a superstar.”
In Thailand, as in other countries in the region, the stigma of darker skin is reflected in language. One common insult is tua dam, or black body. Less common but more evocative is dam tap pet, or black like a duck’s liver.
Advertisements for skin-whitening products promote whiter skin as glowing and healthier. Olay has a product called White Radiance. L’Oréal markets products called White Perfect.
There’s another example of the reason given for the beauty standard being the same as in the US, whereas the standard itself is different: the appearance of health. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been told, simply due to the paleness of my skin, that I’d look “healthier” with “a little color.”
And just as in the US, we have doctors pushing beauty products that may not be safe:
Thada Piamphongsant, the president of the Thai Society of Cosmetic Dermatology and Surgery, said he believed that about half of all Thai dermatologists prescribed creams with hydroquinone. He stopped prescribing it a decade ago when he noticed patients with redness and itching and with more serious side effects like ochronosis, the appearance of very dark patches of skin that are difficult to remove.
Some patients also develop leukoderma, where the skin loses the ability to produce pigment, resulting in patches of pink like those on Ms. Panya’s face and neck.
You have to wonder how one even deals with this kind of problem when it appears so entrenched. I suppose regulation of skin-lighteners and cracking down on the black market in dangerous and cheap creams is a start, along with some kind of education effort. But even if this standard of beauty falls, there will be another to take its place.