How are a 17th-century European woman and a Gen Z-er who cares about their image similar? Well, both of them might opt to decorate a blemish mark with a star-shaped sticker.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, women (and occasionally men) would purchase beauty patches to conceal smallpox or syphilis scars, or to enhance their fair skin. Nowadays, these patches are available in pharmacies worldwide, with the promise of diminishing and protecting acne.
The exhibition "The Cult of Beauty" at the Wellcome Collection museum in London reveals surprising similarities between modern skincare routines and beauty practices from the past. Through clever curation, over 200 intriguing items illustrate this connection. One particular focus of the exhibition is the booming brow industry.
Inside a glass display case, a 2018 red-light therapy "photon" face mask, an at-home treatment that still feels futuristic, sits next to its fearsome predecessor from 1950s Germany. Elsewhere, two jars of foundation, separated by 2,000 years, employ an identical marketing strategy: a beautiful woman's visage etched on the lid. A 1920s hand-held "Punkt-Roller" (a German stomach roller designed to accentuate ab muscles) is paired with a 2000s Japanese upper-arm cellulite blitzer. "It demonstrates the extent of change and continuity," curator Janice Li shared with CNN during a tour of the exhibition.
On the far right, a modern-day red-light "photon" face mask used to target wrinkles and complexion is placed next to an eerily similar instrument created in the 1950s.
Courtesy Wellcome Collection
Lis's thesis embodies the central message of the exhibition: that the pursuit of beauty is a fundamental aspect of being human. Spanning a wide range of artifacts, some dating back to Ancient Egypt, the exhibition aims to redefine our understanding of beauty. It seeks to move away from a modern perception of beauty as superficial or vain, and instead presents it as a subject of anthropological and historical significance that cannot be ignored. Li emphasizes, "We want to strip away the dismissive labels and show that beauty is something we engage with daily; it is fundamental and essential."
Undeniably, attitudes towards beauty and femininity in the industry have drastically changed in recent decades. Intriguing and eerie items, such as a 1950s "maternity" corset designed to support and, more importantly, hide a baby bump, or a miniature girdle for Victorian infants, hold a morbid fascination. An example from 1972 is a "Miss World" board game in which players lose points for being "too fat" or having tattoos.
A life-size Barbie doll on display is currently in vogue, although this particular version is starkly different from Greta Gerwig's feminist blockbuster. Mannequin designer Adel Rootstein crafted this enlarged figurine in 2009 using Mattel's original measurements. The doll's body, which includes a practically unattainable 21-inch waist, is so out of proportion that the museum had to affix it to the floor for stability.
The oldest artefacts in the exhibition date back to Ancient Egypt.
Courtesy Wellcome Collection
But who is this all for? Pursuing beauty and youth may be an instinctive impulse, but the show suggests that it often leads to disappointment, delusion, and even death. For example, Diane de Poitiers likely died from drinking liquid gold in a misguided attempt to rejuvenate her appearance and reduce inflammation. A lithograph from 1841 depicting the French noblewoman hangs near the entrance of the exhibition, serving as a poignant reminder to those tempted to mock her fate.
The exhibition offers new insights into longstanding questions within the beauty industry. For those who believe that hair and makeup solely exist for the pleasure of men, an image from 2009 showcases the Brazilian prison beauty pageant "Miss Penetencaria." Photographer Zed Nelson captured this image inside an all-female facility in Rio, challenging the notion that beauty is solely for the male gaze. Furthermore, research from Emma Dabiri, an academic and author specializing in racial social history, highlights that the obsession with whiteness in beauty predates Western colonialism. A restored replica of a 7th-century sculpture of a Greek goddess depicted with dark hair, a painted face, and notably, white skin conveys this long-standing ideal. Li, the curator, points to a 16th-century Chinese recipe for skin-whitening pearl powder to emphasize the association of whiteness with status. "This goes back to the association with status. In an agricultural society, as in Chinese culture (at the time), if you were an upper-class lady, you didn't get out of the house," she explains.
Zed Nelson's photography is a highlight of the exhibition. Here, his pieces "Miss Penetencaria" and "Love Me" are displayed in the section titled "Beauty as Currency."
Courtesy Wellcome Collection, Li and her co-curators present an unflinching examination of the rapidly growing $625-billion industry. However, the exhibition is not solely a scathing critique; it is a thoughtful celebration. One striking image, captured by Nelson, depicts a patient undergoing a facelift, serving as a chilling conclusion to the display. Additionally, the exhibition features a wall displaying significant milestones in the form of "firsts" from various magazines. This includes the groundbreaking first US Vogue cover showcasing model Beverly Johnson, who graced the August 1974 issue as the first Black woman to do so. Furthermore, this year's Vogue Philippines cover features a remarkable 106-year-old woman, making her the first centenarian to be featured on any edition of the fashion magazine—an extraordinary testament to progress.
Frances' hairiest exhibition delves into the hairy trends of history. Also featured in the show is a section generously provided by the nearby Museum of Transology. This institution focuses on documenting issues related to transgender, non-binary, and intersex individuals. The museum's collection showcases an assortment of seemingly ordinary cosmetic products, each accompanied by a heartfelt handwritten memory from an anonymous owner. For example, one item is the first lipstick given by the subject's sister—a small act of acceptance. Another item is a hastily acquired long brown weave, acquired by someone who was expelled from their family home due to intolerance. This solitary piece of armor serves as protection against gendered violence. Each of these items serves as a reminder of the significant role beauty can play in our lives.
"Its human nature," said Li. "And its serious work."