In his famous work, The Art of Love, the traditional Roman poet Ovid issues a stark warning to women about how they need to go about applying their make-up. “With wax whiten your skin, and with carmine to present yourself the rosy hue which Nature has denied you […] But not at all let your lover find you with a number of ‘aids to beauty’ boxes about you. The art that adorns you ought to be unsuspected.[…] Why should I do know what it’s that makes your skin so white? Keep your door shut, and don’t let me see the work before it’s finished.” 

Fast forward two thousand years to an online age of ‘radical transparency’ where privacy is scarce and openly sharing every second of our lives is the norm, and it appears as if Ovid’s misogynistic musings thankfully hold no value. Cultural attitudes have shifted dramatically, with beauty being an unlimited a part of that. From celebrities lifting the lid on their beauty practices with behind-the-scenes coverage of their ‘glam squad’ in motion to regular people turning the camera on themselves as they share with the world their intimate beauty routines, the sweetness tutorial has taken the web by storm. Indeed, a historically private but increasingly public practice, one’s beauty routine has been rendered visible by the virality of the net beauty tutorial with beauty-related content generating greater than 169 billion views in 2018 alone. 

In some ways, the rise of the sweetness tutorial has been liberating in its subversion of the Ovidian notion that beauty should seem naturally inherent. In 2019, not only are we sharing with our lover the “‘aids to beauty’ boxes” about us, we’re sharing them with a whole lot of hundreds of individuals around the globe. As a substitute of keeping the door shut until we’re finished, the sweetness tutorial flings the door open to disclose the period of time, money and work that goes into making a finished look, showing that we’re not all genetically blessed and subsequently evening out the playing field.

Dr. Meredith Jones, a reader in gender and cultural studies at Brunel university studies and creator of Beautyscapes: Mapping Cosmetic Surgery Tourism, cites the Kardashian sisters as playing a very important part on this movement, through their constant behind-the-scenes beauty footage on Keeping Up With The Kardashian’s and later beauty tutorials. “The Kardashians have in a way led the cultural turn to make-up not being something hidden away after which an ideal face presented to the world (possibly resulting in people believing that no work has been done to it),” she says. As a substitute of beauty appearing inherently natural, “the Kardashians show the labour that goes into beauty.”

Thus the ability of the sweetness tutorial lies in its ability to demystify beauty as an unattainable ideal. By specializing in the method it takes to create a glance versus merely the final result, beauty tutorials provide much-needed relief to the unrealistic images we’re always surrounded with, each in fashion magazines and in mainstream media. “Fairly than emphasize a static unattainable image, tutorials give attention to a process which, if you find yourself shown the steps, tools and techniques, you’ll be able to adapt in your personal way,” says Jones. “By seeing that so-called ‘perfection’ or ‘prettiness’ is manufactured and potentially attainable to everyone, beauty tutorials could also be empowering to those that watch them.”

Olivia Galvin, Style Collective Lead at cultural insights agency Flamingo agrees, arguing that, “tutorials, in essence, can humanise beauty and empower people to feel it’s accessible – something they’ll do too slightly than an unattainable art form.” This is particularly true of a growing breed of body-positive beauty vloggers who use their platform to highlight various skin concerns from pimples to scars and burns. As a substitute of presenting an ideal image to the world, these individuals peel back the curtain on their perceived flaws and highlight how you should utilize make-up together with them as a way of expression, slightly than mere concealment. Take Em Ford, founder of My Pale Skin or Louisa Northcote, for instance, who usually reference their pimples concerns on camera. Or Shalom Blac, who openly discusses her facial burns on her YouTube channel. There’s also a refreshingly popular trend amongst Chinese beauty influencers who’ve taken to filming themselves removing their make-up, tape, and prosthetics to disclose entirely different features – highlighting just how much work goes into their each day looks. 

But there’s an issue. While beauty tutorials may debunk the damaging idea that ladies just appear beautiful, surely by breaking down how a desired look will be achieved, are they not essentially reinforcing existing ideals of what it’s to look beautiful? Is that this not selling us the notion that true beauty might be yours if only you follow these easy steps? In spite of everything, though the emphasis is on achieve a glance, your entire format continues to be predicated on mimicking the final result. Yes, you’ll be able to adapt the principles, and showcase your creativity, but what number of tutorials flag that? From multi-step eyebrow regimes geared toward sculpting brows to perfection to multi-layer contouring techniques, beauty tutorials emphasise the should be transformed right into a latest form of beauty, insinuating that our bare-faced selves won’t be quite delightful enough. This is especially true of short-form beauty tutorials corresponding to the sped up Instagram tutorial. Here, the method is unclear and the principles ambiguous, encouraging viewers to mindlessly recreate looks versus adapting them. 

What’s more, the repetitive nature of algorithmically-controlled echo chambers means we’re exposed to the identical beauty looks repeatedly. “It is way easier to find and be prompted with tutorials which are much like those we’ve viewed before,” explains Galvin, “often we see the identical kind of beauty look, codified with the identical language, same behaviour and infrequently similar products.” So despite the fact that there are a number of diverse beauty tutorials on the market, we’re programmed to look at the identical form of content over and once more, thus exposing us to the identical beauty ideals over and once more. And what are we to make of brand-sponsored tutorials? On this scenario, not only is the tip game to ensure desired looks achievable (a lot of which reinforce mainstream narratives of beauty) but to achieve this using specific products, which will be all yours at a substantial price.

Beauty tutorials have undoubtedly modified the world of make-up, enabling people, for whom beauty was once unattainable, to learn, discover and explore latest expressions. Lifting the lid on previously hidden practices, they subvert the Ovidian notion that beauty should seem naturally inherent, that ladies should miraculously appear beautiful, leaving no trace of the wax, carmine, or other “aids to beauty” used to attain their desired look. Nonetheless, for essentially the most part, beauty tutorials are still a way of achieving some form of culturally sanctioned beauty ideal. On top of that, they place a somewhat problematic emphasis on transformation, encouraging viewers to maneuver from their natural state to a more beautiful final result. This gets even muddier when big brands are involved, with the concept being that beauty will be yours in case you follow these easy steps, and more crucially in case you buy these products. In fact, this shouldn’t be to say that we should always suddenly boycott all beauty tutorials perpetually, but it surely is a lesson in taking them with a pinch of salt. So long as we see them as a type of entertainment, something to be inspired by, versus mindlessly mimic, then there’s no harm.