4-minute read I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about beauty—what it means, who gets to define it, and whether it’s really as inclusive as we like to think. And the more I look at it, the more I realize that Beauty or Bias Western beauty standards aren’t just about what’s considered attractive; they’re about power, control, and exclusion. As a Black woman, I’ve seen firsthand how these standards work—how they shape the way we see ourselves and each other. So, I want to share three truths I’ve discovered about the impact of Western beauty ideals on Black women. Because the reality is, beauty has never been neutral. Truth 1: Western Beauty Ideals Are Built on Exclusion There’s a memory from my childhood that I can’t seem to shake. When my dad worked at an art printing factory, he’d bring home all sorts of prints—stunning images tucked away in a cupboard. One of them was a massive picture of Marilyn Monroe. I used to pull it out and just stare, completely mesmerised by her beauty. At around eight or nine years old, I saw her as the ultimate symbol of glamour. But when I think back, I can’t remember ever admiring a Black woman in the same way at that age. Not because Black beauty wasn’t there—but because it wasn’t presented to me in the same way. That’s the thing about Western beauty ideals. They don’t just elevate a certain type of beauty—they erase others. For decades, they’ve pushed a very specific look: lighter skin, straight hair, Eurocentric features. And while this has obviously been used to marginalise women of colour, it’s also been a way to control White women who don’t fit the mold. It’s a hierarchy, and only a select few get to sit at the top. Once I realised that beauty standards weren’t just about personal preference but about a system of exclusion, I started to question everything. While I’ve never personally felt the need to hide most of my features (apart from my hair, which always seemed to be up for debate), I know many Black women have. Whether it’s relaxing curls, contouring noses, or toning down full lips, so many of us have been made to feel like we need to adjust ourselves just to be seen as beautiful. Truth 2: Conforming to Western Ideals Drains Our Energy Let’s talk about the cost of trying to fit into an ideal that wasn’t designed for us. And I don’t just mean the financial cost (though let’s be real, that’s a big one). I mean the emotional and physical energy it takes to constantly manage how we present ourselves. Black women have been speaking up more and more about the “natural hair tax”—the extra time, effort, and money it takes to style our hair in ways that are considered “acceptable.” And that’s just one example. Whether it’s spending hours on hair treatments, choosing makeup shades that “soften” our features, or feeling like we need to look polished at all times just to be taken seriously, the pressure is relentless. And for what? To meet a beauty standard that keeps moving the goalpost? Over time, I’ve found that external pressures weigh on me less than they used to. Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s experience, but I just don’t have the energy to fight battles that I didn’t sign up for. That said, I know this isn’t the case for everyone. The reality is, not everyone has the privilege of not caring. For many Black women, especially in certain workplaces or industries, the pressure to conform is real. The fight to be seen as “presentable” can be exhausting. And it’s not just frustrating—it’s unfair. Truth 3: Our Eyes Must Learn to See Black Beauty One of the biggest revelations I’ve had is that beauty isn’t just something we see. Beauty or Bias has shaped our perceptions in ways we don’t even realize. I’ll never forget a moment from my early days working at Selfridges in London. I was serving an African woman, and her features—her large, flat nose, her bold structure—reminded me of the Benin bronzes I’d seen in museums. And in that moment, I saw the beauty in them. The beauty that had always been there. But the fact that I was only just seeing it for what it was? That shook me. It made me realise how much my eyes had been trained to see beauty through a Western lens. That unless Black features were softened, slimmed down, or Eurocentrically “refined,” they weren’t considered desirable. That was the moment I knew—learning to see Black beauty isn’t just about unlearning biases against others, it’s about unlearning the ones we’ve absorbed ourselves. Final Thoughts These three truths have shaped the way I think about beauty and bias. Western beauty ideals weren’t designed to include us, and yet, for so long, we’ve been made to feel like we have to measure ourselves against them. But here’s the thing—we don’t. We don’t have to shrink ourselves, change ourselves, or spend our energy trying to meet an impossible standard. We can reclaim our beauty, not just by rejecting these ideals, but by redefining what beauty means on our own terms. Every day, I try to unlearn the biases I’ve picked up. To remind myself that beauty isn’t just what we’ve been told it is. And if you’ve ever questioned your own beauty because of these outdated, narrow ideals—let this be your reminder: there is nothing to fix. You were never the problem. Let’s rewrite the rules. Let’s reclaim the definition of beauty. And let’s make sure Beauty or Bias doesn’t decide who gets to be seen. Thanks for reading! Have you ever caught yourself seeing beauty through a Western lens? Let’s talk—drop your thoughts below.
4-minute read Let’s be honest—the Hidden Agenda Behind Beauty Ads is everywhere. They follow us on our phones, pop up in our social feeds, and even sneak their way into our subconscious when we least expect it. One minute you’re just watching a YouTube video, and the next, you’re questioning if your skin is really hydrated enough because some airbrushed model is aggressively patting serum onto her already flawless face. For years, I bought into it. I wasn’t necessarily throwing my entire bank account at the beauty industry (let’s be real, that money went on food), but I was definitely convinced that if I just found the right product, I’d finally unlock my ultimate level of attractiveness. That’s the thing about beauty ads—they don’t just sell you a product, they sell you a problem first. And once you start looking for that “problem” in the mirror? Oh, they’ve got you. 1. The Art of Creating Insecurities Ever noticed how beauty ads have a magical way of making you question things you weren’t even thinking about before? One day, you’re minding your business, living your life, and then suddenly—BAM!—a glossy campaign tells you that your under-eyes are “too dark” or your pores are “too visible.” Listen, you didn’t even know you had visible pores until that ad zoomed in at a microscopic level! And just like that, you’re wondering if you need a ten-step skincare routine for an issue that didn’t even exist in your head before. That’s the game. The beauty industry thrives on our insecurities, and when they can’t find enough of them, they create new ones. Wrinkles, stretch marks, uneven skin tone, “too much” texture, “not enough” glow—there’s always something that apparently needs fixing. And because society is so deeply invested in policing women’s appearances, we don’t even question it. We just start adding more products to the cart. And let’s not pretend this isn’t targeted. Black women, in particular, are fed an extra layer of beauty insecurity, often revolving around Eurocentric standards. If it’s not our hair being called “unruly” (code for “doesn’t flow like white hair”), it’s our skin tone being erased from foundation ranges or our features being deemed “too strong” unless they’re placed on a Kardashian. 2. The “Barely-There” Lie You ever see those ads for a “natural” or “no-makeup” look and think… now wait a minute? They’ll have models with perfectly sculpted brows, dewy-yet-matte skin (how??), and lips that look like they just rolled out of bed effortlessly plump. Meanwhile, you try it, and it turns out their “no-makeup” look actually requires about ten different products, including one you must apply with a brush that costs more than your weekly food shop. The hidden agenda here? The idea suggests that beauty should be effortless—but we must constantly maintain it. It’s not enough to wear makeup, you have to make it look like you just naturally woke up with softly flushed cheeks and glowy skin. The work that goes into looking “effortless” is ironically, a lot of effort. And don’t get me started on “clean beauty” marketing. Some brands love to imply that if you’re not using their organic, all-natural, toxin-free product, then you’re basically slathering poison onto your face. Never mind the fact that half of these “clean” brands are just rebranding ingredients that have been in our kitchen cabinets for years. (Turmeric face mask? Please, our communities have been on this long before the beauty industry decided to cash in.) 3. The Luxury Status Trap Another little trick beauty ads love? Making you believe that expensive automatically means better. I’ve walked through high-end beauty counters in department stores and the way luxury brands position themselves is interesting. The sleek displays, the soft lighting, the air of exclusivity—it’s all designed to make you feel like you’re stepping into a world you should want to be part of. But let’s be real, a £200 face cream probably has the same basic ingredients as a £20 one, just with fancier packaging and a name in French. That’s the hidden agenda behind beauty Ads—the more we associate beauty with status, the more we’re willing to pay for it. It’s no longer just about looking good; it’s about having the product that makes you look like you’re part of a certain elite. And brands know this. That’s why they’ll slap “rare ingredients” on the label and hope you don’t question whether crushed pearls and unicorn tears are really necessary for clear skin. So, What’s the Solution? Look, I’m not saying don’t buy beauty products. I love a good skincare routine as much as the next person, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to enhance what you’ve got. But what I am saying is—let’s start questioning what brands are selling us. Before you add something to your basket, ask yourself: Do I actually need this, or did this ad just convince me I have a problem? Is this brand inclusive, or am I just another afterthought in their diversity campaign? Is the price based on quality, or is it just expensive for the aesthetic? The moment you start asking these questions, you take back control. Because beauty should be fun, expressive, and your choice—not something dictated by brands who profit from making us feel like we’re not enough. So the next time an ad tries to convince you that your skin needs to be smoother, your hair needs to be sleeker, or your lips need to be plumper—just remember, you were fine before they told you otherwise. And that, my friends, is the real beauty secret—the Hidden Agenda Behind Beauty Ads is to make you think otherwise. Thank you for reading! If this post made you think twice about beauty ads, let’s talk—drop your thoughts in the comments.
4-minute read As a Black woman who grew up navigating Western beauty standards, I’ve always been acutely aware of how Western Beauty Clashes with Black Culture, creating tension between my identity and heritage. Western ideals push a version of beauty that feels exclusionary, while Black culture celebrates diversity and authenticity. This tension doesn’t just affect how we see ourselves; it’s a constant battle to resist being molded into something we’re not. Let’s explore three key areas where Western beauty standards conflict with Black culture and the profound impact this has on us. 1. The War on Our Hair Growing up, both of my parents were Rastafarians, and in our household, embracing Blackness was not just encouraged—it was a way of life. Natural hair was celebrated as a symbol of pride and heritage, and locs, in particular, represented a connection to spirituality and resistance to oppression. I was raised with a deep appreciation for the beauty of our natural textures, but society had other plans. Despite my upbringing, the pressures of Western beauty standards proved stronger. By the time I hit my teens, I was begging for relaxers. I wanted the straight, “sleek” look I saw in magazines and on TV. Later, I graduated to extensions and wigs, trying styles that felt more acceptable in a world where natural hair was deemed “unprofessional” or “unkempt.” This journey is a testament to how pervasive and powerful the media and Western beauty ideals can be, highlighting yet another way Western Beauty Clashes with Black Culture. Even when your upbringing encourages you to love and embrace your Blackness, societal pressure to conform can overshadow everything else. In Black culture, our hair is so much more than an aesthetic choice—it’s a statement of identity, creativity, and resilience. Yet, Western beauty standards continue to dismiss the versatility and beauty of Afro-textured hair. This clash forces us to constantly navigate a world that both fetishizes and rejects our natural hair, leaving many of us feeling like we have to choose between authenticity and acceptance. 2. Skin Tone and the Obsession with Lightness Colourism, deeply rooted in colonialism, remains one of the most painful ways Western beauty ideals impact Black women. The unspoken rule that lighter skin is more desirable permeates everything from media representation to product advertising. Growing up, I keenly noticed how often people celebrated lighter-skinned women as the epitome of beauty. People often relegated darker-skinned women to the background or portrayed them using unflattering stereotypes. It was a harsh reminder that society didn’t see all Black women as equally beautiful. In Black culture, our skin tones represent a spectrum of beauty, richness, and heritage. The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. But Western beauty standards have convinced many of us otherwise. The prevalence of skin-lightening products and the lack of representation for darker-skinned women reinforce a message that lighter is better. While there’s been some progress in recent years—thanks to brands like Fenty Beauty and movements advocating for greater diversity—there’s still a long way to go. The harm caused by colourism doesn’t just vanish with more inclusive ad campaigns. The work to undo this deeply ingrained bias has to happen both externally and internally. 3. Body Image and the Ideal Shape Black culture has always celebrated a diversity of body types, embracing curves, hips, and fuller figures long before it was trendy. Western beauty standards, on the other hand, historically favoured slim, almost waif-like physiques, labelling curvier bodies as unhealthy or undesirable. In recent years, however, Western beauty ideals have started to catch up. More people are acknowledging that “skinny isn’t better,” and they now recognise curvier bodies as healthy and beautiful too. But even this shift comes with its complications. The “ideal” curvy body now promoted—featuring a slim waist, wide hips, and a round backside—is not attainable for everyone. It’s a specific shape that often feels exclusionary, even as it claims to celebrate diversity. This new standard reflects what Black and brown people have always known: beauty isn’t one-size-fits-all. But it also creates new pressures, pushing many women toward dangerous measures to achieve a shape that doesn’t come naturally to them. For Black women, it’s a bittersweet reminder that while people now appreciate our curves, they often celebrate them in ways that still make many of us feel excluded. Moving Forward The clash between Western beauty standards and Black culture is complex, but it’s also an opportunity for change. One of the most empowering things we can do is define beauty on our terms. This doesn’t mean rejecting makeup, wigs, or any of the things that help us feel beautiful. It means making choices for ourselves, not because we feel pressured to conform but because they bring us joy. Black women have always been innovators in beauty, from intricate braided hairstyles to bold makeup looks, and we deserve the freedom to express ourselves however we choose. Representation is essential, but so is self-compassion. The journey to self-acceptance isn’t linear, and the pressures we face are real. Whether you’re rocking a natural Afro, a sleek wig, or a bold red lip, your beauty is valid, and so is your choice to embrace what makes you feel confident. To my sisters reading this: let’s continue to challenge the standards that don’t serve us, celebrate the features that make us unique, and support one another in every way possible. Because when we define beauty for ourselves, we create space for the next generation to do the same.
I’ve always loved makeup. There’s something magical about the way a bit of colour here, a little highlight there, can transform your look—and your mood. But I’ve also always been conscious about wearing too much. In a world shaped by Eurocentric Beauty Rules, there’s often an unspoken expectation of what’s considered ‘too much’ or ‘too little. I could never abide the thought of being one of those women people whisper about for “caking it on.” For me, makeup has always been about balance: enhancing what’s already there while leaving room for my natural beauty to shine through. Half the fun of raving or a night out isn’t just the party itself; it’s the ritual beforehand. It’s doing your hair, perfecting your makeup, and deciding on the right outfit. There’s a joy in the process of getting ready—a moment to connect with yourself and channel your energy into how you want to present to the world. Makeup, for me, has always been a way to express myself. But despite the joy it brings, makeup comes with its complexities, particularly for Black women. From the products available to the trends we’re expected to follow, there’s no denying the Eurocentric slant in the beauty industry. And yet, Black women have always found ways to thrive in this space. We’ve known how to adorn ourselves for centuries. A Historical Legacy of Adornment The relationship between Black women and makeup didn’t start with contour palettes or winged eyeliner. It started long before colonization in the rich and varied traditions of African tribes. Across the continent, people have used makeup and adornment to express identity, share stories, and convey meaning. In many West African cultures, for example, people used intricate facial markings made with natural pigments to signify tribal affiliation, social status, or even spiritual beliefs. In the Himba tribe of Namibia, women use otjize, a mixture of butterfat and red ochre, to cover their skin and hair. It’s not just about beauty—it’s a powerful cultural practice that connects them to their heritage and protects their skin in the harsh climate. From ceremonial body painting to elaborate hairstyles adorned with shells and beads, Africans have always understood the power of self-expression. These practices weren’t just about aesthetics—they were deeply symbolic, denoting everything from age and marital status to rank within a community. This history of adornment is something we carry in our DNA. It’s why Black women have such a natural knack for makeup. Despite the lack of representation in the mainstream beauty industry, we’ve always found ways to make it work. Even when Eurocentric Beauty Rules dictated narrow ideals, Black women have continuously innovated and redefined beauty on their terms. From blending the wrong shades to creating the right match to creating trends the world would later imitate, we’ve been innovators in this space long before it was “cool.” Makeup as Celebration Understanding this history reframes the way we approach makeup today. While there are undeniable issues with Eurocentric beauty standards, there’s also a sense of celebration and empowerment that comes with wearing makeup. For Black women, it’s not just about covering up flaws or fitting into a mold—it’s about enhancing and celebrating who we are. I think about the bold lipsticks we wear that light up a room, the way we carve our brows to perfection, or the way we blend our eyeshadow with artistry and precision. Black women have taken makeup and made it our own, using it to highlight the features that make us unique rather than conforming to what society says we should look like. And while the Eurocentric slant in the industry persists—think of contouring techniques designed to narrow the nose or “natural” looks that still lean into light skin and subtle features—we’ve found ways to push back. Brands like Fenty Beauty have shifted the narrative, offering shades and products that truly cater to us. But even before that, we were mixing, matching, and hacking the system to make makeup work for us. The Complexity of Eurocentric Rules Still, we can’t ignore the weight of Eurocentric beauty standards. The influence of Eurocentric Beauty Rules is deeply ingrained, shaping everything from foundation shades to the techniques promoted by major brands. They influence everything from the products available to the trends we’re told to follow. I can remember being told to “soften” my features with makeup—to make my nose appear smaller or to stick to neutral shades that wouldn’t draw too much attention. These subtle suggestions all stem from the same root: the idea that Afrocentric features are less desirable. Yet, even as we navigate these pressures, it’s important to remember the truth: we don’t have to play by their rules. Makeup should be a tool for self-expression, not a mask, to make ourselves more palatable to the world. A Celebration of Choice Black women have always known how to adorn themselves. From our ancestors painting their bodies with natural pigments to us perfecting our winged eyeliner in the bathroom mirror, makeup has always been a form of art and expression. So, are you living by Eurocentric beauty rules? It’s worth reflecting on. But remember, the power lies with you. Whether you choose a bold, colourful look or prefer a subtle, natural vibe, the most important thing is that it feels authentic to you. And let’s not forget: every time we pick up that brush or lipstick, we’re continuing a legacy of adornment and self-expression that’s as old as time. So go ahead—embrace makeup on your terms, honour your history, and always remember that your beauty is undeniable, with or without it.
Over the years, I’ve seen and read a lot about how Eurocentric beauty standards hurt Black women—not just on the surface but by draining our energy and undermining our confidence. Social media posts, opinion pieces, and various storeys from everyday life all point to one painful truth: the dominant beauty ideals force us to expend emotional labour just to be accepted. In this post, I want to share some observations and insights on how these eurocentric beauty standards hurts Black women—even in communities that should, by every measure, be celebrating our natural beauty. My perspective stems from what I’ve seen and read, reflecting a broader cultural phenomenon rather than just a personal journey. The Energy Drain of Conforming One recurring theme I’ve noticed across social media and discussion forums is the enormous amount of energy Black women must use simply to conform to a beauty standard that was never made for us. Whether it’s adjusting our hairstyles to meet “professional” expectations at work, the pressure is undeniable. We also feel compelled to alter our appearance to fit school or social norms. The mental and emotional toll of these expectations is significant. Countless posts from Black professionals describe the extra time and stress involved in styling their hair to align with Eurocentric ideals—often sacrificing self-expression and comfort. Instead of channelling their energy into creative or professional pursuits, many find themselves locked in a daily battle to maintain a look that society deems acceptable. This constant self-surveillance and modification drains our energy and reinforces the message that our natural state is somehow not enough. The Battle Over Natural Hair Although I haven’t had issues with my skin tone or body shape, I have struggled with the constant battle over my hair. I grew up in a household with Rastafarian parents who celebrated natural hair as a proud symbol of our heritage. It’s baffling to see how, even when raised to love our natural beauty, we can still feel pressured to change. External influences often force us to stray from those values. Social media is rife with discussions and memes about the “natural hair tax”—the extra time, effort, and expense required to maintain hair in its natural state. Influential voices in our community share experiences of being told that their natural hair is “unprofessional” or “inappropriate,” even in environments where Black culture should be the norm. For example, I’ve seen heartbreaking posts about Black children in schools fighting to wear their natural hair, facing scrutiny and pressure from both peers and teachers to conform to a different standard. This isn’t just about personal preference. It clearly shows that even among our own people, we have deeply internalised Eurocentric beauty ideals. Internalised Racism and the Cost of Acceptance One of the most insidious effects of these beauty standards is the internalised racism they foster. When media constantly portrays a narrow standard of beauty—featuring lighter skin, straight hair, and specific facial features—it’s hard not to start questioning one’s own worth. Online, many Black women have shared feelings of being “less than” simply because they don’t fit into this unrealistic mould. This internalized bias isn’t only about personal self-esteem; it creates a collective energy drain that affects entire communities. For instance, in parts of Nigeria and Ghana, I’ve seen discussions where even local families and schools police natural hair, pressuring children to straighten or alter their hair to meet a standard imported from a Westernised ideal. This kind of internal policing forces us to constantly battle against the idea that our natural state isn’t enough. Instead of channeling our energy into creative, fulfilling endeavors, many of us remain trapped in a cycle of proving our beauty and worthiness—an exhausting struggle rooted in deep-seated internalised racism. The Broader Cultural Impact What’s striking is just how pervasive these effects are—even in spaces where you’d expect Black identity to be celebrated. Even in countries where indigenous beauty practises once reigned supreme, global media has introduced an alternative set of ideals that continue to influence local beauty standards. For example, in parts of Africa and the Caribbean, entertainment and fashion industries have recently overrepresented lighter skin and more “refined” features. This isn’t just about personal preference; it clearly shows that even among our own people, we have deeply internalised Eurocentric beauty ideals. Moving Towards Self-Acceptance and Change While it’s crucial to understand and acknowledge the energy-draining impact of Eurocentric beauty standards, it’s also important to recognise that change is possible. Many Black women are now using social media and other platforms to reclaim our narrative. They are celebrating natural hair and embracing diverse skin tones. Together, we are redefining what it means to be beautiful on our own terms. This emerging counter-narrative empowers us, but it also starkly reminds us of how much energy we have already lost in struggling against a system that devalues Black beauty. It’s both a call to action and a lesson in self-care. The energy we spend trying to conform is exhausting. We could better use it in creative, fulfilling pursuits that honour our heritage and individuality. Final Thoughts Eurocentric beauty standards hurts Black women by draining precious energy—energy that could be spent nurturing our talents, passions, and communities. The daily struggle to conform, the internalized racism, and the subtle judgments we face create a relentless battle. Even in our own cultural spaces, society constantly forces us to fight for acceptance. By educating ourselves about these issues, we can create change. Sharing our stories and supporting movements that celebrate natural Black beauty will help shift the narrative. This is how we start shifting the narrative. Every conversation, every shared experience, and every moment of self-acceptance chips away at the power of these imposed standards. It’s time to reclaim our energy and define beauty on our own, much-needed terms.
When I was a little girl, beauty felt like a mystery to me. But it wasn’t that I wanted to emulate White women—I didn’t. I wanted to emulate the Diana Rosses of the world and the little girls I’d see on the relaxer kits in the shops. They were the epitome of beauty to me, their sleek hair perfectly styled, their smiles radiant. As I got older and started secondary school, my focus shifted. It wasn’t distant icons like Janet Jackson or Lisa Lisa anymore; it was the girls at school—the ones with coolie hair or hair that was long, brushing past their shoulders. In hindsight, my thing was always hair. It was my measure of beauty, the feature I felt needed to be “just right” to be considered beautiful. But now I know that for most Black girls growing up, there was always something. Maybe it wasn’t hair; maybe it was their nose they thought was too wide, their lips too full, their skin too dark, their body too wide—or a combination of all of these. The message was the same: something about us was always framed as needing to be fixed, hidden, or changed. The Weight of Eurocentric Standards Growing up, I never realised how much power Eurocentric beauty standards had over me. What I also didn’t realise at the time was that even the Black celebrities and little girls on the relaxer kits I admired so much were bowing down under the weight of those same standards. They were emulating the dominant beauty ideal—the one rooted in Eurocentric features. I had no idea that the sleek, long hair I idolised wasn’t natural for most of them. I believed that Whitney, Chaka, Sister Sledge, and others had long, straight hair naturally. Maybe a few of them did, but the majority didn’t. That illusion is damaging in ways that are hard to quantify. As a child, I didn’t question it; I simply believed that my own hair, as it grew from my scalp, wasn’t good enough. Seeing those images over and over again plants a seed of inadequacy in little Black girls, telling us that our natural beauty isn’t enough. It reinforces the idea that to be seen as beautiful—or even acceptable—we must conform to a standard that doesn’t celebrate us as we are. By the time you realise the truth—that the sleek hair and polished looks were achieved with relaxers, wigs, weaves, and extensions—you’ve often already internalised the message. And it doesn’t stop there. You’ve likely already started playing along, perpetuating the same lie for the next generation. I was no different. I began using the relaxer creams, burning my scalp in pursuit of the straight, silky hair I thought was a marker of beauty. When relaxers weren’t enough, I added extensions. Eventually, I moved on to wigs and weaves, piling on more layers of someone else’s hair to make up for what I thought I lacked. Without realising it, I became part of the cycle, passing the weight of those beauty standards onto the next generation of Black girls—just as it had been passed onto me. The weight is heavy, not just physically but emotionally. As a heterosexual woman, that weight also comes from not wanting to be invisible to Black boys. To be seen by them, you had to prove that you were worth noticing—you had to have the latest hairstyle, your hair had to be “done,” you had to know fashion, because they grew up seeing the same images you did. They were under the spell too, measuring beauty by White standards and expecting us to conform to them. I remember going to a club in the 90s where the crowd was mixed—Black, White, Asian, all shades and backgrounds. The young Black men in that space? They weren’t looking at me. It felt like I was invisible, like I didn’t exist in their eyes. I wasn’t straight-haired enough, light enough, or polished enough to compete with the standard they’d been conditioned to admire. That night, I left knowing one thing, I wouldn’t be socialising with that lot again! I ran back to the clubs where the crowd was 99.999% Black. Because even though I still had to succumb to the Eurocentric weight in those spaces—still had to keep my hair relaxed or wear the extensions to feel seen—at least there, I was seen. Choosing Your Own Standard So, who defines your beauty? Is it the advertisers selling you products to “fix” what isn’t broken? Is it the celebrities who conform to Eurocentric standards to remain palatable? Or is it you? Choosing your own standard of beauty is an act of liberation. It’s saying, “I see myself, and I am enough.” It’s celebrating the features that make you unique, whether it’s your rich skin tone, your thick thighs, or your full lips. It’s recognizing that beauty isn’t a one-size-fits-all concept—it’s as diverse and dynamic as we are. But let me pause here, because I know what I’m supposed to say next. I’m supposed to tell you to be bold, to stand strong, to define your own beauty unapologetically. And while I believe that wholeheartedly, I’m not here to tell you how to navigate this journey. The truth is, being a Black woman comes with enough stresses as it is. Yes, representation matters. Yes, we are the blueprint. But if wearing a weave makes you feel better about your appearance or makes your life a bit easier in terms of time and management, then you go ahead and wear that weave. Don’t beat yourself up about it, and don’t let anyone else beat you up about it either. Because here’s the thing: You could be fighting racism and oppression in ways no one sees. You could be pouring your love and care into raising the next generation, nurturing the next Denzel, Letitia Wright, or Raheem Sterling. Your strength, your beauty, your impact—it’s not always about what’s visible to the world. A Call to Black Women To
When I first sat down to write this blog post, the title immediately made me reflect: Goodbye Eurocentric Standards, Hello Black Beauty. This isn’t just a topic; it’s a revolution, and it holds profound significance for me as a Black woman and an author of self-help journals. Writing these journals has encouraged others to embrace their authentic selves, but in truth, it’s been a journey of self-acceptance for me, too. I realised that the messages I was sharing through my work—about healing, self-love, and resilience—were also my way of addressing something much deeper: my battle with beauty standards that were never meant to include me. Understanding Eurocentric Beauty Standards To unpack this, let’s start with the basics. Eurocentric beauty standards refer to the dominant ideals of beauty that are rooted in European culture and aesthetics. Historically, these standards favour features that align with European characteristics, such as light skin, straight or loosely curled hair, slim noses, and thinner body types. Colonialism, media representation, and societal norms have cemented these ideals over centuries. The problem with Eurocentric beauty standards is that they are narrow and exclusive. They promote a singular image of what they consider beautiful, and for women who don’t fit that mold—particularly Black women—this can profoundly impact self-esteem and body image. These standards go beyond individual preference; they shape how society views beauty on a global scale and, more significantly, how we view ourselves. Colonial power structures spread Eurocentric ideals for centuries, affecting how people perceived beauty worldwide. This led to the notion that features most commonly associated with Europeans were not just beautiful but superior. People in places like Africa, the Caribbean, and even in the West internalized these standards, often to the detriment of Black women. The remnants of these beauty ideals are still alive today, deeply ingrained in industries like fashion, Hollywood, advertising, and even everyday social interactions. How Eurocentric Beauty Standards Have Impacted My Life Growing up, I wasn’t immune to these standards. They shaped much of how I viewed myself. For many Black women, their lips and hips were often considered “too big,” and their skin tone and natural hair were rarely celebrated. Although people never scrutinized my lips and hips in this way, the messages about Black beauty still resonated deeply with me. I spent hundreds of pounds at hairdressers on weaves and extensions, all in an attempt to have hair that conformed to the European ideal of straight, long locks. The products and services that catered to my natural hair or skin colour were limited. A few brands like Iman and Sleek often restricted foundation shades for women like me, highlighting a glaring absence of representation. This lack of inclusion didn’t chip away at my self-worth, but it was a frustrating reminder of how racism manifests even in beauty products. But this wasn’t just my story—it’s the story of countless Black women. And it still is. The Damaging Effects on Self-Esteem and Body Image The pressure to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards can be suffocating. When the world repeatedly tells you that your natural appearance isn’t beautiful or acceptable, it’s hard not to internalise those messages. For many Black women, the impact of these standards is particularly damaging because it strikes at the core of our identity—our skin colour, our hair texture, our body shapes. In my own life, the effect on my self-esteem came not just from societal pressure but from how Black males perceived attractiveness. The number of men attracted to me fluctuated noticeably depending on whether my hair conformed to the European standard of straightness. It was a stark reminder of how deeply these beauty ideals had infiltrated even within our communities. Many Black women face similar experiences—being told that certain aspects of their appearance need to be “fixed” or “toned down” to be considered acceptable. This creates an internal conflict where we begin to question our inherent worth. If the world doesn’t see us as beautiful, how can we fully see ourselves that way? Body image also suffers under the weight of these beauty ideals. Curves that are natural to Black women are often viewed through a distorted lens. When non-Black women sport the same features, they are celebrated, but when Black women display them, they are deemed “too much” or overly sexual. The message makes it clear: society only accepts your body when you present it in a way that fits a Eurocentric narrative. Reclaiming Our Beauty So, what does it mean to break free from Eurocentric beauty standards? For me, it has been a journey of unlearning, rediscovering, and embracing the beauty that was always there—within me and all Black women. It’s about understanding that beauty comes in many forms, and the more we redefine what it means to be beautiful, the more empowered we become. While I haven’t fully embraced my natural hair yet, I now make it a point to use wigs, weaves, or extensions that mimic the texture of Black hair. Seeing other Black women proudly embrace their natural hair has been inspiring, and when I encounter Black women with straight, “blow-away” hair, I often think of how unenlightened or even backward that choice seems now. I realise that’s how I looked and thought back in the day. I also started seeking out representations of beauty that celebrated Blackness. This meant following social media influencers, reading books, and consuming media created by Black women for Black women. Seeing myself reflected in the world around me allowed me to realise that beauty is vast and diverse. There is no one way to be beautiful, and we should celebrate Black women for the full spectrum of our features. There’s also been a broader movement of Black women embracing self-affirmation, which has been transformative. It’s not just about me—it’s about all of us. More and more Black women are praising their skin for its richness, their hair for its versatility, and their bodies for their strength. This collective rewriting of the narrative is essential for
Hey Lovely, As a Slim Women in Black Culture, I’ve lived at the crossroads of contrasting beauty standards all my life. The push and pull between the full-figured ideal of my heritage. And the Western preference for thinness sketch a complex landscape that I, and many like me, navigate daily. Here’s my personal dive into the realities of straddling these divergent worlds. 1. The Cultural Rift in Beauty Ideals In the heart of my Black-British-Caribbean community, curves are celebrated; they’re synonymous with beauty, health, and femininity. This appreciation is more than skin deep—it’s woven into our history, our stories, our very definition of allure. Yet, I turn my gaze westward, and I find an entirely different paradigm, one that elevates thinness to the pinnacle of beauty. Standing here, in my naturally slim frame, I often feel adrift, belonging fully to neither, always partially scrutinized here and idolized there. 2. Navigating Dual Perceptions of Beauty Navigating the beauty ideals of my own culture while absorbing Western influences creates dissonance for me. My culture tells me that beauty lies in roundness and voluptuousness, yet I encounter another narrative that praises my slenderness as the ideal. This clash doesn’t just confuse me; it feels like speaking two languages without ever being sure which one is my mother tongue. I find temporary validation in Western standards, but I remain aware of its fleeting nature and the deeper inconsistency it reveals in societal beauty norms. 3. The Internal Conflict Inside me, there’s a continuous battle. Do I gain weight, change my silhouette, to align with the cultural beauty of my community? Or do I hold onto the Western admiration for my slimness? This internal tug-of-war pulls at the very seams of my identity, pitting my cultural loyalty against a personal acceptance that feels as tenuous as it is validating. 4. Representation Matters The media, our modern-day mirror, reflectsthe complex diversity of beauty in part and bias in part. In Black culture, while the tides are changing, the celebration of full-bodied women in mainstream visibility often overshadows the presence of slimmer figures like mine. Conversely, in Western media, inclusivity is growing, but the legacy of the slim ideal is hard to shake. This imbalance shapes how I perceive my own beauty and understand my place within both my culture and the Western narrative. 5. The Impact on Mental Health I cannot downplay the psychological toll this journey takes. When your body doesn’t match your cultural ideal, it can erode your self-image, self-esteem, and sense of identity. Western affirmation, though flattering, is not a panacea; it doesn’t fully reconcile the internalized conflict of belonging, leaving me to navigate a complex emotional landscape in search of acceptance and self-worth. 6. Finding a Middle Ground Finding equilibrium in this dichotomy is essential. For me, it’s meant defining beauty on my own terms, beyond the confines of culture or the mandates of society. It’s learning to cherish my body, to see the splendour in diversity, and to hold self-worth independent of any singular beauty standard. Cultivating a community that honours all bodies and initiating inclusive dialogues about beauty standards has become my salve and sanctuary. My journey to self-acceptance is intensely personal. It demands the deconstruction of deep-seated beauty ideals, a celebration of my unique form. And a vigilant guardianship over my mental and emotional well-being. Navigating these contrasting beauty standards is a road marked with challenges. But also rich with opportunities for empowerment and the affirmation of self. In this journey, I’ve found power—the power of choice. It’s the choice to define beauty for myself, to seek validation from within, to advocate for diversity in all its manifestations. Fostering an environment of acceptance and understanding is key to dismantling binary perceptions of beauty. And championing a broader, more inclusive celebration of all body types. My reality, shared by slim women straddling the beauty ideals of Black culture. And the West, is nuanced and often rife with contradiction. It’s a path that calls for resilience, self-awareness, and a fierce commitment to self-love. By valuing our unique qualities and advocating for inclusivity. We can redefine beauty on our own terms, closing the divide between cultural ideals and personal acceptance. Wishing you peace of mind Samanthia
Hello Lovely, I’ve lived within a rich cultural tapestry that holds its own distinct view of beauty. In my community, the preferred female form diverges significantly from the svelte figures lauded on Western fashion runways. This divergence is rooted in a deep cultural narrative that values heritage and aesthetics in a way that distinctly shapes the female identity. Here’s my personal reflection on the insights into the preferred female form in Black culture, and the journey that comes with it. 1. Celebration of Curves In my community, curves are not just preferred; they are celebrated. This is a preference etched deep in our cultural history and aesthetics, intertwining femininity, fertility, and health with a fuller body type. We turn away from the slender silhouettes of Western fashion, finding beauty instead in the ampleness of form. Our music, art, and media uplift these curvaceous figures, creating a cultural echo chamber where fullness is glorified. 2. Challenges for Naturally Slim Women In Black culture, people often celebrate curvier figures, which can challenge naturally slim women. The preferred female form emphasizes fuller hips, thighs, and a defined waist, putting pressure on slim women to conform to these ideals and potentially leading to body image struggles. Although body diversity is gaining recognition, the cultural preference for curvier shapes can make it hard for slim women to feel accepted. To overcome these challenges and celebrate all body types, embracing body positivity is essential. 3. Cultural Pressure to Conform Tradition, media, and societal norms have long influenced the preferred female form in Black culture. People often admire fuller, curvier figures, seeing them as symbols of strength and fertility. However, the cultural pressure to fit these beauty standards can be overwhelming. Many women feel the need to conform to a particular body shape, driven by societal expectations and media portrayals. Yet, it’s important to recognize self-worth beyond physical appearance. Navigating between personal choice and cultural ideals is a challenge, but women should define their own beauty and identity without feeling confined by external pressures. 4. The Specificity of Curves In Black culture, people highly celebrate the curvy female form, viewing it as a symbol of beauty, strength, and femininity. This preference for fuller figures traces back to historical roots, often linking them to prosperity, health, and abundance. Music, fashion, and media consistently elevate curvier body types, reinforcing their cultural importance. Unlike mainstream standards, Black communities see curves as a unique expression of pride and resilience. This enduring appreciation highlights how cultural beauty ideals focus on curves, which remain central to representing femininity and empowerment. 5. Navigating Body Image and Cultural Identity For women like me, our navigation of body image and cultural identity is a complex dance. It’s about reconciling the love for one’s natural body with external pressures and ideals. It’s also about recognizing these ideals as part of a cultural narrative that honours certain attributes as symbols of beauty and strength. The challenge lies in fostering self-love in an environment that doesn’t always celebrate our natural form. My path to self-acceptance has required me to see the beauty in diversity and affirm the worth of my own unique form. It has demanded a critical look at ingrained beauty standards and an understanding that these should not dictate my value. Advocating for body positivity and inclusivity within my culture is key in reshaping perceptions and broadening the scope of beauty to be more encompassing. Media and representation have immense power in defining and challenging beauty standards. By promoting visibility for all body types in media and entertainment, we chip away at the monolithic standards of beauty and celebrate a wider spectrum of forms. This representation is a powerful tool that encourages women to embrace their natural bodies and advocates for a more inclusive and accepting standard of beauty. In a culture where we deeply interweave the celebration of curves with our heritage and aesthetic values, the movement toward inclusivity and body positivity becomes more important than ever. Women like me, navigating the complex waters of preferred beauty standards, face a journey filled with both challenges and opportunities for growth. By embracing diversity and fostering a deeper, more comprehensive appreciation of beauty, we honour our culture while cherishing the unique beauty of every woman, regardless of her shape. Wishing you peace of mind Samanthia
Hello Lovely It’s me, and I’m here to peel back the layers on a subject that’s been tugging at the corners of my mind: the intricate, often unspoken realities of being slim women in the Western world. Here, where the narrative of beauty is spun with threads of contradictions and the journey toward self-acceptance is a winding road flanked by society’s ever-shifting beauty standards. Explore the complex realities of being a slim woman in the Western world, navigating beauty standards, stereotypes, and self-acceptance. In this world, my slimness has often been placed on a pedestal, a gold standard in the gallery of beauty. From the gloss of magazine covers to the glamor of fashion runways, being slender is more than just celebrated; it’s heralded as the hallmark of attractiveness. This pervasive message weaves itself into the fabric of society, hinting that to be thin is to be healthy, desirable, and successful. But let me tell you, those like me experience a reality textured with complexities and challenges that extend far beyond what the eye can see. 1. The Idealization and Isolation While the world idealizes slim women figures, it also wraps me in a tapestry of stereotypes and misconceptions. People often make assumptions about my eating habits, my lifestyle, and my strength. Phrases like “real women have curves” echo in the air, leaving me and others who share my body type feeling like outsiders in our skin, as though we’re existing in a state of paradox—desired yet not wholly embraced. 2. The Pressure to Conform to a ‘Perfect’ Standard This Western adoration of slimness doesn’t stop at thinness; it obsesses over an elusive, perfect version of thin—defined abs, toned arms, and other exacting physical traits. The pressure of this pursuit of perfection is like chasing the horizon, forever out of reach, with goalposts that dance just beyond my grasp. It’s an unattainable standard that breeds inadequacy and self-doubt within me. 3. Empathy for the Body Positivity Struggle Curiously enough, there’s a silver lining of shared experiences in this struggle—regardless of whether you’re a slim women, curvy, or anywhere in between. We understand the sharp bite of body shaming and the ludicrous demand to contort ourselves into society’s narrow molds of beauty. This common thread binds us. It underscores the vitality of a body positivity movement that sings the gospel of accepting every body type. 4. Navigating the ‘Slim Thick’ Phenomenon Enter the “slim thick” trend—a body ideal that merges being slender with being curvy. While it waves the flag of inclusivity, it carves out yet another elusive ideal. It’s a testament to the fickle nature of beauty standards. It reflects the relentless pressure to sculpt our bodies to fit the flavor of the day. For someone naturally slim like me, it’s yet another reminder that societal approval often arrives with a list of conditions. The antidote, I believe, is to cultivate a culture steeped in acceptance and self-love. It’s about broadening the lens through which we view beauty and challenging the monolithic portrayal of attractiveness. For me, it means holding my natural physique close and understanding my value extends beyond the confines of my appearance. I firmly reject the idea that I need to transform to meet an arbitrary ideal. Self-care has become my anthem on this journey. It’s a commitment to nurturing my mental, emotional, and physical well-being and seeking support when the shadows grow long. I rejoice in the singular traits that make me, me. It’s about reauthoring the narrative of beauty to celebrate health and happiness above the pursuit of societal acceptance. So, here’s to lifting each other, recognizing beauty in its boundless forms, and tearing down the walls of societal standards. Let’s champion a world that celebrates everyone, recognizes, cherishes, and frees the many shades of beauty.
