Weekly WTF

A serum purchased by my seven-year-old.

It’s custom in our family to treat the kids to milkshakes, ice cream, or under-ten-dollar toys following vaccinations, so this weekend, after my husband took the two older kids for their Covid boosters, he took ‘em to Target.

My oldest kid came home with a balloon rocket launcher thing that kept all three kids occupied for most of Saturday morning which makes it a wild success in my mind, and my daughter came home with . . . a FACIAL SERUM.

Now listen, I have complicated thoughts about skincare, gender, and patriarchy (see here, here, and here), but my daughter has always loved playing with my various lotions and potions, and since her enjoyment of the various lotions and potions has thus far been akin to her enjoyment of Silly Putty, glitter, stickers, and finger paint, I’m not terribly concerned with her internalizing any toxic beauty culture crap from the practice. Obviously, I’m not giving her access to fucking acids or whatever, and I’m careful to emphasize that makeup and skincare is [or at least, should be] a choice (not a necessity or part and parcel of “good womanhood”), and sorta like a hobby. I realize it’s more complicated than that, but I’m reasonably confident this reasoning is working right now. I’m sure, with time, we’ll have more conversations about WHY the cult of skincare IS a cult, but for now, my daughter is seven. And that’s where we’re at.

She likes smelling various scents. She likes feeling different textures. And mostly, I think, she likes lotions and potions because she likes playing “grownup” more than just about anything else. Just like she enjoys making “work calls,” or thumping away on old keyboards or filling the kitchen sink up with bubbles to “do the dishes,” so too does she like rubbing my creams on her face and wearing my jewelry.

So I’m not WTFing the fact that she decided to buy an under-ten-dollar serum for her post-shot treat, but that this particular serum is marketed to CHILDREN.

Here’s the back-of-bottle copy:

Like sunshine in a bottle, this primer serum is sure to brighten your day and your complexion with Sunflower oil, Vitamin C, Niacinamide. The nourishing formula preps, primes, and refines skin for longer lasting makeup application.

One might argue that perhaps this PRIMER serum is not explicitly marketed to children (the demographic bracket most likely to gravitate towards yellow cartoon bears), but the type of adult consumer who appreciates 90s pop nostalgia. But I think such an argument is bullshit. Sure, adult consumers with fond memories of Funshine Bear might be likely to buy this serum for the sake of kitsch, but CHILDREN comprise the consumer group most likely to pick up an object emblazoned with rainbows and Care Bears. And CHILDREN should not be worrying about whether or not their makeup will “last” long enough. CHILDREN should not be familiar with the word “complexion.” CHILDREN should not be concerned with whether or not their skin is “refined” enough. CHILDREN should not know what Niacinamide is.

Children should not be introduced to the false equivalency between adhering to externally mandated beauty standards and internal well-being at the age of seven.

“Brighten your day and your complexion.”

This particular WTF isn’t super mom-centric, but I think it’s worth noting how early our culture starts encouraging consumer behavior that contributes to gender performance. And both gender performance AND consumer behavior are central to understanding why momfluencer culture (and the institution of motherhood in general) is so ideologically complicated (and sometimes infuriating).

I emailed our queen of beauty culture dismantlement, Jessica DeFino, and she had this to say about my daughter’s serum purchase.

Selling "brightening" serum for kids and sheet masks for infants is just another version of disaster capitalism. The disaster is that beauty culture has all but destroyed any hope that any of us, at any point in our lives, will feel good enough as we are. And while products like this are awful, they're really not surprising. The beauty industry's big crusade is "anti-aging," and seeing as how aging is just another word for living, it makes sense that it would start targeting "customers" from the moment the aging/living begins — all the better to hook them 'til death! With this particular serum, the Care Bears motif feels like an aged-down version of the way the beauty industry tries to disguise (often violent!) forms of aesthetic manipulation as "care," "health," "empowerment," "me time," "fun," or "self-expression." But overall, the way that beauty culture glorifies the appearance of youth while ensuring youths are filled with appearance insecurity from the get-go reminds me of gun culture: It's all "children are the future" until it's time to save them from being killed by gun violence. Like I said in a recent newsletter: "An arsenal of weaponry, an arsenal of skincare products — both are anti-aging."

If you have not yet subscribed to Jessica’s newsletter, truly WHY.

Happy Tuesday everyone, and as ever, I am extremely open to WTF nominations. Is the copy on your shampoo bottle making you feel things? Which brand has most recently tried to sell you something by evoking your “busy mom” lifestyle? When was the last time you felt gaslit as a mom and was there a product involved? DID YOU COME ACROSS A SATIN BAGUETTE BAG RECENTLY?

Feel free to throw any WTF noms in the comments or just reply to this newsletter and email me directly!