As we re-evaluate our spending and sort our purchases into needs and wants, beauty can feel hard to place
“I’ve stopped getting acrylics, sunbeds and haircuts. I used to get my nails done every month, and get balayage done. Now I’m giving myself haircuts and doing my own nails because there’s just no way I can afford it anymore,” says 24-year-old communications consultant Siobhan Fitzsimons. “It’s heartbreaking to be working so hard and in real terms to be earning less money than I did when I first left uni. I’m living in my overdraft, and when I’ve been paid I think ‘oh I’ll treat myself and get nails done’ and then I look at my balance and it’s just not even an option.”
The cost of living crisis is forcing everyone to rethink where and what they are spending money on, and to cut back on both essentials like food and ‘non-essentials’ including beauty. According to an analysis of 100 beauty salons in the UK, average sales dipped by almost 20 per cent in September, with the average customer spend falling by more than 30 per cent. Mintel found that more than half of women in their twenties have reduced their beauty and skincare routines in the last year, due to increased financial pressures, while Avon reports that one in ten people have given up make-up. A survey by UpCircle also found that one in five UK shoppers are concerned about not being able to afford skincare products.
“I’ve stopped everything – I don’t get my nails done, lashes laminated, brows waxed and I’ve stopped getting filler,” says Jasmine Douglas, founder of Babes on Waves. “Beauty treatments were the first to go because they’re not ‘essentials’ even though they are so necessary for my well-being. I haven’t felt hot in ages and it’s definitely impacting my confidence. I’m socialising less and it’s put a strain on my relationship as I don’t feel sexy anymore.”
As we re-evaluate our spending and sort our purchases into needs and wants, beauty can feel hard to place. It’s a luxury that feels like a necessity; a ‘nice to have’ that is increasingly feeling like a must in order to participate in society. Just last year, Prime Minister Rishi Sunak described beauty as an “essential service” providing “things that can’t be measured on spreadsheets… a sense of confidence and self-esteem”.
For many women, the cost of living crisis has highlighted the societal pressures to maintain a beauty routine and adhere to an increasingly unattainable standard they can no longer afford to meet. While the financial freedom to participate in beauty culture has dissipated for many, the pressures to present a certain way have not. The result can feel cruel, as many women are left in a liminal space – painfully aware they’re being penalised for not participating in beauty culture, but without the means to do so. For some, letting go of their routines is not an option, no matter what the cost.
“I feel a bit stubborn about changing my routines and I’m really not accepting of this recession,” says 29-year-old executive producer Amber Bateman. “I am in debt, but I have so much resentment about how the last ten years have been handled economically and politically; there’s a bit of anarchy in the air. I’ve swapped all of my food shopping and we’re careful with our heating, but I’m not willing to compromise on beauty. It makes me feel like a human being.”
Beauty is something many of us are reluctant to give up. Even during a cost of living crisis, 32 per cent of British people are refusing to stop spending on beauty products and treatments, recent research from HyperJar found. “I would literally rather freeze in my own home than have bad hair,” says 24-year-old Charlotte Drinkall. “I would so much rather have perfect hair and skin than spend money on food and drink out.”
“I’ve swapped all of my food shopping and we’re careful with our heating, but I’m not willing to compromise on beauty. It makes me feel like a human being” – Amber
While expressing an interest in and being seen to visibly invest in beauty work is often derided as trivial, vain and self-indulgent, it is at the same time positioned as necessary not only to unlock self-worth but to have value as a human being. “Beauty treatments for me are a necessity,” says 30-year-old Winnie Akadjo. She has cut back on getting everything done from a monthly basis to every two months, and swapped to a natural hairstyle to cut costs. “I work in fashion, you don’t want to come in with your nails chipped and your hair not done. It’s a huge part of professionalism.”
The reality is that beauty work is an entirely rational and valuable pursuit in our hyper-visual digital culture. As we consume hundreds of ‘perfected’ beauty images daily, the threshold for our base level of beauty is only getting higher, and adherence is an investment that for most women, pays off. In countless studies, beauty work brings considerable advantages – both real and symbolic – from an increased ability to make friends and form relationships, to better employment outcomes. Women who invest their time and money into beauty labour stand to earn 40 per cent more than their ‘poorly groomed’ counterparts, whilst beautiful people are considered to be more trustworthy, competent and confident.
“Cutting back on beauty treatments is definitely affecting my self-esteem, I feel like a faded version of myself,” says 27-year-old Eniye Okah. “I’m in a relationship and I know my partner doesn’t care if I’ve had a wax, but I do, because I’ve always felt like I needed to do that. I work in an office and I think it might look unprofessional if my nails aren’t done in front of clients. I don’t feel like I have a clean look for work anymore and I don’t feel as confident.”
The cost of living crisis and its impact on our beauty spend is triggering a shadow crisis: a crisis of confidence. Perfectionism among young women is increasing as we spend more time online, and more time exposed to an unattainable beauty ideal. It’s a huge confidence killer, as the gap between what’s achievable and what’s not, is widening. “When you’re looking on social media, it feels like everyone else around you is able to go ahead and continue affording beauty treatments. It feels alienating,” says Siobhan. “I feel like I’ve been priced out of being able to look pretty, there’s a financial threshold, and if you can’t spend money on beauty treatments, you’re stuck.”
In setting out to write this article, I had hoped to speak to women who had been forced to abandon beauty treatments, only to discover they felt just as confident, beautiful and worthy without the additional aesthetic labour. At every turn, I found the exact opposite.
Perfectionism and lack of confidence mean a reluctance to take risks, seize opportunities and a consistent doubting of ability and self-worth that impacts all areas of life, and it’s marginalised women that are most at-risk. Evidence from the Women’s Budget group shows that women are already disproportionately affected by economic crises – cutbacks to social security compound the lower salaries women receive as a result of the gender pay gap. Women also pay more for mortgages, car loans, and due to the Pink Tax, hygiene and beauty products. “It costs to be a woman, in more ways than one,” adds Siobhan. “I can’t afford to get my hair cut, but it’s far more affordable for my brother to get his hair done at the barbers. It’s a quarter of the price, and it just feels really unfair.”
According to research, 25 per cent of people plan to swap their salon treatments for DIY fixes: cutting and dyeing their hair at home, trimming instead of visiting a salon for a wax, and buying UV gel lamps for longer-lasting manicures (DIY gel nails now has 2.4 billion views on TikTok). Meanwhile, searches for “cheap make-up” have increased by 77 per cent, with a further 32 per cent of consumers planning to shop around for the cheapest price for beauty treatments instead of visiting their regular salon. Whilst this discount-hunting might seem harmless for haircuts and manicures, it raises concerns within the aesthetics industry, in which unregulated practitioners compete to inject and augment women’s bodies at ever cheaper (and ever riskier) rates.
In setting out to write this article, I had (perhaps naively) hoped to speak to women who had been forced to abandon beauty treatments, only to discover they felt just as confident, beautiful and worthy without the additional aesthetic labour. At every turn, I found the exact opposite. The need now feels even greater, the value of beauty work magnified. “The minute I can afford treatments again I’m going back!” says Jasmine, echoing every other woman I interviewed for this piece. “In cutting back, I actually realised I need them even more so,” adds Eniye. “I'm looking at my ugly nails and it’s just like ‘ah, life is getting worse.”