“To be human is to be white. To be black or Asian is a variation of being a human.” Ruby Hamad
There is an overwhelming amount of evidence that supports the idea that Western standards of beauty have permeated and even, in some ways, shaped the global understanding of what it means to be beautiful. The growing pressure on people of colour to conform to Western beauty ideals has been fueled by the steady encroachment of Western values and popular culture on the rest of the world: Western movies, TV programmes, advertisements, and magazines have all played a role in creating a very specific and very limited mould that the global society struggles to fit.
Coming from Kenya, I have witnessed first-hand the impact Western beauty ideals have had on the way non-Western societies perceive beauty. From what I’ve seen, the influences of these ideals can range dramatically. Kenyan artist Ng’endo Mukii’s short film Yellow Fever (2015) explores how Kenyan women have been bowed under the pressure of a Eurocentric beauty ideal, and how the constant flood of images of Western beauty has shifted their perceptions of themselves. The opening scene of Mukii’s film tells of her encounter with a Kenyan hair dresser who is, in Mukii’s words, a mkoroko. Mukii uses the Swahili word for ‘mixed’ to describe the woman because she observed that parts of her body are different skin tones. In Mukii’s word’s, the woman “could only afford enough beauty cream to bleach her hands and face… her true ebony persists.” Skin bleaching is a dangerous and unreliable practice, but one that is very popular in Kenya. The pull of a lighter complexion affects Kenyan women of all creeds, from socialites and celebrities to sex workers. The idea that Kenyan men prefer lighter women is as prevalent in gated cul de sacs as it is in slums. Mukii used her animation to comment on how prevalent the white beauty image is in Kenyan lives. Eurocentric media bleeds into the Kenyan everyday, reinforcing the idea that these images and these women are something to aspire to. Mukii interviews her own niece for her film, who says that she wants to be “white, white, white” and that if she were magic, she would change herself to “white hair and white skin.” Mukii’s niece is already aware of a kind of hierarchy of beauty in the world, and how perhaps one kind of beauty is more important than another.
There is an overwhelming amount of evidence that supports the idea that Western standards of beauty have permeated and even, in some ways, shaped the global understanding of what it means to be beautiful. The growing pressure on people of colour to conform to Western beauty ideals has been fueled by the steady encroachment of Western values and popular culture on the rest of the world: Western movies, TV programmes, advertisements, and magazines have all played a role in creating a very specific and very limited mould that the global society struggles to fit.
Coming from Kenya, I have witnessed first-hand the impact Western beauty ideals have had on the way non-Western societies perceive beauty. From what I’ve seen, the influences of these ideals can range dramatically. Kenyan artist Ng’endo Mukii’s short film Yellow Fever (2015) explores how Kenyan women have been bowed under the pressure of a Eurocentric beauty ideal, and how the constant flood of images of Western beauty has shifted their perceptions of themselves. The opening scene of Mukii’s film tells of her encounter with a Kenyan hair dresser who is, in Mukii’s words, a mkoroko. Mukii uses the Swahili word for ‘mixed’ to describe the woman because she observed that parts of her body are different skin tones. In Mukii’s word’s, the woman “could only afford enough beauty cream to bleach her hands and face… her true ebony persists.” Skin bleaching is a dangerous and unreliable practice, but one that is very popular in Kenya. The pull of a lighter complexion affects Kenyan women of all creeds, from socialites and celebrities to sex workers. The idea that Kenyan men prefer lighter women is as prevalent in gated cul de sacs as it is in slums. Mukii used her animation to comment on how prevalent the white beauty image is in Kenyan lives. Eurocentric media bleeds into the Kenyan everyday, reinforcing the idea that these images and these women are something to aspire to. Mukii interviews her own niece for her film, who says that she wants to be “white, white, white” and that if she were magic, she would change herself to “white hair and white skin.” Mukii’s niece is already aware of a kind of hierarchy of beauty in the world, and how perhaps one kind of beauty is more important than another.
Why is white beauty seen as more desirable than black beauty, or Indian beauty, or Asian beauty? Why are European features held in higher esteem? Why does society insist that women of colour conform to an ideal that they can’t fit? A 2011 documentary called Dark Girls explores this; the film compiles the voices of dozens of black actors, actresses, psychologists and doctors, and discusses the hierarchy of the races. Psychologist Matthew Shenoda traces the root of this hierarchy to the days of colonialism. Kenya was colonised by the British Empire in the late 1800s, and Shenoda suggests that “…a cultural invasion into these countries [shifted] the perspective of people and [created] a sense of beauty, a sense of identity, and sense of superiority.” The relationship between the white British colonialists and the black Kenyans was that of boss and worker, which created a very distinct social divide. It is possible that this resulted in a glorification of whiteness. Kenyans only experienced white as “better”: more brutal, but more powerful and more successful. Kenyans were taught that the colonisers were superior. In another documentary called Bleach, Nip Tuck: The White Beauty Myth, a Professor David Babydeen talks about the effects of colonialisation, and how “the greatest impact of imperialism was sending a set of messages to the world about the supremacy of the white body: whiteness equals power, equals glamour, equals success.” Whilst the social divide between white people and black people may have died out with the gaining of its independence, Kenya still deals with the insidious messages that white bodies are superior, and white features and desirable. Probably the most common way Kenyan women attempt to assimilate white beauty is with their hair: wearing weaves, wearing wigs, and relaxing one’s hair is something I have seen almost every Kenyan woman I know do. Even in a predominantly black population, white hair is revered, held up far higher than natural hair. Hair is a symbol in Kenya: the whiter the hair, the more beautiful the woman.
It can be argued that while pressure to conform weighs heavy on the shoulders of non-Western societies, people of colour living in the Western world bear the brunt: “I think it’s really difficult to imagine the kinds of pressures that are put on black minorities in a white society that by and large still entertains very pernicious notions about racial inferiority.” (Professor David Dabydeen; Bleach, Nip, Tuck: The White Beauty Myth (2009)) In Western societies, there is a stigma against certain black features, features seen as “stereotypically black”; these features have been ridiculed in Western entertainment for years, through all media and genres. A disdain for these features has been passed through generations, tainting the Western black community with insecurity and self-hatred. Hair receives a large proportion of this ridicule. Comedian Chris Rock’s 2009 film Good Hair explores the black hair industry in America. According to Rock’s film, it is a $9bn a year industry, with women individually spending potentially tens of thousands a year on products like weaves and hair relaxer. Black women in America strive to achieve “good hair”, which seems to be anything but their own: “My mom is white… so my mom’s hair is silky and blonde and I’m like, ‘Why? Why didn’t I get your genetics?’ That was what I looked at as good hair: white hair.” Again, white features are seen as superior, white beauty is seen as the more worthy. Again, we see black women trying to fit into a very limited mould, one that simply doesn’t fit them.
“We consistently exist in a brighter worldwide white supremist framework where colour and one’s approximation of whiteness is valued around the world.” Dr. Daryl Rowe; Dark Girls (2011)
References
[1] Dark Girls (2011) [TV]. Directed by Bill Duke and D. Channisn Berry. OWN Network
[2] Bleach, Nip, Tuck: The White Beauty Myth (2009) Series 1, Episode 2. Channel 4
[3] Good Hair (2009) [Online]. Directed by Jeff Stilson. Chris Rock Productions & HBO Films, 0ctober 9
It can be argued that while pressure to conform weighs heavy on the shoulders of non-Western societies, people of colour living in the Western world bear the brunt: “I think it’s really difficult to imagine the kinds of pressures that are put on black minorities in a white society that by and large still entertains very pernicious notions about racial inferiority.” (Professor David Dabydeen; Bleach, Nip, Tuck: The White Beauty Myth (2009)) In Western societies, there is a stigma against certain black features, features seen as “stereotypically black”; these features have been ridiculed in Western entertainment for years, through all media and genres. A disdain for these features has been passed through generations, tainting the Western black community with insecurity and self-hatred. Hair receives a large proportion of this ridicule. Comedian Chris Rock’s 2009 film Good Hair explores the black hair industry in America. According to Rock’s film, it is a $9bn a year industry, with women individually spending potentially tens of thousands a year on products like weaves and hair relaxer. Black women in America strive to achieve “good hair”, which seems to be anything but their own: “My mom is white… so my mom’s hair is silky and blonde and I’m like, ‘Why? Why didn’t I get your genetics?’ That was what I looked at as good hair: white hair.” Again, white features are seen as superior, white beauty is seen as the more worthy. Again, we see black women trying to fit into a very limited mould, one that simply doesn’t fit them.
“We consistently exist in a brighter worldwide white supremist framework where colour and one’s approximation of whiteness is valued around the world.” Dr. Daryl Rowe; Dark Girls (2011)
References
[1] Dark Girls (2011) [TV]. Directed by Bill Duke and D. Channisn Berry. OWN Network
[2] Bleach, Nip, Tuck: The White Beauty Myth (2009) Series 1, Episode 2. Channel 4
[3] Good Hair (2009) [Online]. Directed by Jeff Stilson. Chris Rock Productions & HBO Films, 0ctober 9