K-Beauty

It isn’t all bubble masks and snail serums. Korean-American writer Hana Hong is here to expose what no one wants to, from skin shaming to plastic surgery.

- Hana Hong

My first experience with K-Beauty had nothing to do with mastering a 10-step routine but, instead, was the most relatable of all skin problems: a pimple.

It was my first one, which I remember clearly thanks to a man from my all-Korean church pointing it out in front of the entire congregation, ranting about how it’s such a shame when a woman’s skin is tarnished. In most communities, this would be unacceptable behavior, but for myself and many Korean women, these kinds of incidents were— and still are—the norm.

Growing up, my Korean community in Maryland (like many others) was fixated on female looks, discussing them in very direct, often brutal ways. References like “that girl with the flat nose” or “the woman with the fat face” were frequently tossed around, along with plastic-surgery suggestions. So while I admire the K-Beauty aisle for being a haven of self-care, I also see it as something else: the manifestation of wildly unattainable standards and a culture obsessed with physical perfection.