“Ma’am, whitening pack?” It’s the bhajan that welcomes virtually any woman that walks into a cosmetics store. It used to be when one is honey-toned or more of a hazelnut complexion, but now the fairness fight has spread like an epidemic to those who were born with the ‘light bulb look’ for which many Indian people still strive.
Despite growing up surrounded by such indoctrination, I bypass the stark white bottle of what is essentially chemical bleach and peruse the shelves. I briefly turn to the saleslady who is eyeing me with a hopefulness and say, “No whitening products, please,” and continue to browse. Usually they back down or offer something more disguised, but the saleswoman says, “But ma’am, end of summer, kadaa, so you can de-tan.”
Ah, yes, the ‘end of summer’ angle. Despite being an often recycled topic, the monsoon brings with it the bleak cloudiness shielding us from the harsh sun, allowing cosmetics salespeople, as instructed by companies and store managers, to continue to barrage consumers with products they may not even be interested in.
In the last 48 hours, an array of products in Singapore have tested positive for mercury; and with India’s fast-growing fascination with South-East Asian beauty products, these products are making their way onto Indian skin. Other prohibited ingredients of these products to look out for include tretinoin and hydroquinone which are essentially prescription chemicals.
On that note salespeople are not entirely to blame— cosmetics companies have long silently partnered with old conservatism to promote products that continue to disseminate unhealthy self-image for the masses. In fact, most saleswomen are dark-skinned, and have also fallen prey to the same system.
In most of the pollution-heavy cities, de-tanning can prove a vital part of detoxing the skin. But when we are encouraged to slather ourselves in melanin-altering product, it still seems feasible. It is at this point I turn to the saleslady and ask, “Will this make me fair?” She admits there are some fairness properties, so I rebut, “So if my face is one colour, what about the rest of me? Do I have to buy seven bottles of this?” She seems genuinely stumped— it’s not her fault. Her purpose is to make a commission while doing as she is instructed. I decline the product and move on. End of summer or not, I aspire to remain the same shade.
