Walking through Central Park in the summer, my Filipino mother looks at the sunbathers on the lawn and reminisces: “I couldn’t imagine doing that when I was younger. Your grandmother would warn me to not get dark; it was long sleeves or staying indoors for us.”
While Western beauty standards often idealise a tan, many young people in Asian families internalize an obsession to stay as light as possible. This mindset is driven by colorism, defined by Merriam Webster as a form of systemic prejudice that favors lighter skin tones over darker in the same racial group. In the west, tanning gained popularity after the Industrial Revolution, when working indoors was associated with lower classes. Conversely, as not having to labor outdoors was a privilege, light skin has long been signified in Asia as a symbol of beauty and status. Despite taking opposite forms, both socially constructed standards aimed to divide people by class. But how did these historical forces make their way into the everyday lives and homes of Asians?
Across colonized Asia, from British-ruled India to French-ruled Cambodia, colonial powers subjected darker-skinned natives into labor and discrimination, while lighter-skinned people of mixed descent were socially elevated. These standards were passed on through generations of Asians and onto their children, and their children. Today, it’s common to be encouraged to stay inside to avoid the sun, wear layers of clothing in the burning heat, or use cosmetics to stay fair. This advice implicitly teaches children that their natural skin tone should be controlled, ensuring that colorism is instilled at home rather than dismantled.
Every day, this pressure is relentlessly reinforced by mainstream Asian media and the beauty industry. Skin-whitening ads continuously tell consumers that fair skin is the key to confidence, success, and beauty. Brands like India’s “Fair & Handsome” and “Glow & Lovely” use their very names as a way to promote skin whitening as the answer. Language like this in the media incites people to believe there’s something wrong with the way they are. It’s also impossible to escape this rhetoric online, from Bollywood actors starring in skin whitening ads, to a popular K-pop group TWICE partnering with a brand that sells products with nicotinamide to lighten skin. From South to East Asia, colorism is everywhere. If these beauty standards weren’t reinforced enough in households, Asians are constantly exposed to these ideals. In this way, colorism becomes a pressure people internalize before they learn to question it.
For teenagers, who are actively building their sense of identity and are highly sensitive to social acceptance, colorism has a serious psychological effect. Researchers determined that among South Asian girls exposed to colorism, they were found to have lower self-esteem, body esteem, and “skin shade satisfaction”. Constant messaging from peers, like unsolicited direct and indirect commentary on women’s bodies, creates a cycle of increased “skin-tone surveillance”, forcing teens into a state of self-consciousness that leads to long-term feelings of inadequacy into adulthood.
Teenagers and young adults alike turn to skin-lightening products, which make up an enormous $11.2 billion global industry. In India, lighteners make up over 60% of skincare shelves. Despite their immense popularity, users are often uninformed about the damage skin whiteners are doing to their physical health. Many of these products rely on dangerous chemicals such as hydroquinone, which can result in discoloration and structural collagen damage within 3-6 months, according to a 2023 case study. However, 89% of skin whitener users are unaware of these hazards. Not only does their use of these products put their own health and safety at risk, but it also benefits industries that capitalize on unhealthy beauty standards and capitalize on women’s insecurities.
In recent years, regulatory systems like the Philippines or China’s FDA have recalls of products with unsafe hydroquinone levels. Recently, the Philippines FDA recalled Kojiesan Skin Lightening Cleanser as a result. However, it took me less than 5 minutes to search for the product on Lazada, a popular online shopping platform for Southeast Asia, and many sellers were advertising and offering this product. Despite efforts, these skin whiteners are incredibly easy to access and put users at risk.
Evidently, relying solely on legal regulations is ineffective for handling flaws of skin whitening culture. Legally restricting a product does not affect the demand for it, and doesn’t stop people from harming themselves. In 2024, Ban Toxics called out e-commerce platforms like Lazada and Shopee for failing to monitor their sellers for harmful products. As long as customers believe they need fairer skin, there will be loopholes, and skin whiteners will still be used.
Legal action isn’t enough; colorism is what builds the demand for the entire skin whitening industry. Movements like India’s “Unfair & Lovely” fight against the root of colorism and celebrate dark skin. Activist groups such as this have made significant strides in raising awareness about colorist language and associations in media. “Unfair & Lovely” specifically has connected people to have conversations about colorism, encourage dark skin representation, and slowly heal from discrimination. By popularizing movements against skin color prejudice, Eurocentric beauty standards can be decentralized, and supportive, inclusive environments can be fostered to uplift all beauty.
All in all, the issue with skin whitening is a symptom of a much larger, global epidemic of colorism that impacts communities worldwide, beyond Asia. To protect future generations, we must consciously unlearn these biases by challenging everyday commentary about skin tone, and teaching young people that their worth is never defined by their shade. Only then can we ensure that children grow up free to step into the sun with pride.