The last time I had a facial was at a luxury wellness resort in Santorini. On arrival, I was handed a brochure filled with high-end treatments and settled on the bespoke facial. Ensconced in a robe on a heated massage table, with my curls held away from my face by a towel, I suddenly panicked: despite the air of indulgence, would a technician who looks nothing like me know what to do with my skin?
While I might sound like I was unduly overthinking, for Black women, there’s a real fear that beauty practitioners often don’t know how to handle our hair or skin. Laser treatments have surged in popularity in recent years, yet Black women have been subject to permanent scarring and even third-degree burns because some aestheticians aren’t properly trained in how to treat Black skin.
While there seems to be some progress, with beauty brands like Charlotte Tilbury and Dr. Barbara Sturm championing a more inclusive approach with their product offering, the options for women with dark skin tones are still limited across the board and, in some case, inherently harmful.
The damaging impact of Eurocentric beauty standards
As a Black woman with light skin, I know that I experience a degree of privilege in comparison to people with dark skin tones. However, I’m acutely aware that I still exist outside of Eurocentric beauty ideals. Growing up, I thought my brown skin, brown hair and brown eyes were monotonous and unexciting. I yearned to have blonde hair and striking blue eyes like my best friend.
Into adulthood, I see this pain persist for women of colour who are constantly reminded that they’ll never fit the mould. Black women are still described as ‘ugly’ for having larger noses. And while our naturally fuller lips are snubbed, non-Black women are hailed for popularising the look through filler.
“In many regions, colonial histories reinforced the idea that Western appearance equated to modernity, success or higher social status,” says Teresa Tan, a Nigerian-Japanese cosmetic skin nurse who runs her own London-based practice, Tan & Co. “Even now, beauty influencers and brands with Western aesthetics dominate platforms such as Instagram, TikTok and YouTube.”
Teresa explains that for some Black people, the feeling of not fitting in can be inescapable. “When you’re constantly bombarded by those messages from social media, within your community and even in day-to-day life, it’s easy to internalise them, particularly if you’re young, still finding your identity and not yet grounded in your sense of self.”
Why reclaiming social media is key
Although social media has its drawbacks, Teresa says that Black skincare experts and aestheticians are using it as a tool to promote diversity within the beauty space. “Social media has amplified our voices, allowing us to challenge outdated narratives and showcase beauty in all its forms,” she states.
“Many of us are educating clients and fellow professionals about the unique needs of melanin-rich skin: how to treat it safely, which ingredients work best and how to prevent conditions like hyperpigmentation or keloid scarring. In doing so, we’re raising the overall standard of care across the industry.”
Fellow practitioner Jamie Finley-Scriven, who has her own practice, Reminisce, in South Carolina, believes that this lack of education is the root of the issue. “I’ll never forget reading in my aesthetics textbook [while training] that Black skin was ‘tough, oily, and leathery'," she says. "That line alone reveals how deeply stereotypes have been embedded in professional education.”
Teresa knows the damaging impact of such ignorance firsthand. “Some clients have shared experiences of clinics where practitioners have undermined their self-esteem, making micro-aggressive comments or implying that they are less attractive.”
The skincare specialists demystifying cosmetic treatments for Black women
It’s this discrimination that often leads Black women to feel rejected by the cosmetic treatment space and that certain procedures aren’t for them.
“For a long time, aesthetics has been coded as a white, Eurocentric luxury, meaning frozen foreheads and razor-sharp noses," says skincare specialist and content creator, Dr Kemi Fabusiwa. "There’s this idea that if you get fillers or tweakments, you’re somehow trying to look white or erase your Blackness.”
Dr Fabusiwa is working to remove shame from the conversation around cosmetic enhancements for Black women in particular. “I talk about injectables the same way I talk about SPF or exfoliation, as a legitimate, evidence-based option that’s about maintenance, not transformation. When Black women see someone who looks like them discussing Botox or filler confidently without euphemism, it normalises it.”
When it comes to receiving injectables, Black women have unique needs. “The best injectors understand that every face tells its own story," Dr Fabusiwa explains. "For Black women, that means respecting natural volume, undertones and proportions, not erasing them. We have more melanin protection and distinctive facial architecture, so how we approach prevention and rejuvenation should look different.”
Nicola Wiafe, who owns the clinic Ayimaa Aesthetics, is well-versed in this area. “Research has shown that Black skin can be more prone to dryness due to lower ceramide levels,” she explains. “That’s why treatments like skin boosters, which are basically high-strength injectable moisturisers, can be great for us as they add hydration to the skin at a deeper layer.”
Nicola highlights that when administering injectables, there are no major differences between the brands used and that the practical elements are largely the same. “But I don’t use brands that can’t provide evidence that their products are safe and effective on Black skin. Why would I choose to stock brands that don’t treat people who look like me?” She notes that there are key considerations across all skin types, but being “thoughtful, informed and inclusive” with each client is the correct approach.
Teresa echoes this point. “We are not a monolith – [I aim to] de-influence negative self-talk and misconceptions,” she says, while providing services such as LED light therapy, microneedling and chemical facials.
While Black skincare practitioners are greatly contributing to a shift in narrative around beauty standards, Teresa believes that the responsibility shouldn’t solely come from within the Black community. “Please stop saying ‘We treat ethnic skin’ because it sounds alienating,” she explains. “If you must use terms, try melanin-rich skin or Fitzpatrick types IV–VI and make sure your knowledge genuinely backs that up.”
Jamie emphasises the significance of making every client feel welcome: “A single genuine compliment can shift someone’s entire day, reminding them of the power and beauty they already carry.”
Her comment reminds me of the bespoke facial I had in Greece, where I complained to the practitioner about the state of my blemishes intermixed with freckles. “It’s just where the sun has kissed you more than most,” she responded. A gentle reminder – right in front of my face – that Black is beautiful.
