Remember the tyranny of “core”? You know: normcore, gorpcore, balletcore, cottagecore, linsert-any-word-here-core. For the past few years, the overworked suffix has provided a shortcut for identifying new online trends, a snappy linguistic trick to quickly sort through the myriad of subcultures lurking on the internet. Annoying but ultimately harmless. The unofficial suffix of 2026, however, is a little more unsettling – not because of how it looks or sounds, but because of what it's come to represent.
This year, everyone is “maxxing” something. Maybe you've deleted all the apps off your phone to aid your “frictionmaxxing” efforts, or perhaps you're embracing “whimsymaxxing” by going stargazing. No? Well, you've probably at least heard of “looksmaxxing”, the incel-adjacent self-improvement trend that encourages young men to embrace extreme grooming advice to achieve optimum attractiveness. Now, that particular strand of the maxxing fad is getting a feminine rebrand: the era of beautymaxxing is upon us.
It's not everywhere just yet. But over the past week, the word has popped up on my feed with increasing frequency. One influencer lists the best treatments she received on a “beautymaxxing” vacation to Korea (lifting treatments, microneedling with exosomes and UltraCol, in case you're wondering). Another explains how, in order to maximise my appearance, I need “to think of myself like a mannequin”, analyse my features and “understand my own formula”.
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In the grand scheme of the $450 billion beauty industry, these statements are not particularly groundbreaking or shocking. We, as women, are more than accustomed to being told we need to look better. But the rapid cooption of what began as incel slang into mainstream beauty should be a cause for concern. Unlike “core”, the maxxing fad is less about identifying with an aesthetic and more about altering your behaviour to extremes, whether you're maxxing out on fun or punishing wellness routines. And as we've seen through lookmaxxing influencers such as Clavicular, it can be a slippery slope – one that, if his own reported grooming routine is anything to go by, disguises drug addiction and self-harm as self-care.
Do women really need our own version of this? No. It already exists. In 2023, more than 70 percent of women and girls aged 17 to 25 were found to have possible eating problems; recent NHS reports show a 64 per cent increase in body dysmorphia referrals over the last three years. Whether explicit or covert, society has always found ways to convince women that they're not good enough, that there's always room for improvement, that we should definitely buy another £60 serum to finally unlock our full potential. We watch young women vlog trips abroad to receive BBLs and face lifts on TikTok; the algorithm is constantly feeding us new tips and tricks to “glow up”, from lip flips to filler. You can't avoid it. Beautymaxxing is intrinsically baked into the experience of being a woman.
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Except now we have a name for it. And, worryingly, it's being embraced. Don't get me wrong, I participate in the beauty standard. I wear makeup and indulge in the occasional facial; I have too many products in my bathroom cupboard and have wasted too much money on expensive haircuts. This is partly because I feel like I have to look presentable to be socially accepted, but also because I enjoy it. It's easy to understand the allure of the looks-and-beautymaxxing doctrine: the promise that, if you prioritise improving your appearance, doors will open and life will magically become easier. As pretty privilege shows us, it's not even necessarily a lie. According to a 2025 survey, 75 per cent of people believe good-looking people are more respected, while 56 per cent think physical attractiveness impacts their treatment at work. Just look at our cultural landscape, where beautiful faces dominate music, film and TV.
This, of course, is nothing new. But our accelerating obsession with measuring up to the genetically blessed is warping our judgement and values. The danger of beautymaxxing isn't necessarily the age-old pursuit of beauty itself, but the ideology that lies beneath it. Looksmaxxing's oft-forgotten origins as an alt-right buzzword reveal the true purpose of this trend: it's about conformity, individualism and upholding the status quo. It promises to teach us how to climb the social hierarchy via aesthetics, while narrowing the boundaries of what beauty is allowed to be. It wants us to look our best, not feel it.
We can't escape the beauty standard. You might not even want to. But we shouldn't keep making it harder to keep up with. Spending every penny and drop of energy on treatments and skincare regimes drains the life out of us – even as we try to inject it back in. Beautymaxxing wants us to believe that the key to happiness and success can be found in our own reflections. We've already stared at ourselves for long enough to know that's not true.
