how much does it cost to be pretty?
how much does it cost to be pretty?
like in literal american dollars ?$?$?$?$?$?$?$?$
A few years ago, I saw a plastic surgeon. I was writing this piece for Chicago Magazine, and the goal was to find out what it would take for a regular person (me) to become, like, really pretty.
The answer: $46,000.
Obviously I needed an eye lift ($15,000) because if we know anything about today’s Instagram beauty standards, the look is STARTLED, HUNTY. With a touch of Dr. Spock.
The surgeon also suggested rhinoplasty ($15,000) to bring up the tip of my nose and scoop the bridge, giving me an ideal cutie-patootie schnoz a la Jessica Alba. And I’d also need buccal fat removal ($15,000), to get the current HERE ARE MY CHEEKBONES, GODDAMMIT Hollywood look.
Included in the buccal fat removal would be the insertion of said fat into my chin to prevent my chin from turning “witchy”—a possibility I’d never even considered!!!—and then of course a nice dose of lip filler ($1,200) for a grand total of: $46,200.
Since I’m just a random mother living in the Midwest, it was pretty easy to reject the idea that I need to invest 46k to be “pretty.” For one, I don’t have 46k. For two, I don’t helm a TV show on Netflix or need to appear on the cover of Vogue. I have a lot of empathy for the women who are under that kind of pressure in a world that wants them to look twenty-three and horny forever. (With that said, I’m not sure I need to see JLo topless ever again. Enough already!)
If I’m being honest, I do think the surgeon is right about my nose and I’d be interested in correcting the tip of it that is starting to wander to the left—a Gunn family trait. But then I think it seems sort of disrespectful to march into perimenopause with like a brand new face.
Disrespectful to what? Disrespectful to who? I mean, I have no idea. I guess disrespectful to all those articles about emotional labor and the patriarchy that I’ve read? It seems rude to them. Maybe it’s rude to my girl Kamala who’s out on these streets fighting the good fight while I’m over here worried about my perfectly fine nose? There’s definitely better things I could be doing with my time. And money.
But even if I reject the idea that I need $46,200 to be pretty, and even if I decide that the many trials and tribulations that have brought me to middle age have finally taught me that I AM ENOUGH, my bank account continues to tell a different story.
I haven’t yet invested a big chunk of money on liposuction or a weeklong wellness vacation or an infrared sauna for my home, but I have, day by day, Sephora trip by Sephora trip, spent a shit ton on beauty. Way more than I think I have.
Here’s an example. In preparation for the release of my novel (6/24/25!!!!!!!!) I got new headshots. This required a ridiculous amount of beauty prep, driven by me and my own insanity. I got a cut and color ($300), an eyebrow lamination ($170), I purchased new Chanel foundation (good for photos and performing on stage, $55) and a pair of fake eyelashes that didn’t look too fake ($20) and a new blush brush because without the buccal fat removal, I gotta carve that shit out myself ($25). A whopping $570 and I haven’t even paid the photographer yet.
Which got me thinking—just how much money am I spending every year to look like this?
And, let’s be clear, I don’t even look like this! This is professional lighting, professional photography, professional retouching. And generally I don’t wear fake eyelashes and I’m too lazy to put on a strapless bra and no one follows me around to make sure my hair’s laying right. I don’t look this good. But I’m spending a lot of money trying too!
Let’s start with hair. I spend a lot of time, energy, and cash on this coif. Cut and color every twelve weeks ($1200 per year). I definitely like to try new shampoos and hair oils and random sprays and balms ($800-$1,000 per year???). Styling tools like this Dry Bar blow-dryer brush ($155) are important, and so are Biotin hair vitamins ($9.99) to keep this shit growing.
The face though, that’s where I’m spending the money I should be saving for the kid’s college. Botox every twelve weeks ($1200 per year). Approximately once a year I get Juvederm in my laugh lines and corners of my mouth ($800). I love to get my eyebrows laminated ($170 with tip) and I get a facial about four times a year ($600). I estimate my skincare routine costs me about $100 per month ($1200 per year), though it could be more, but I don’t want to know because I don’t want to give it up. For example, Instagram just sold me these face masks I’m super excited to try ($25) and I just bought this Dr. Jart Cicapair Color Correcting Treatment to address the redness in my cheeks and as soon as I put it on I was like, oh fuck, now I need this forever ($54). I want to say I spend $50 a month on makeup, but this feels like a lie. Still, this list has gotten insane and I’m semi-mortified, so I’m sticking with it ($600 per year).
This of course doesn’t include miscellaneous beauty or beauty-adjacent items like nails ($1800 per year), Pilates ($1800 per year), Peloton ($528 per year), the body lotion I like ($240 per year), bubble bath / bath oil, and, oh my god, clothes and shoes and accessories.
Writing this list, honestly, I started feeling vulnerable like I’ve been doing something very bad or wrong. I told my bestie Elizabeth and she cheered me up immediately by reminding me that “Beauty is VERY expensive. Just even a mid level moisturizer!” and that when she stayed at my house a couple years ago, she made a whole video investigating my products.
(This video is hilarious and I swear by that oil cleanser and the Ole Henriksen Truth Serum. Here’s my skincare routine in case you would also like to fritter away your child’s college fund!!!!!!!!)
What can I say, I was born in 1980 and socialized in a world where the currency was beauty and if women weren’t serving it then, bitch, you were roasted. I have never once thought that not caring was an option. I was too busy reading Sweet Valley High and taking Seventeen quizzes to find out what kind of girl I was.
Add in a healthy dose of capitalism and the explosion of the beauty industry and a social media landscape with 24/7 selling power—well, here we are, with me forking over thousands of dollars per year attempting to look forever thirty-eight.
Pamela Anderson continues to make headlines over the fact that she has the audacity to leave the house without make up on.
Basically no one is as naturally gorgeous as Pamela Anderson and it’s disturbing how just being in the world as herself is so fucking alarming to people. Girlfriend is fifty-seven years old and she’s reclaiming her time!
I wonder if I’m tiptoeing towards some invisible tipping point where I’ll either lean in harder (facelifts and tummy tucks, oh my) or lean out like Pammy and settle into myself as a homebody who likes to write stories and knit hats and eat pizza and play Monopoly with my kiddo and walk my dog by the lake, and maybe I do not need a ten step skincare routine to do those things.
We’re not there yet.
Right now we’re here.
Spending 10k a year to look this good.
It is so brave of you to do this math—I never want to know how much I spend on beauty! At least you’re getting your money’s worth—forget thirty-eight, you look thirty-six!
Have you read any of Jessica DeFino's work? Early in her career she worked on the Kardashian apps, now her writing focuses on how the beauty industry is held up by the pillars of capitalism, patriarchy, and colonialism. Her stuff is so good and really helps reframe beauty standards around aging and unpack all of those deep seated feelings.