“Janice Starlin has built her whole life on youth and beauty. Now that she’s losing them, she’s scared to death.”–The Wasp Woman, 1959.
Starting at a very early time, women have been taught that what we look like is more important than who we are. To value outer beauty rather than inner. And the influence is everywhere.
From the historical models of Renaissance paintings like El Greco’s Penitent Magdalene, which shows a red-headed Mary scantily clad in an off the shoulder dress, and a nude Aphrodite in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. To more modern-day starlets like Twiggy and Greta Garbo, beautifully sculpted women grace all manner of works of art, inspiring an unattainable and sometimes demoralizing goal in our society. Art critic John Berger explains in his book Ways of Seeing that this is purposefully done by artists to portray women as sexual objects meant to be viewed by male spectators. Yet while the days of corsets being worn tight enough to cause internal bleeding in favor of a thin waist are long gone, we still see the lasting effects of this unhealthy aspiration. 
On social media, girls of all ages post selfies, striving to have the perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect clothes and measuring their worth by how many likes each photo gets. And you can’t watch TV without being blasted by at least one commercial for age-defying cosmetics, gray-covering hair dye, or miracle weight loss diets. As of 2024, it’s estimated that 8.6% of women will have at least one eating disorder in their lifetime. Starting in my late teens until my early twenties, I suffered from anorexia nervosa, working out no less than 4 hours every day and sometimes more in order to achieve what I thought was the perfect body. My regimen consisted of 200 sit-ups (1000 on Fridays), 1000 crunches, 200 push-ups, 200 squats, 40 minutes of yoga, 20 minutes of dumbbell weights, and six miles of cardio, three running and three walking. And while in the beginning I ate enough to support my workout, after my daughter was born, I added dieting to the routine in an effort to get back to where I’d been pre-pregnancy. This eventually led to a violent immune system crash that landed me in the emergency room. After a several months long stint going from one doctor’s office to another, I walked away with a better outlook on my health and a long list of new allergies to avoid. But for many like me, the outcome is far bleaker.
So, where does the blame lie for this mental mind fuck that convinces women we are only as good as the sum of our bodies? The answer, I think, rests squarely at the feet of the beauty industry.
As Susan Sontag writes in her book On Women, “Beauty is the theater of their [women’s] enslavement… The standard of beauty in a woman of any age is how far she retains, or how she manages to simulate, the appearance of youth…”
The global beauty industry is currently valued at $646.2 billion, with no signs of slowing down. And why should it? The appeal to be young, healthy, and beautiful forever is a siren song of the greatest allure. Yet it is not without its dangers, and as the reach of media and literature continue to grow, more and more women are raising the alarm on this age-old taboo subject.
Mona Awad explores the cult-like nature of the beauty industry in her 2023 horror-comedy novel Rouge. Speaking at the 2014 Cheltenham Literary Festival, classicist Mary Beard said “reaching old age should be a source of pride.” Sharon Blackie echoes this sentiment in her well-titled work Hagitude: Reimaging the Second Half of Life, while Sharon Stone’s character in the 2004 remake Catwoman strives for the polar opposite to the point of becoming a villain. Yet perhaps no one portrays the dark, dangerous underbelly of the beauty industry better than Susan Cabot in her cult classic horror/sci-fi film Wasp Woman.
In the movie, a stark, terrifying take on the pressure the beauty industry puts on women and how far some people will go to retain that young and fresh glow, Cabot plays Janice Starlin, an enterprising entrepreneur and the head of Starlin Cosmetics. Her company has recently taken a dive in sales resulting from her no longer acting as the face of their products, and she turns to a doctor who offers her a revolutionary solution to her problems: an anti-aging serum of fountain of youth proportions made from the royal jelly of queen wasps. There’s just one problem.
Queen wasps operate very similarly to black widow spiders: carnivorous, these remarkable female creatures paralyze their mates and devour them alive. And soon, Janice transforms into a creature that is half-wasp, half-woman and feeding on her sexist male colleagues.
While the film contains a surprisingly enjoyable mix of feminism and science, its underlying message is clear: that pushing women to achieve an impossible standard is dangerous, often deadly, and downright unhealthy. And it’s time for us to listen.
Time for women to love the person we see in the mirror no matter what others say. To treat ourselves with the care and respect we deserve. To speak about ourselves and others with kind words instead of insults, and use more natural products that don’t flood our bodies with toxins. To laugh and smile and admit our age with pride when we are asked rather than quickly changing the subject, because at the end of the day, it really is only a number.
Remember, honey, looks fade, and tastes change. But like fine wine, who you are only gets better with age.
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