By Mia Hanuska
Over the summer, the “heavily recommended” summer homework for AP English Language and Composition was to read The Catcher in the Rye. In the novel by J.D. Salinger, the teenage protagonist, Holden Caulfield, shares a room with a boy named Ackley, an awkward outcast with poor social skills. When discussing the book later in class, Chris Haskett pointed out that the name Ackley sounds like acne, and connects Ackley’s pimpled appearance to his annoying behavior (which is a defense response due to the other students excluding him). Ackley is a character made for readers to dislike—so of course he must have acne. Acne has become associated with the stereotype for “nerdiness,” and, consequently, “ugliness.” But why is acne so scrutinized?
The media has pushed this concept of acne equating to “nerdiness” and therefore “bad” to children for years. For example, Neil Goldman, a character in Family Guy, is considered the pimpled school nerd—and also “creepy [and] stalkerish.” A character from A Goofy Movie, nameless but referred to as “Nerdy Kid” fits the stereotypical definition of a nerd and steals two girls’ textbooks while mocking them. Countless episodes of children’s TV, even Spongebob, contain the protagonists suddenly developing acne and spending the rest of the episode trying to get rid of it. These nerdy characters ingrain the idea that acne is “ugly”—or at least should be removed—into the minds of the young children watching.
Moreover, as children grow and switch from movies and TV shows to TikToks and YouTube videos, the stigmatization morphs from characters they watch into skincare regimens they should follow to avoid acne. They begin seeing advertisements of models with blemish-free skin encouraging products that can be harmful to a child’s still-developing face. Retinol, a common acid included in countless skincare routines seen on social media, boasts anti-aging and anti-acne properties. However, the ingredient can be incredibly harmful when used improperly and on adolescent skin; skin with retinol treatments sunburn easier, and thus young, uneducated users enjoy spending time outside can experience adverse effects. Plus, kids and tweens can be seen uploading their skincare routines to Instagram and using the platform to find skincare “advice,” which, often presented as fact, typically strays from dermatologist recommendations. It makes sense that tweens are so desperate to find ways to avoid acne—they’ve only ever been told to be ashamed of it—that they resort to social media, but ultimately following incorrect advice simply leads to unnecessary lifestyle changes.
Not only does social media provide options to remove acne, it also creates the motivation to. The media essentially decides what “beautiful” looks like—from body shape and hair color, to, of course, facial characteristics. Magazines, books, and movies all depict objectively “beautiful” people, influenced by the beauty standards at the time. In today’s society, symmetry plays a large role in deciding attractiveness, and acne disrupts the perfect mirroring of the face. Thus, casting directors, writers, and designers purposefully choose to not portray acne as positive in their media due to the belief that it’s “ugly.” Additionally, from an advertiser’s perspective, attractive ads lead to greater engagement. Consumers want to purchase products that will improve their appearance, and seeing a smooth-faced model demonstrate a skincare product creates a subconscious parallel between the product and the ideal standard of beauty; customers believe that the product will help them attain clear skin and, in turn, make them “attractive.”
Similarly, social media creates trends for beauty to follow, and most recently, the “glass skin” trend. “Glass skin,” a Korean beauty standard, pushes for skin so smooth and shiny, devoid of all bumps, imperfections, and texture, that it reflects light, just like glass. However, “glass skin” is inherently unachievable and unadvisable. Removing all pores, hairs, and scars is impossible; pores allow the skin to release sweat and natural oils, small hairs help regulate body temperature, and scars reflect personality. Plus, skin without any texture has “lost its essential skin-ness, its humanness, its health.” The trend fundamentally promotes the concept that textual differences due to acne should be removed; they’re all “imperfections” that disrupt the flawless “glass” effect.
Finally, society treats individuals with acne worse. Harmful beliefs about the condition, like thinking people with it are unclean, unintelligent, and untrustworthy, result in challenges getting hired, more difficulties in relationships, and insecurities among those suffering with acne. People with acne often internalize the stereotypes pushed about the skin disease, and have two to three times the suicidal ideation compared to those without it and experience overwhelming appearance anxiety and depression (Figure 1). Impacted mental health then creates a cycle where harmful coping methods lead to lessened faith in proper treatments, which further worsens acne. Furthermore, those with acne face taunting, teasing, and bullying, further exacerbating negative feelings connected to acne.
Figure 1.
Ultimately, despite the media driving the belief that acne is shameful, acne does not make someone “ugly.” From a young age, we are taught through books and shows that we need to try to remove all pimples and zits from our faces in order to be “beautiful.” The belief is further pushed as we grow, swapping from standard media to social media with advertisements, popularized skincare, and beauty trends and standards. Then, for the rest of their lives, people with acne are discriminated against simply because of an inevitable skin condition that affects almost everyone during puberty. Acne is not ugly, it’s not something that needs to be hidden; it’s natural. Your acne doesn’t make you ugly: society does.