Los Angeles — a city synonymous with Hollywood and the influencer lifestyle — has had a significant influence on beauty worldwide. The “turning myself into an L.A. 10” trend on TikTok recently gained popularity as the latest example, with creators demonstrating makeup styles that mirror the city’s aesthetic. 

At first glance, this trend, among other creative beauty content, is very playful and empowering. However, upon seeing these videos, I began to delve into how much investment is required to achieve such a look. Being an “L.A. 10” requires more than makeup knowledge; instead, beauty is poised as an investment, incorporating surgical procedures, high-end skincare and expensive fitness memberships. 

Equinox memberships, Ozempic injections and nose jobs — among other cosmetic investments — foster intense pressure for women to conform to these beauty trends to find acceptance. 

In a city that is a cultural melting pot — with individuals from over 140 cultures — the beauty industry should, hypothetically, reflect this diverse cultural makeup. USC itself is known for hosting over 12,000 international students, and yet, the beauty standards remain eurocentric. 

This commercialization would not be so daunting if the standards were diverse. Having such eurocentric beauty standards marginalizes ethnic features by centering fair skin, straight hair and narrow noses as default measures of attractiveness. 

This erasure is structural. Within the industry, the commodification of beauty emphasizes the promotion of sameness; in turn,, complying with social expectations reiterates uniformity within beauty, directly influencing industry profit. A look can be marketed on social media, creating demand for products and services required to achieve the look. 

For example, some beauty brands in Asia, such as Mosbeau, Glow & Lovely and Seoul Secret, market skin-whitening creams using advertising that equates lighter, more European-looking skin with beauty and confidence. Thus, such products that promote skin uniformity are causing an increased demand, as individuals seek services to fit these dominant standards.  

Furthermore, cosmetic procedures are being framed as investments, with social media frequently highlighting how we can “fix” any insecurities with surgeries. Platforms like TikTok and Instagram often promote Botox, lip fillers or buccal fat removal as routine upgrades, normalizing surgery as just another step in personal maintenance rather than a serious medical decision.

What makes being an “L.A. 10” unfeasible is its instability. Trends constantly shift and are dictated by a mix of popular culture and beauty idealization. Once a look is normalized, trends move on, ensuring that nobody “wins.” Around a decade ago, Brazilian butt lifts surged in popularity, thanks to celebrities like Kim Kardashian; now, people are looking for BBL reduction procedures. The standard is always shifting and always for sale. 

In consumerist societies, attractiveness becomes a form of capital and individuals internalize the gaze. A 2018 study by Qinqing Sun in Frontiers in Psychology describes this phenomenon as the “capitalization of sexual attractiveness,” where women convert beauty into economic and cultural capital. 

Transforming into an “L.A. 10” reflects capitalist materialism, monetizing beauty through surgery and fitness. This approach to beauty is unbelievably consumerist and can hold a psychological toll. 

For instance, Dr. Charles Sophy, a psychiatrist based in L.A., told the student newspaper at the Archer School for Girls that Los Angeles is “a tough place,” and that “you have to be a really confident person; otherwise, you’re going to get hurt.” 

The beauty industry remains a prominent component of the United States’ economy. Southern Californians spend over $20 billion annually on beauty and apparel, as found by 2018 research fromby CBRE Group, Inc. 

The constant necessity for reinvention affects us as USC students, poised in the center of such a capitalistic industry. In L.A., the impossible is the everyday expectation, where perfection is treated not as an aspiration, but a baseline, leaving students to chase trends that are both financially draining and psychologically unattainable.

For students who are already struggling with mental health and the intensive pressure of USC’s fast-paced career environment, the financial weight of beauty can deepen inequalities. When beauty is equated to belonging, there is a hidden tax on self-esteem that not every student can afford. This cycle deepens income disparities and fosters a culture against being authentic. 

With this consistent generation of economic output, there is no changing the beauty industry. However, we can choose how to incorporate diversity and individual uniqueness as we continue exploring beauty expression. If beauty is currently focused on sameness, then at USC, with our diversity, we can model distinctive differences. 

As students, utilize makeup to elevate your unique features rather than fitting into trends. Surgical procedures are not a necessity: Never feel compelled by societal pressure to change yourself. Lean into what makes you distinctive — your features, your style and your story — and ponder whether the desire to change comes from within or from trends of normalized consumerism. 

Diversity is a key value of our school, and we must remember its relevance as we continue to express and create. Yet, when beauty is commodified, this principle is erased, and instead, individuality transitions into marketable homogeneity. Instead of chasing the impractical illusion of an “L.A. 10,” let’s set a new standard: one that celebrates difference and diversity.