Welcome to Generation Beauty (2024)

But should they do something about it? Allure spoke to dermatologists, psychologists, and pediatricians—many of whom are parents of tweens themselves—to find out. Maybe that’s why you’re here: Your 11-year-old asked for night cream for their birthday. Do you get it for them? Or maybe, like me, you’re merely a concerned citizen who can’t quite wrap their head around when middle schoolers stopped using Caboodles and started using mini skin-care fridges (yep, that’s a thing).

Before we hear from the experts, though, we thought it best to go straight to the source. Because amid thousands of recent headlines about tweens’ obsession with beauty products, we’ve heard very little from the subjects themselves. And who better to tell us about what preteens are using and loving—and why—than the kids themselves? So, over the course of about six weeks—in lockstep with their parents—Allure followed the beauty lives of seven tweens ranging in age from 10 to 13.

Last winter, as reports began to swirl that Sephora’s Drunk Elephant displays were being ransacked by 10-year-olds and an influx of Get Ready With Me videos were being posted by tweens on the bat mitzvah circuit, Allure editors put out a call on social media for parents and caregivers to tell us more about the beauty-loving preteens in their life. We received submissions from across the country, confirming our suspicions that this isn’t just a coastal thing: From sea to shining sea, kids are spritzing themselves with Sol de Janeiro and spending their birthday money on barrier-repair creams.

From there, we selected seven to represent what we’re calling Generation Beauty. (They’re all Gen Alpha, technically.) Through a series of interviews, videos, and photos, they helped us paint a picture of how the modern preteen is interacting with beauty and how they will collectively impact our industry in the future.

Have you ever tried to schedule a Zoom call with a tweenager? It’s not easy. Between soccer games, swim lessons, and band practices, I met with Nicky, a 13-year-old living in Brooklyn; Blake, a 10-year-old from Washington, D.C.; Kionn, an 11-year-old in Santa Fe; London, a 10-year-old from the outskirts of Los Angeles; Olivia, a 12-year-old in the New York tri-state area; and Ginger and Geneva, 11-year-old twin sisters who live not far from Newark, New Jersey.

I am a woman in my early 30s living in New York City. My friends have infants; my youngest cousin is 21. I didn’t know what to say to an 11-year-old. But then, the Zoom screen clicked on and we started speaking a language we both understood: beauty.

“Do you know who Alix Earle is?” asks Nicky, the 13-year-old Brooklynite. I nod my head in affirmation. I am on TikTok, less for play and more for work—it’s a birthplace for beauty trends due in large part to influencers like Earle, who is 23 years old but highly influential among the preteen set. “She made Drunk Elephant blow up. And then Katie Fang started using the D-Bronzi drops, and I wanted to try them,” says Nicky. (Fang, 18, is another influencer whose name came up more than once in my conversations.)

Nicky is referring to the golden-hued, peptide-infused drops that tweens have taken to mixing with Drunk Elephant moisturizers to create a subtle, glowy effect. He went to Sephora to find them and watched as the last bottle was plucked off the shelf—or rather, ferociously grabbed—by another, younger preteen. Eventually, he ordered the $38 drops directly from the brand’s website.

Ginger demonstrates how she uses her Drunk Elephant face oil.

Drunk Elephant has become something of a poster child for the preteen beauty craze. But that was never the intention: An early entrant into the “clean beauty” movement, the brand was founded in 2013 on the premise of efficacious formulas free from “suspicious” ingredients. Those formulas also happen to be packaged in white tubes, bottles, and jars with brightly colored caps in shades of pink, blue, green, and orange. The brand’s name—inspired by the myth that elephants start to feel “drunk” after eating fermented marula fruit, the oil of which is a star ingredient in the line—also created a sense of playfulness and approachability that has made Drunk Elephant appealing to younger people since its inception, founder Tiffany Masterson tells me. (Her four children were tweens and teens when she started the brand and they’ve been using it ever since.) Still, that playfulness and approachability didn’t result in astronomical sales among middle schoolers—that is, until TikTok happened.

During a matter of weeks toward the end of last fall, tweens who weren’t previously familiar with the brand caught wind of it through their favorite influencers and started flocking to its neon colors like moths to a light. “It was an explosion that was faster and bigger than our ability to educate and to talk about it,” says Masterson. And there was education that needed to be done: Some of the brand’s products contain ingredients like retinol, a form of vitamin A that can smooth fine lines, and glycolic acid, which helps resurface skin. As in, they’re not intended—nor appropriate—for tweens.

When interest among preteens reached a fever pitch in December, Drunk Elephant released a statement on its Instagram acknowledging that while, yes, many of its products are suitable for “all skin,” those with retinol and acids are not. “Not every product we have is for every person,” says Masterson. She also wants to be clear: She’s not making the case for tweens to be using a $64 moisturizer, but educating young people who happen to discover the brand about which products won’t be harmful to their skin. “It’s not like we recommend these products [for kids],” says Masterson. “If someone is choosing to [use us], then that’s a different story.”

Other made-for-adult brands that just so happen to have youthful packaging have also become big hits with tweens: Skinfix, Supergoop, and Youth To The People are among them. Glow Recipe, with its pastel color palette and fruit-inspired product ranges, is another. London, the 10-year-old living outside of Los Angeles, keeps her Glow Recipe-laden skin-care collection arranged by color, like a rainbow. When she got a $40 Sephora gift card for her birthday in September, she used it to buy the brand’s Blueberry Bounce Gentle Cleanser ($34). Why does she like it? “It's not heavy at all and it just smells really good.”

One thing that hasn’t changed since the glory days of Bath & Body Works in the 1990s is that for tweens, fragrance is paramount. Sol de Janeiro, a body-care brand founded in 2015, was best known for its Brazilian Bum Bum Cream—until preteens started scooping up the brand’s perfume mists like their millennial parents collected Tamagotchis. London used another birthday gift card to get mist number 40 (it has a real name, but tweens refer to each fragrance by the digits on the front of the bottle), a blend of vanilla and jasmine that costs $24 for a mini version. “It lasts longer than any other perfume I've had,” she says.

I received reports from several of our tweens that the hallways of middle schools across the country smell like a mixture of several Sol de Janeiro scents, which girls keep in their lockers. Among boys, cologne is a “big thing,” says Olivia, the 12-year-old from the New York tri-state area. “They sell samples of cologne to each other.” One boy will invest in a bottle—Dior, Burberry, and Valentino are among the most popular, she says—and decant it into vials that go for about $5 each. Kionn, the 11-year-old, reports that anything Jean Paul Gaultier is a big seller at his school in Santa Fe.

I offer that it sounds like a good business idea, and Olivia agrees. “It is,” she says, “until they start testing them in the halls.” There, notes of musk and sandalwood meet the sweet smells of Sol de Janeiro and…I’m getting a headache just thinking about it. “It’s so gross at this point,” says Nicky of the collective aroma. Personally, he prefers to wear Glossier You ($72) or Tom Ford Ombré Leather ($155). “I want brands that don't really care about gender lines,” he says.

“His passions are very different from most boys’, so I want to encourage him,” adds Nicky’s mom Rachel. Nicky receives a $25 allowance weekly, and if he chooses to siphon off some of it for a new fragrance, that’s his call, she says. Rachel covers the cost of what she calls “indispensable” items that border on hygiene products—like cleanser and sunscreen—though, “Nicky would consider all of his products indispensable,” she says.

Sephora gift cards are a hot commodity—and highly requested around birthdays and holidays—since they allow tweens to shop without the lurking shadow of a credit card-wielding parent. When Olivia gets home from shopping with her friends, she and her mom sit down and review what she purchased. Together, they talk about what the product promises to do, its ingredients, and how Olivia plans to incorporate it into her routine.

But just because a tween is in Sephora without parental supervision doesn’t necessarily mean they’re shopping. Some locations—especially those within walking distance of middle schools—have become post-dismissal destinations. “It's really fun to go there and just hang out with your friends, even if you're not going to get anything,” says Nicky. “I feel like you see more preteens and teens in Sephora these days than grown-ups.”

Before Sephora became the after-school hot spot for tweens, it was Starbucks. Before that, Nicky says, “Everyone used to have babysitters.” Sephora might want to consider employing some of its own: Late last year, reports surfaced that tweens were destroying the Drunk Elephant products on display intended to be used as testers. Instead, preteens were applying lip balm straight out of the tube and creating skin-care “smoothies” by mixing bronzing drops with moisturizer—and not cleaning up afterwards.

The tweens I spoke to would like to set the record straight: Don’t blame them, blame the kids. The 13-year-olds say the 11-year-olds are out of hand. The 10-year-olds point fingers at the 9-year-olds. “I don’t really like the image that the kids put out,” says Olivia. “It's gross the way they treat testers.” To help deflect, Masterson says Drunk Elephant is posting more content on its social channels showing that skin-care “smoothies” can be mixed in the palms of hands instead of on the tops of jars.

Even so, tweens from both coasts tell me they’ve heard that some Sephora stores aren’t allowing anyone under 14 to enter, whether or not they’re accompanied by a parent. In light of that policy, “kids are sending their mothers in to get them Drunk Elephant,” reports Olivia. (A representative for Sephora told Allure its stores do not have such policies; the retailer declined to comment further for this story.)

Among our seven subjects, there was no talk of department stores. There was also very little talk of online shopping. “I get most of my products in person,” says Ginger. For his part, Kionn likes going to Cos Bar, a luxury retailer with a boutique-like feel, specifically to sniff out colognes from brands like Tom Ford. He asks for bottles as holiday gifts and sometimes gets them as a reward for achievements like acing a test. He also enjoys checking out the grooming section at his local T.J.Maxx since the stock is forever changing.

Some tweens shop even closer to home—they borrow from the shelves of their siblings and parents. Ginger and Geneva have been known to wear their mom’s fragrances (like Tom Ford Bitter Peach and Carolina Herrera Good Girl), and treasure a bottle of Givenchy Irresistible that their older sister left behind when she moved out of the house.

London, too, takes cues from her 25-year-old sister Ashley: It was she who taught her how to massage her face with a gua sha tool, which London now keeps in the mini skin-care fridge in her bedroom along with Florence by Mills undereye patches ($36). I ask her if she’s a fan of the brand’s founder, the actor Millie Bobby Brown. “Not really,” says London.

Tweens are not moved by celebrity beauty brands. Hailey Bieber’s name came up, but as a source of makeup inspiration (“she has a very clean and natural look,” says Olivia), not as the founder of Rhode. Tweens do, by all accounts, love Rare Beauty and its founder, Selena Gomez, but don’t seem to connect one to the other. They are also, seemingly, unmoved by influencer-founded brands. I tell Nicky that Refy (the maker of his favorite lip product, ever since his Summer Fridays balm was confiscated) was founded by big-time content creator Jess Hunt. “Really?” he says. “I didn’t know that.” He is, however, very tuned into what influencers are using on themselves.

Nicky and Olivia both follow 18-year-old influencer Katie Fang. “I think her videos are honest and relatable,” says Olivia. Fang gets that a lot. “I’ve found that my audience enjoys listening to the bits and pieces I share [about] how I navigate life as a teenager,” Fang writes to me.

Did she, too, get into beauty as a tween? “I actually never had that much interest in it,” she replies. Fang says she started wearing a tiny bit of makeup in high school but didn’t get into skin care until last year. “Just a few years ago when I was a preteen, it was all about colorful clothing, Barbie dolls, and silly arts and crafts,” she says. “I think it's crazy to see the shift in interest for preteens today—and I do think that social media has played a significant role.”

Through platforms like TikTok, preteens also pick up on things like if a brand is said to test on animals (“I think that's very cruel,” says Nicky) and if a formula is “clean.” “I feel like if you use a lot of unclean beauty, that's not great for you,” Nicky says, “but if you use, say, one or two things, that's fine.” In fact, several of the tweens I spoke to said they preferred “clean” brands (“I think it’s overrated when products use too many chemicals,” says London). They didn’t exactly know how to define what makes a product or ingredient “clean” versus “unclean,” though. (To be fair, neither does the beauty industry at large—the term “clean” remains totally unregulated.)

One thing most tweens do know—despite what TikTok might have you believe—is that retinol is not for them. Products that advertise themselves as being wrinkle-smoothing, dark spot-reducing, or the big kahuna, anti-aging (a word Allure stopped using back in 2017, but brands continue to slap on labels) are of no interest to the preteens we followed this year. Many recent headlines have lamented the disturbing 2024 reality of young children trying to stop the clock with their beauty purchases. Dove even launched a marketing campaign, #TheFaceof10, to “protect girls’ self-esteem from antiaging skin-care pressures,” according to a press release. But these pressures did not bear out in our research.

In fact, the only time the kids I spoke with talked about a problem-and-solution approach was in the treatment of acne. When Olivia started to notice she was getting a few breakouts here and there, social media led her to The Ordinary Salicylic Acid 2% Anhydrous Solution ($7.50), which she mixes into her moisturizer in the evening. After using it for a few weeks, “I noticed that my skin got clearer,” she says.

Not once during any of our many conversations did a tween tell me that they use products to enhance their appearance or to make their skin look firmer or brighter. Nor did they say that they’re looking to prevent aging. “Anti-aging products don’t make you look better,” says Geneva. “It’s weird to look 20 when you’re 50.”

Laurel Naversen Geraghty, a board-certified dermatologist based in Medford, Oregon, says her younger patients aren’t expressing concerns about aging, either—more often, they’re in her chair because they’ve given themselves irritant or allergic contact dermatitis from introducing too many new products too quickly.

All that said, the question is no longer if tweens are using skin care but—if not for the same reasons adults are—why? When I ask our preteens, the answers I get are all variations of “it’s fun” or “it feels nice.”

“When I finish all my homework and I do my skin care and I get in bed, it feels just really good,” says Nicky. And that’s certainly valid.

Nicky says his grooming routine helps him feel his best.

There was another phrase I heard a lot: “Everyone is doing it.” And by “everyone,” they mean their friends, siblings, and parents. And, of course, influencers.“In our research we found that over 70% of 10-year-olds are using social media,” says Jasmine Fardouly, PhD, a researcher at the University of New South Wales in Sydney, who studies how social media impacts young people’s physical and mental health, especially as it relates to body image. “So it's not surprising that they want to emulate the same kind of things that the people they look up to are posting.”

Even if tweens aren’t sharing their own videos on TikTok, they’re highly in tune with what comes across their For You page. (The platform does not allow users under 13 but does offer a limited version of the app, TikTok for Younger Users, with “curated content” for that age group. As of press time, a representative for TikTok had not responded when asked if that content could potentially include beauty-related videos.) “I was looking on YouTube and TikTok and I started seeing a whole bunch of skin care and I asked mom if we could go get some,” says Blake of what prompted her initial interest about a year ago, which was piqued when she got a phone in October—about a month before her 10th birthday.

Our other six subjects are also on social media, though some more than others. Olivia pumped the brakes on TikTok after it became “a big obsession” of hers in 2020. (I can relate—but I was 27 that year, not nine.) “I know kids who scroll and scroll on TikTok and I’m like, ‘I’ve got homework to do,’” she says. She is on Instagram and Pinterest, the latter of which was a surprise to this millennial reporter. I remember using it to make a mood board for my dorm room sometime around 2012.

Pinterest—while not populated by “influencers” per se—is favored among tweens for the way it promotes discovery. It’s where London learned about heatless curls, which can be achieved by wrapping one’s hair around a tool that resembles a fraction of a pool noodle covered in fabric. London immediately asked her mom for permission to use her Amazon account to buy one.

For as long as cosmetics have existed, preteens have been discovering them—but in “more childlike ways” than we’re seeing today, says Phillippa Diedrichs, PhD, a professor of psychology at the Centre for Appearance Research at the University of the West of England Bristol, who studies body image and mental health (and helped inform the messaging for Dove’s #TheFaceof10 campaign). I reflect on my own memories of accessorizing with blue eye shadow while playing dress-up and coating my arms with body glitter for Halloween.

“I think [what’s happening now] is a little bit different because it's very much about having a certain type of product, developing a whole regimen, and being engaged in the process of putting it all on,” Dr. Diedrichs says. It’s possible that such rituals could add more layers of pressure—related to status, conformity, and image—during an already-tumultuous phase of life, she continues. “We see quite a big increase in appearance-based concerns among young people [as they approach] the age of 14,” adds Dr. Fardouly. “It’s a very vulnerable period.”

For that same reason, while similar in some respects, comparing the Gen Alpha obsession with beauty products to my generation’s obsession with Beanie Babies isn’t exactly apples to apples. “I have no doubt that [tweens are] probably finding this really fun and that’s why they’re doing it. My concern is, why skin care?” says Dr. Diedrichs. “There are infinite things that could be fun and give you that sense of playfulness or experimentation [that don’t have anything to do with] the objectification and commercialization of our bodies.”

That’s not to say there aren’t positive side effects, too. “I think it's wonderful to see kids start to think about how they take care of themselves,” says Yolanda Evans, a board-certified pediatrician who serves as chief of the Division of Adolescent Medicine at Seattle Children's Hospital and assistant professor of pediatrics at the University of Washington School of Medicine. As unfamiliar hairs start to sprout and body odor begins to blossom (signs of puberty, which has been starting younger and younger in recent decades, according to research), taking care of oneself may provide a sense of autonomy for preteens, explains Dr. Evans. “It gets young people thinking about what makes them feel good and how they want to present themselves to the world,” she says.

And since tweens are starting to understand the importance of wearing sunscreen every day to prevent melanoma, there can be health benefits, too. “[I wear it] even when it's not sunny,” says Kionn, who likes the way Black Girl Sunscreen SPF 30 ($19) blends into his skin tone. “If we [as parents] can say, ‘Hey, I'll get you this Sunday Riley product that you really want, but I also want you to use this SPF cream that’s really great,’” says Dr. Naversen Geraghty. “Maybe that's a nice point of negotiation to encourage kids to take the most important step of their skin-care routine.”

Dr. Naversen Geraghty’s own kids—ages 13 and 15—have been wearing sunscreen since birth. “They’re very much into taking care of their skin,” she says. But they’re not “into” skin care in the sense that they use what some might consider “basic” drugstore cleanser, moisturizer, and SPF—just like their dermatologist mom. Rather than Drunk Elephant or Glow Recipe, her daughter asked for a “medium-size tub of Aquaphor” as a birthday gift this year.

Keeping the lines of communication open between tween and caregiver (whether or not that caregiver is a dermatologist) is of utmost importance, especially when it comes to the social media of it all. While watching a Get Ready With Me video may not be intrinsically problematic, watching 10 in a row is a different story. And even just one beauty-related video can be a domino in a cascade of content that, when consumed en masse by easily impressionable preteens, can reinforce unrealistic ideals.

“The main aim of the algorithms is to keep people's engagement and attention on the platform,” says Dr. Fardouly. “So if they think that this person is interested in [beauty] content, then they're going to feed them more and more and more of that content and then their environment can very quickly become skewed—and that's what really concerns me.”

But young people are, of course, people—and can have infinitely different responses to the same situation. “There may be groups who engage with this content and it really doesn't have any long-term consequences,” says Dr. Fardouly. But for others, being bombarded with a steady stream of beauty content could pave a dangerous path toward appearance-related anxiety in the years to come.

Dr. Fardouly says that her research has revealed that skin and hair-related insecurities are perhaps even more closely tied to social media than weight and body-related ones since we see more faces than head-to-toe bodies online. Also see beauty filters, which can blur complexions and contort facial features. Even if tweens aren’t using filters on photos of themselves, the influencers they follow almost certainly are.

At this point, you might be tempted to throw your child’s phone into the nearest body of water. And I’m not going to stop you—studies have consistently linked smartphones and social media to depression, anxiety, and loneliness in young people. But word travels fast in the tween community, so just know your preteen will probably find out how to create a skin-care “smoothie” anyway. Dr. Evans’s oldest daughter, who is 11, doesn’t have a phone or access to Instagram or TikTok, but she got curious about skin care last year. More recently, she started experimenting with makeup. “I think it's probably a combination of peer influence and media influence,” says Dr. Evans. (Her daughter does watch YouTube and television, she says.)

What’s a parent to do if their tween starts consuming contouring tutorials? First of all, take a deep breath. “I certainly try not to be too judgmental of parents, especially because young people are always attracted to platforms that their parents aren't on,” says Dr. Fardouly. “So often the parents aren't really familiar with the intricacies of that new platform, which makes it really hard.”

Hard, but not impossible. Make the effort to join the platform, then have an open conversation: Ask your kids who they follow (and follow them yourself so you see what your child is seeing), what intrigues them about their content, and address any concerns you might have (like, if a teen influencer is singing the praises of retinol). “As parents and caregivers, when we are open to hearing what our tweens’ ideas are, they listen when we offer advice or feedback, too,” says Dr. Evans.

And do your best to practice what you preach: “We find that modeling positive attitudes and behaviors is potentially the most powerful thing that parents can do for their children,” says Dr. Fardouly. So be mindful of how often you’re on your phone around your kids, and speak positively about appearance in your household. Because if previous generations have not-so-fond memories of their mothers loudly counting calories (and the body image-related issues to show for it), Gen Alpha is poised to recall talk of Botox and miracle creams. Experts aren’t saying you should hide your own multistep routine from your children, but be open to discussing what you’re doing and why you do it—and maybe curb the commentary about your jowls and why you need that new firming serum.

Because here is the cold, hard truth: None of us—whether 9 or 99—actually need beauty products. (Yes, you’re still reading Allure.) But boy, do we want them. They make us feel good, even special. Beauty rituals give us comfort and a feeling of stability—and heck, something other than the news to talk about with our friends. And is that the worst thing in the world? Probably not.

“To me, there are worse vices for kids to have,” says Dr. Naversen Geraghty. (Did I mention that before she was a dermatologist, she was an Allure editor?) “As long as the product doesn't cause them irritation and they want to use it, then fine. It's not about skin care anymore. It's a hobby. It's a pastime. It's an obsession. And sometimes it's a flex, right?” As my editor’s 40-something friend said to her recently: “I was smoking cigarettes in the school bathroom when I was 12. If my 12-year-old daughter just wants a hyaluronic acid serum to fit in, great.”

Nicky, the 13-year-old, was the first tween I interviewed, and weeks later, also the last. As we sign off, I ask him if he’s got any fun plans for the weekend. “I’m going to a 13th birthday party tomorrow, and I have no clue what to get them,” he sighs. “I’ve got to go to Sephora.”