If you have, you’ve encountered the viral Sephora Kid. Noun. Definition: a term used to describe children influenced by social media to buy and use skincare designed for adults. Example: “Ah! I must get that Drunk Elephant retinol cream before a Sephora Kid does!”
Sephora Kids have become a huge phenomenon amongst Gen Alpha. Young children are posting videos of themselves guiding you through a ‘get ready with me’, facing the camera applying expensive skincare that they don’t need, with parents sharing their children’s Christmas wish lists decked with hyaluronic acids and Sol de Janeiro body creams. Since the coining of the term in the last year, e.l.f cosmetics has had a 203% increase in stock prices.
People, specifically millennials, are generally disgusted.
But, aside from the kids being rude to staff members and destroying shop displays, Sephora Kids are not necessarily products of bad parenting or a sign that the next generation is doomed.
As a Gen Z, whenever my mum left the house when I was a child, I used to sneak into her bedroom like a secret spy- I’d rummage through her wardrobe and tottle around in her high heels, beaming at the sound of the clicks against the wooden floor, and I’d clumsily paint my lips in her bright-pink lipsticks. At age 12, I would beg her to let me start wearing makeup like the other girls at school. I wanted to feel grown-up.
These kinds of experiences are folklore; anyone who was labelled a ‘girly girl’ in their childhood will know exactly what I’m talking about. As a Gen Z, I now know exactly where this stemmed from: I was a regular worshipper of the YouTube ‘beauty guru’ community, and makeup collection videos and novelty tutorials were my scriptures. I was a byproduct of consumption.
The 2010-2017 YouTube era was defined by the excessive overbuying of makeup, the makeup tutorials characterised by ‘baking’ the face in powder and heavily contouring. Now, as the ‘glass skin’ and ‘clean girl' aesthetics have redefined the beauty industry, tween culture has grown alongside these trends, as it has since day dot. I was enticed by the bright colours of my mum’s eyeshadows and lipsticks, and now, tweens are the same towards the juice box-like packaging and the ‘play’ aspects of the products advertised everywhere, such as the Bubble moisturisers and their flower-shaped dispenser.
With the exception of Kiehl’s and their viral ‘Kids should stay kids’ campaign, skincare companies have taken advantage of the boom in sales. Companies cannot profit from letting kids be kids, and so skincare products being advertised like ingredients for a recipe are attracting kids who crave interactivity and play, feeding the ongoing global ‘epidemic’.
I do not say this to justify the phenomenon, but to offer some perspective. The kids are not the ones at fault necessarily: parents must be proactive with their children buying these products, and companies must be proactive with their product suitability and advertising. Children using such harsh, ‘anti-ageing’ chemicals designed for mature skin will ruin their skin barriers, exposing them to even more UV damage, dryness, and microdermabrasion - and no matter the content or platform, social media consumption amongst young people should be strictly monitored.
The obsession with skincare is dangerous, and the increase in youth-targeting products is irresponsible, given that the entire industry’s ethos is rooted in a fear of ageing and misogynistic beauty ideals that are being instilled in girls as young as 8 – the same danger that came with tweens excessively buying expensive makeup 10 years ago.
However, it’s what tween culture looks like currently, and soon, the next thing will come along. Kids naturally gravitate towards the things that make them feel grown-up, as much as we hate to see this, and this has been the case for a long time. Gen Alpha experimenting with products are not doomed, they are reflections of the generations before them.