March 16th 2010

Jessica Simpson, Beauty, and the Case of the $25,000 Makeup Budget

They were the "mom jeans" seen round the world. In 2009, Jessica Simpson sang at a chili cook off in Florida and pictures of her wearing high-waisted jeans and a black tank top sent bloggers and gossip columnists aflutter. Simpson recalls the time as a low point in her career, but she took an incident that critiqued and criticized her weight and leveraged it into a new project that asks the question, “What defines beauty?” Simpson’s new VH1 reality show, The Price of Beauty, has her traveling around the world exploring different cultures' ideas of beauty and seeing how far people will go to meet those standards.

In the premier episode, Simpson and best friends CaCee Cobb and Ken Paves examine what makes women alluring in Thailand. Their journey uncovers a cultural yearning for whiter skin, the Buddhist notion that beauty is from within, the idea that eating insects can speed metabolism rates, and the Karen tradition of elongating necks with brass rings as a sign of female beauty and status.

Simpson's appeal is very specific in this show, as it was on her MTV hit, Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica - her vulnerability is palpable. The thing about Jessica Simpson is that she can be so Jessica Simpson sometimes. Her openness and her ability to say exactly what is on her mind are endearing, but also get her in hot water by producing drool-worthy sound bites the media go nuts over. (Recently she revealed in an interview with I Heart Radio that she does not brush her teeth, but instead uses Listerine. Or sometimes her sweater. How is that not going to be the promotional sound bite?)

There is part of her experience that is relatable. She is sort of stumbling through life and through love, much like many women of our generation. How many of us have shown up at an event and been the subject of discussion because of something we wore? How many of us have had ex-boyfriends go all John-Mayer and reveal an intimate secret while the phrase “justifiable homicide” flashed through our brains? Except Simpson's exploits are played out on a larger stage and are fodder for tabloids.

But here is where the relatable part ends. It has been widely reported that VH1 has shelled out $25,000 per episode for hair and makeup. So, apparently the price of beauty is about $25K. The U.S. recession has pushed many hard-working families to make incredibly tough financial decisions just to cover basic needs. In a time when many people are still frantically looking for work, $25,000 seems more than excessive – it is an annual salary. It also undermines the legitimacy of the venture and takes it out of the realm of a true exploration and into the realm of vanity project.

After watching the first episode, my friend JoAnna turned to me and said, “The thing about this show is that it is still about the ideal beauty. An international ideal, but still ideal.” Simpson’s show skirts around the assumption that the audience will turn to look at beauty within our own culture and reexamine it. That we might say, “That custom seems like such an peculiar measure for beauty. Maybe our need for Botox, tanning beds, whiter teeth, a miracle diet, and breast implants is an odd way to gauge what is attractive.” But the show comes across as a romp, not an investigation. It’s premise is interesting, but it gets in the way of itself, becoming a product that is just on the surface even though the premise is trying to reach something deeper.

Unveiling beauty regimens and treatments from the far corners of the world can put a mirror up to our means of determining beauty. There's no doubt that Simpson is starting the conversation and asking an important question, but is it authentic? Will it inspire change in her? In us, as viewers? How do we, on an individual level, start altering how we see ourselves when it comes to beauty and what is sexy?