Beauty, reframed: revisiting my 2018 essay in the age of AI

In 2018, while working as a Copywriter at Lush Cosmetics, I wrote an essay asking, “What is beauty in the age of Instagram?” I explored how Barbie dolls had been swapped for Instagram scrolls, how dopamine-fuelled likes shaped our self-worth, and how social media both mirrored and magnified our insecurities. I ended the piece on a hopeful note, celebrating body positivity accounts and the slow shift toward more inclusive representations.

Seven years later, I find myself returning to those words with a mix of pride, frustration, and a renewed sense of urgency. Because while some things have changed, many of the pressures I wrote about have only intensified. And women, in particular, are navigating a digital landscape that’s more complex, curated and contradictory than ever.

The beauty carousel spins faster

In 2018, Instagram had 800 million users. Today, it’s got over 2 billion. TikTok’s also entered the chat, and with it, a new wave of beauty trends that rise and fall in days. From “clean girl” to “mob wife,” aesthetic ideals are now algorithmically generated and globally disseminated at a dizzying speed.

And while we once worried about Photoshop, we now have to contend with AI-generated faces and hyper-realistic filters. A 2025 study found that 90% of young women use filters before posting selfies, and that filtered images of ourselves are more psychologically damaging than edited photos of others. This is digital dysmorphia, and it’s reshaping how we see ourselves.

AI and the architecture of beauty

Artificial Intelligence is no longer just a tool, it’s a tastemaker. Today:

• AI filters reshape faces in real time, slimming noses, enlarging eyes, smoothing skin and lifting cheekbones.
• Virtual influencers like Lil Miquela and Imma are brand ambassadors, blurring the line between reality and digital perfection.
• Beauty ideals are increasingly homogenised, often reinforcing Eurocentric, ageist and ableist standards.
• Social self-comparison – comparing oneself to an enhanced version of oneself – is linked to increased body dysmorphia and desire for cosmetic surgery.

The constant exposure to idealised, filtered versions of ourselves and others increases anxiety and depression, particularly among teens and young adults. As one reporter put it, “For many, the perfect face is no longer born; it is built – designed by AI, refined by surgery, and approved by algorithms.”

The metrics of worth

Back then, I wrote about the dopamine hit of likes. Today, we know more about the toll of being constantly measured, and yet, engagement metrics still shape how women perceive their value. Nearly two in five Brits say failing to meet beauty ideals affects their mental health, and nine in ten want to change their appearance because of social media pressure.

Women over 40 face increasing pressure to “age well”. Marginalised people, especially Black, disabled and trans women, still face underrepresentation and hyper-visibility in harmful ways. And even the language of empowerment – “glow up,” “self-care,” “hot girl walk” – can feel like a performance. We’re told to love ourselves, but only if we’re glowing, thriving and camera-ready.

What’s grown stronger

There is a bit of progress though. The body positivity movement has evolved into body neutrality, fat liberation and skin acceptance. Creators continue to challenge narrow ideals. Brands are slowly embracing diversity, not just in size and skin tone, but in age, ability and gender expression. We’re also seeing more critical conversations about beauty privilege, ageism and the mental health impact of online culture. The question is no longer just “What is beauty?” but “Who profits from our insecurity?” But is it enough?

Then vs now: my voice, evolved

In 2018, I was asking questions. Today, I’m still asking, but with more clarity, more context, and a deeper commitment to advocacy. I now write at the intersection of mental health, media and representation. I know that beauty standards don’t exist in a vacuum; they’re shaped by systems, sold by industries and sustained by silence.

So I’m revisiting this piece to reflect, but also to reframe. Beauty is not a destination, a filter or a trend. It’s a construct we can choose to dismantle. And in doing so, we make space for something more radical: acceptance, authenticity and agency.

The terrain’s still steep. But every time we challenge a narrow ideal, every time we post without a filter, every time we affirm someone’s worth beyond their appearance, we’re reshaping the lens. So, is beauty in the eye of the beholder? Perhaps. But maybe the better question is: what would happen if we stopped simply looking, and started actually seeing each other?