"I'm 29, and I have never felt more pressure to optimise my appearance than I do right now."
This is what Milly Rose Bannister, founder and CEO of ALLKND, shared to her Instagram last week. Milly had gone for a standard consult with her dermatologist to discuss some mild skin concerns ahead of her wedding later this year. What happened next was what shocked Milly most.
Post-appointment, Milly was provided a plan to ‘optimise’ her face ahead of her wedding to the value of $10,500, and was expected to pay half of this on the day.
“I left feeling nauseous and ashamed for not being able to commit/afford the recommendations. What got me was the assumption... that I’d want to fix myself as much as possible.”
In Australia, the cosmetic procedure industry is booming. Currently, millennials drive more than half of all cosmetic consultations in Australia, and 59% of that cohort say they're considering a procedure within the next decade. And, it’s not hard to see why this trend is happening. The Butterfly Foundation found that 63% of Australians compare themselves to what they see online, and 38% say social media has a negative effect on their body image overall - Gen Z are most likely to change eating or fitness habits because of it (26%).
To be critical, it’s an industry built on optimising the parts of yourself you don’t like, which is fuelled by the the unrealistic standards shared online. To unpack this further, we followed up with Milly on how she’s been feeling since this appointment, and the insurmountable pressure we can experience to make ourselves ‘look’ a certain way.
How have you noticed the pressure to optimise increase over the last 6-12 months? Has this pressure extended further than appearance?
Milly: Oh yes. In the last year in particular, it feels like we’ve been thrown into a terrifying cultural shift, where every part of being a person has become something to optimise, maximise or upgrade. Our skin. Our sleep. Our gut. Our hormones. Our friendships. Our productivity. Even our hobbies are side hustles!
I don’t think that’s inherently bad. I love a habit tracker and I track my sleep. I’m endlessly curious about my body. But somewhere along the way, the algorithm angled our focus away from feeling better to feeling like we’re never quite enough.
I think a lot of women are exhausted because the finish line keeps moving. Now that so many “upgrades” are available to us, it feels like there will always be another treatment, another version of ‘you’ waiting to be unlocked.
As Laura recently pointed out on the KICPod, 3 in 5 women aged 18 to 25 surveyed by KIC said they had felt increased pressure to change their bodies in the previous 12 months, which they attributed to what they were seeing on social media.
What’s your view on how we ‘market’ these optimisation treatments to women? At what point is the industry creating insecurities?
Milly: One thing I’ve noticed in myself recently (via consultation with a dermatologist), is that you can’t become insecure about something you’ve never noticed.
And because there’s now a solution for almost every perceived imperfection, we’re also being sold entirely new categories of treatments, products and procedures to fix them.
Of course, some treatments really help people feel more confident, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with choosing them. The issue for me is when the marketing creates the problem before it sells the solution.
If you convince someone that normal ageing is actually a preventable mistake instead of something to embrace and celebrate, you’ve fundamentally changed how they see themselves.
I don’t think we talk enough about that, and I worry about what it’s costing us.
A lot of us can relate to being critical of the industry, but also available to it. How can we tell the difference between what’s genuinely helpful and what’s creating insecurities from scratch?
Milly: I think most of us live in that contradiction. I walked out of my dermatologist appointment feeling uncomfortable with the recommendations and, for the first time, seeing multiple new perceived ‘flaws’. But I also found myself Googling the treatments with before and after photos on the train home. As Steph and Laura often say, two things can be true.
The question I keep coming back to is: Would I have wanted this before somebody told me I needed it?
If the answer is yes, maybe it’s solving a genuine concern you’ve had for years. If the answer is no, maybe somebody has just handed you a brand new insecurity.
I think that’s worth sitting with for a while, and maybe chatting it through with a few close friends or loved ones before making any decision. (It’s surprisingly grounding to have people you trust laugh when you tell them you’re now deeply concerned about the shadows around your jaw or that someone suggested filler for your “flat cheeks”).
As someone who’s a bride-to-be, do you feel as though optimisation pressure has gone beyond “wed shred”?
Milly: Completely. What’s been interesting though, is that almost none of it has come from people in my real life. It’s mostly come from algorithms and advertising (I wrote about that here).
There’s nothing “normal” about a $1.5 million wedding in the south of France, three dresses, and a reception featured in Vogue. But after seeing enough of it online, your brain starts treating it as the baseline.
And it’s made me realise how much our expectations are now being shaped by what we’re repeatedly shown, rather than what we genuinely want. Just like your face, you’re being shown, daily, what your wedding could look like if you had more money, more time, more taste, more chill, better lighting... oh and maybe a drone?!
Lastly, what’s your advice to someone who may have walked out of a similar appointment? How can they show themselves kindness?
Milly: Firstly, know that your reaction is incredibly understandable. I walked out feeling embarrassed that I couldn’t commit to the treatment plan, but also embarrassed that I’d suddenly started seeing problems I’d never noticed before. It was such a strange mix of emotions.
One thing that’s helped me is remembering that a consultation isn’t a diagnosis of your worth or your beauty. It’s a consultation and it’s subjective. Their whole job is to optimise you. So you’re allowed to go home. You’re allowed to think about it. You’re allowed to set it down and decide it’s not for you, or that maybe it’s something you might revisit later.
And I think it’s worth asking yourself: If nobody else ever saw this part of me, would I still want to change it? Sometimes the answer is yes. But sometimes you realise you’ve been seeing yourself through the eyes of a billion dollar industry that benefits when you feel unfinished.
This interview was initially published in ISSUE 24 of The Ritual, you can subscribe here to read every week for free at Thursday 8am.
