For decades, learning make up meant learning from a person. I remember when the best way to understand a technique was simply to stand beside an artist and watch. You observed how they held a brush, changed their approach from one face to another and, most importantly, why they made those choices.
For decades, learning make up meant learning from a person. I remember when the best way to understand a technique was simply to stand beside an artist and watch. You observed how they held a brush, changed their approach from one face to another and, most importantly, why they made those choices.
Today, a teenager with a smartphone can access thousands of tutorials before purchasing their first foundation. That shift is extraordinary and, in many ways, empowering. One can now learn from artists and experts across the world, discovering different ways of accentuating features and exploring products suited to varied skin tones, types and preferences.
Today, a teenager with a smartphone can access thousands of tutorials before purchasing their first foundation. That shift is extraordinary and, in many ways, empowering. One can now learn from artists and experts across the world, discovering different ways of accentuating features and exploring products suited to varied skin tones, types and preferences.
Having worked as a make-up artist for over 25 years, I have witnessed this transformation from both sides. When I started, beauty education was built around observation and experience. You learnt by watching artists work on clients, models and actors, often in parlours or on sets rather than in a classroom. You could see how a technique changed depending on the person sitting in front of you. Today, those techniques are available at the tap of a screen. YouTube offers beginner guides and detailed tutorials, while Instagram is filled with quick tips and new ways to use even a minimal make-up kit. This accessibility has made consumers more informed about undertones, textures, skin preparation, ingredients and application. It has also given a platform to creators with different skin tones, face shapes, ages and beauty philosophies.
The other side
But there is another side to this transformation. Every time a new beauty trend takes over our feeds, I am reminded that we are increasingly moving from learning about make up to simply consuming make-up content. The algorithm rewards what captures attention.
A complicated contouring hack, unusual application technique or dramatic transformation is more likely to stop someone from scrolling than a simple lesson on choosing the right foundation or preparing the skin. As a result, beauty can sometimes become a performance of techniques rather than an understanding of them. The biggest concern is the growing belief that there is one correct way to do make up. There isn’t. A technique that works beautifully on one face may be unnecessary on another. Skin type, age, texture, climate, facial structure and personal preference matter the most. Make up is not mathematics; there is no single formula for every face or skin type.
The algorithm has also accelerated beauty consumption. Every trend can become a product recommendation, making it difficult to distinguish between a genuine need and the urgency created by constant consumption. I have always believed that a well-understood make-up kit is more valuable than an overflowing vanity. More products do not necessarily mean better make up; knowing how to use a few well-chosen ones effectively will always take you further. There is also the question of unrealistic expectations. Filters, lighting and editing can blur the line between inspiration and reality. Skin has texture, and faces have asymmetry. Make up sits differently on real skin than it does under studio lighting or filters. When people compare their unfiltered faces with highly edited images, the problem is not their skin; it is the benchmark they are being asked to meet.
This is where professional expertise still has an important role to play. The purpose of a make-up artist or educator should not simply be to teach someone how to recreate a viral look, but to help them understand their own face, skin and preferences and adapt a technique accordingly.
As educators, creators and brands, we also have a responsibility to teach people how to question what they see. Why does a technique work? Who is it suited for? Is it necessary? And, most importantly, does it work for you? The future of beauty education should not be about choosing between the make-up artist and the algorithm, but using technology to make expertise more accessible while retaining the human judgement behind it. Social media has democratised beauty knowledge, but expertise gives it context.
Ultimately, the best beauty lesson is not one that tells you what to do, but one that helps you understand why.
Namrata Soni is a celebrity make-up artist and founder of Simply Nam.
