opinion & features

Our love-hate relationship with the beauty industry

Alana Lajoie-0'malleyA few weeks ago, I found myself in a bathroom with two women getting decked out for a party – eyelining, lipsticking, accessorizing, moisturizing.  We shared a moment of ironic appreciation for the scene. We had each gone through various cycles of refusal to groom, decorate and adorn our bodies with the tools and products of an industry that continues to encourage us to feel insecure about our beauty.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could trust that the products available on store shelves were proven safe?

That day, we all agreed – the beauty industry is a pain in the ass, but it is a helluva lot of fun to relate to our bodies as living, breathing pieces of sacred art.  Sometimes that means a bit of paint. And yet – carcinogens, pesticides, reproductive toxics, endocrine disruptors, plasticizers, degreasers and surfactants – a few choice words to describe some 10,500 industrial chemicals used in most common shampoos, lotions, makeup and other personal care products.  Yummy.  Way to honour the sacred.

In most cases, the concentrations of the toxic substances found in the products we slather on our bodies are low.  This is the argument made by those (like the American Council on Science and Health) who call concerns about these ingredients alarmist. They also question the science behind the concerns, such as preliminary studies linking pthalates (commonly used in nail polishes and as a fragrance in other personal care products) to low sperm counts and testosterone levels in adult males and to genital abnormalities in male babies. Some have called this phenomenon the ‘feminization’ of boys.  I somehow don’t think that this is quite the kind of hormone therapy we’re looking for.

At the core of the issue is a tension that cuts across all kinds of debates about environment and health.  On one side is the precautionary principle, which would place the burden of proof that an action or policy is not harmful on those taking the action (in this case on cosmetic companies).  On the other side is the notion that the burden of proof falls on those who wish to demonstrate that the action or policy is harmful. According to the David Suzuki Foundation, Health Canada seems to favour the latter approach.  Most ingredients in cosmetics have never been tested for their effects on human health and the environment, and Health Canada does not require pre-market testing of chemicals used in cosmetics.

the skin deep cosmetic safety database www.cosmetics database.com, rates the potential risks of a baffling array of personal care products on a scale of 1 to 10

The commonly stated drawback to the precautionary approach is that it is difficult to establish the criteria for what positively establishes that something is not harmful.  Precaution is just plain a lot of work. Luckily, for those who are concerned by these preliminary studies, there are resources.  One of my favourites is the Skin Deep Cosmetic Safety Database (www.cosmeticsdatabase.com), which rates the potential risks of a baffling array of personal care products on a scale of one to 10  The GoodGuide (www.goodguide.com) performs a similar service for personal care products, food, household chemicals, toys, and paper products.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could trust that the products available on store shelves were proven safe?  It sure would.  That’s why organizations like the David Suzuki Foundation are recommending a range of measures to close some of the safety loopholes in Canada’s cosmetics laws.  In the meantime, I’m going to do what current regulations don’t – by grooming, decorating and adorning this piece of living, breathing sacred art with precaution. Because, as those damn ads keep telling me, “I’m worth it”.

– Alana Lajoie-O’Malley is the director of the Campus Sustainability Office at The University of Winnipeg. To comment on this or any other article in Outwords, write to letters@outwords.ca