I’ve been doing makeup since the unripe age of eleven. Growing up in a very small town in Maryland, Ulta and Sephora didn’t exist in my world; CVS and Rite Aid did. It was already difficult for me to have access to decent makeup let alone makeup shades that matched my deep complexion. My shopping cart was limited to brightening concealer, eyebrow pomade, and mascara. That’s it. My 3-step makeup routine was shaping my eyebrows and brightening my under eyes with the rest of my face unfinished. Don’t even get me started on blush or contour—those were luxuries I steered clear from. Â
Not only did brands refuse to make darker shades, but they also seemed allergic to pigment. I never realized how unfortunate it was at the time because it was so normal to walk into these drugstores only to see a wide range of tan to fair shades. Not being able to do a full face of makeup and feel confident cut deep for me. Especially as a dark-skinned girl, we aren’t society’s idea of beauty. Watching my friends have endless options of makeup, while only being limited to 3 products only further felt like a quiet but constant reminder of where I stood in the industry. Â
The thing with makeup brands is that they have the materials and the resources, yet they choose to exclude darker shades. Why do I have to travel to the ends of the Earth for a shade deeper than chestnut?Â
Fortunately, Rihanna came to the rescue in 2017 and introduced the launch of her billion-dollar makeup line, Fenty Beauty. Releasing 40 shades of long-wear foundation off the bat was groundbreaking. Not only did Fenty have a wide shade range, but it also included undertones. Rihanna broke a standard that was completely ignored in the makeup industry. It was about $35 at the time, which for eleven-year-old me was equivalent to $100. Yes, it was pricey, but that didn’t change the impact it had. Within the first 40 days, Fenty Beauty hit $100M in sales.Â
When makeup companies saw that Rihanna profited off of inclusivity, that’s when they decided to follow suit. After Fenty’s launch, a noticeable trend emerged: brands suddenly began expanding their shade ranges. The timing felt less like growth and more like damage control. This was their attempt to try and convince their audience that they’ve “changed.” Similar to an ex that comes crawling back knowing they fumbled. Â
What’s interesting to me is that makeup brands didn’t think a variety of shades was important, not until it became profitable. In many ways, they reinforced the idea that proximity to whiteness was the default, and anything deeper was an afterthought. It took an A-list celebrity to recognize the exclusion and acknowledge the complexity of our skin. If Fenty Beauty had never launched, would these brands have expanded their shade ranges? History suggests probably not. Inclusion was never the priority, revenue was.Â
Representation should not require proof of profit. Darker skin should not need a billionaire co-signer to be seen as worthy of formulation, marketing, and shelf space. For girls like me, standing in disappointment and turning over bottles that were never meant for us, the issue was never just makeup. It was visibility. The message being told, subtly but consistently, that our shade existed outside the margins of the industry.Â
And that’s the real cost of exclusion: not the loss of sales, but the quiet normalization of being overlooked.Â
Now that I have big girl money, I’ve been able to purchase a few Fenty products. And yes, it healed something in me. This is definitely a forgive-but-never-forget situation. I can appreciate the progress while remembering the absence, because gratitude for change does not erase memory of exclusion.