Two Sides of a Mirror: Between Tan Oil and Sunscreen

On the beaches of Bali, under the sharp afternoon sun, Western tourists lay on benches in bikinis, their skin in different shades of bronze, covered by sunscreen and tanning oil. For those influenced by Western beauty ideals, tanning seems to be a natural part—if not essential part of vacation. Everything felt so effortless and normal that it took me a moment to realize why this scene seemed oddly unfamiliar. My mind jumped back to the beaches of Sanya, China, where the sun isn’t seen as a luxury but more as a threat. There, despite the warm weather, beachgoers often stay covered in long sleeves and wide hats. In contrast to bikinis, some would wear “facekinis” —a mask designed to block UV rays, covering the entire head and face with openings only for the eyes, nose, and mouth. With their bodies fully shielded by sun-protective gear, they looked less like vacationers trying to chill and relax than bank robbers trying to hide all their physical features.

This stark difference made me wonder: why is getting tanned seen as something so undesirable in China that people go so far to wearing these extremely exaggerated clothes to avoid it? In Chinese culture, there is an old saying— “一白遮百丑” —meaning “a fair complexion conceals a hundred flaws”. Even as early as kindergarten, during our make-believe games, children with fairer skin were more likely to be chosen as the princess or prince, while those with darker skin were cast as soldiers—or even cats and dogs. But what lies beneath this beauty ideal—one that even three-year-olds seem to understand and accept without a doubt?

A common explanation for such beauty ideals traces back to agrarian society. Since most people relied on strenuous outdoor labor for their livelihood, lighter skin was typically found only among the upper class—those who could earn a living without engaging in agricultural work. Ms. Yao, one of the Chinese women who covered her face in a facekini on the beach, said, “A woman should always have fair skin, otherwise people will think you’re a peasant.” Over time, fair skin became unconsciously linked to higher social status, and eventually, to beauty itself. European colonization later reinforced these ideals, as Europeans—often pale-skinned—were the ones in power, while the colonized populations, usually darker-skinned, were subjected to exploitation. However, this phenomenon is not simply about racism, as some might assume, but ultimately colorism—discrimination based on skin tone within the same racial group. Research indicates that during the colonial period, individuals with darker skin tones were frequently subjected to more intense labor than their lighter-skinned counterparts within the same racial group. This further strengthened the association between light skin and privilege, continuing to shape beauty standards around the world today.

As these stereotypes become increasingly ingrained, correlation gradually turns into causation—lighter skin color is no longer just a beauty preference, but a form of tangible privilege. These privileges can be as small as choosing more desirable roles in kindergarten make-believe games, or as significant as having better prospects in the job market. In a study conducted in Singapore, researchers asked NUS students to evaluate 12 profiles of fictitious job applicants for an entry-level position. Although all job candidates were identified as Chinese Singaporeans, their photos were computer-manipulated to represent a range of skin tones. Analysis revealed that there is a modestly sized bias against dark- and medium-skinned applicants relative to light-skinned applicants. In addition, researchers also found that the size of the bias became larger when the range of applicant qualifications was narrower. In other words, participants relied more on appearance to guide their judgements when it was more difficult to rank applicants by their credentials alone. This shows how skin color can directly influence one’s chances in the workplace. In this case, skin color is no longer a reflection of one’s socioeconomic status; instead, it becomes either a barrier or an advantage, shaping one’s potential for professional success. This could be another explanation for the contemporary obsession with lighter skin tones—having a fairer complexion can provide tangible and practical benefits in one’s social life and career.

As skin tone plays such a significant role in shaping other’s perceptions of beauty, many people go to great lengths to achieve a more “desirable” complexion. Beyond wearing sun-protective clothing to prevent tanning, some turn to skin-lightening products. Globally, the skin-lightening products market size is projected to grow from USD 9.67 billion in 2024 to USD 16.42 billion by 2032, with Asia Pacific leading the market—holding a 53.69% share in 2023. Walking on the streets of Singapore, I often come across advertisements for skin clinics showing dramatic before-and-after images. In the “before” photo, the model appears tired and exhausted; in the “after,” she suddenly looks energetic and vibrant, with a large smile on her face. These ads again reinforced the message that achieving lighter skin is not just about beauty—it’s about success, confidence, and happiness. 

In contrast, an opposite trend—tanning—has become prominent in the Western world in recent decades. Earning that perfect bronze glow and elegant tan lines has led countless people to spend days just lying on the beach—just like I saw in Bali. In Western cultures, tanning carries connotations similar to that of lighter skin in Asia, symbolizing wealth and privilege. A tan suggests the luxury of leisure time spent relaxing on beaches or having the disposable income to invest in artificial tanning methods. This stark contrast made one thing clear: no single shade of skin defines beauty. Under varying cultural contexts, the same skin tone can carry completely different meanings—and be judged in entirely different ways.

But ultimately, why does any of this matter? What’s the problem in wearing sun-protective clothing or tanning, aside from feeling a bit too warm in the hot summer days? The issue lies in the health risks tied to both skin whitening and tanning. The Zero Mercury Working Group analyzed 271 skin-lightening products from over 40 online platforms, and found that 129—nearly one in two— contained mercury levels exceeding 1 ppm, the international legal limit set by the Minamata Convention on Mercury. Mercury is highly toxic; it can corrode the skin, cause kidney damage if accidentally ingested, and even lead to neurological and behavioral disorders when inhaled. Similarly, tanning poses its own dangers. According to the FDA, tanning substantially increases one’s risk of developing skin cancer and accelerates premature skin aging. When people begin to risk their health to alter their skin tone—a beauty ideal rooted in outdated stereotypes of status and class—that standard loses any meaning and becomes not only hollow, but also harmful.

Skin-whitening and tanning are like standing on opposite sides of a mirror—each chasing a version of beauty shaped not by individual will, but by ingrained cultural expectations. While one seeks to lighten and the other to darken, both reflect the same underlying desire—to use skin color as a symbol of higher status and greater privilege. Therefore, rather than continuing this cycle of endless envy, perhaps it’s time to embrace who we truly are—to reconcile with our most original appearance and identity.