Makeup has always been a creative act of transformation.
In the roles where makeup is expected to serve purely as an aesthetic finishing touch, I’ve always pushed for a deeper narrative — something that goes beyond the surface. I often decline projects where makeup is treated as an afterthought, applied without questioning why. For me, makeup has never been just about appearance — it is a language, a history, and a means of telling the truth about who we are.
What I seek in my work (and in life) is the origin story — the reason behind a painted line, the purpose of a certain pigment, the cultural heartbeat that makes us choose one shade over another. I find it difficult to speak about makeup “trends” because they feel like passing clouds: quick, forgettable, and rarely rooted in meaning.
Makeup has always been a creative act of transformation.
In the roles where makeup is expected to serve purely as an aesthetic finishing touch, I’ve always pushed for a deeper narrative — something that goes beyond the surface. I often decline projects where makeup is treated as an afterthought, applied without questioning why. For me, makeup has never been just about appearance — it is a language, a history, and a means of telling the truth about who we are.
What I seek in my work (and in life) is the origin story — the reason behind a painted line, the purpose of a certain pigment, the cultural heartbeat that makes us choose one shade over another. I find it difficult to speak about makeup “trends” because they feel like passing clouds: quick, forgettable, and rarely rooted in meaning.
Historically, however, makeup and body adornment have always been rich in purpose. They were markers of unity and belonging: the ochre body paint of the Himba women of Namibia, used to protect skin from the sun while signalling beauty and status; the intricate oshiroi white face of the Japanese geisha, a canvas of tradition and performance; the kohl-rimmed eyes of Ancient Egypt, believed to ward off evil spirits and protect eyesight.
In the Surma and Mursi tribes of Ethiopia, women insert clay plates into their lips as a symbol of maturity and social standing, while in the Māori culture of New Zealand, the moko kauae (chin tattoo) connects a woman to her ancestral lineage and identity. In every case, adornment was a celebration — an embodiment of power, spirituality, or life’s milestones.
At its core, beauty has an evolutionary dimension: the most primal form of attraction is rooted in survival and reproduction — finding a partner whose physical signals suggest strong genes and the ability to create and protect life. But beauty quickly evolved beyond biology into something spiritual and social: a way to honour cultural belonging, mark rites of passage, or declare your position in a community. Across centuries, the result has been an intricate web of visual languages — each unique to its place, its people and its time.
Across history, certain traits were desirable not only because they suggested reproductive health, but because they hinted at access to resources, comfort, and privilege. In Renaissance Europe, pale skin was considered the height of beauty — not because it was inherently more attractive, but because it signified a life spent indoors, shielded from labour and sun. In 18th-century France, the elaborate powdered wigs and rouged cheeks of the aristocracy projected both affluence and vitality. In Victorian England, a fuller figure on a woman was idealised, as it implied both well-being and the means to afford plentiful food. Even today, subtle traces of this intersection remain: glossy hair, flawless skin, and symmetrical features are often perceived as “beautiful” because they signal health, while expensive clothing, dentistry, and cosmetic procedures suggest financial access to maintain that beauty.
Even the word beauty has shifted over the ages. Its original meaning was simply “the state or quality of being beautiful,” but over the past century — fuelled by Hollywood, glossy magazines, and relentless advertising, beauty has also come to mean all the tools and rituals we use to enhance our appearance. This merging of definition and application has blurred our understanding. Beauty ideals are no longer purely local or culturally distinct; they are now broadcast, copied, and standardised.
One hundred years ago, beauty ideals varied dramatically from country to country, tribe to tribe. Today, you can walk into a beauty store anywhere in the world and see the same brands, the same marketing campaigns, and the same “perfect” lip combo to mimic Kylie Jenner. A skilled surgeon can sculpt your face into the likeness of your favourite pop star, and TikTok offers endless tutorials to recreate any red carpet look within minutes.
It makes me wonder: what does this say about what we find attractive in 2025? And is there really a difference between a teenage girl in Finland learning to overline her lips for fullness and a young boy from the Toposa tribe of South Sudan enduring ritual scarification to mark his passage into manhood? Both are acts of transformation, both seek acceptance and admiration — but their contexts, their meanings, are worlds apart.
British born makeup artist Isamaya Ffrench has spent more than a decade bringing her avant-garde looks to life on some of the most recognisable faces. Her distinctive style and non-conformist approach to beauty has also made her one of the most sought-after artists for fashion shows and editorial campaigns. Isamaya’s extensive beauty experience, background in sculptural art and unique point of view are distilled into every product of her eponymous brand, ISAMAYA, which she launched in 2022. Her contribution reframes makeup not just as trend, but as testimony – a record of who we are and where we come from.
British born makeup artist Isamaya Ffrench has spent more than a decade bringing her avant-garde looks to life on some of the most recognisable faces. Her distinctive style and non-conformist approach to beauty has also made her one of the most sought-after artists for fashion shows and editorial campaigns. Isamaya’s extensive beauty experience, background in sculptural art and unique point of view are distilled into every product of her eponymous brand, ISAMAYA, which she launched in 2022. Her contribution reframes makeup not just as trend, but as testimony – a record of who we are and where we come from.
