I’m not a parent, nor do I fully understand the difficulties of raising a child, but as a Sephora regular and someone who was once a ten-year-old, I feel obligated to voice my concerns and criticisms. There has been a recent upheaval on TikTok regarding pre-teen girls destroying the testers, raiding Drunk Elephant, and treating employees terribly in Sephora. I never thought I’d be able to relate to the song “Little Girls” from the Broadway musical, Annie, until now. When I say “little girl”, I’m speaking specifically about kids still in elementary school. Once kids reach middle school, I think it’s pretty normal to have some simple cosmetics and be able to be respectful in a nice store.
Let me be clear— I don’t think there is anything wrong with children engaging in self-care. I think using face wash, SPF, and moisturizer regularly is a good habit to build at a young age. The issue is that ten-year-old skin is different from teenage and adult skin. More advanced products like retinol are not formulated for children, nor are they helpful. Unlike its competitor, Ulta, Sephora almost exclusively carries high-end make-up that is intended for and marketed towards teens and adults. The store also has an atmosphere that in no way implies “kid’s store.”
Sephora is supposed to be a place where customers can test products, consult with employees, and buy in peace. How can we do this when the testers are destroyed, and the employees are dealing with bratty children whose parents aren’t doing anything about it? All we can hear is whining and begging to spend five hundred more dollars just for parents to eventually give in, reinforcing bad behavior.
Thinking back to when I was a ten-year-old girl, the only “make-up” I was interested in was from Claire’s, Target, and Ulta. I was drawn to the Hello Kitty-themed glitters and glosses that barely even showed up on my skin and came off with ease. They leaned more toward the toy category than cosmetics and were formulated to be safe for children. Sephora typically doesn’t carry products in that realm. They satisfied my desire to emulate my mother getting ready for parties or any of the princesses and glamorous girls I saw in movies, but I still felt like I was playing. A store like Claire’s is marketed towards children. The products are cheap for two reasons. Firstly, children are generally destructive, and secondly, children shouldn’t care about having luxury cosmetics. Drunk Elephant is an expensive, luxury wellness brand that carries products for all types of complicated skin concerns that children under the age of twelve just don’t have.
So what does a ten-year-old want with Drunk Elephant? Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with spending money on your child within your means, but not on things they don’t need and shouldn’t even want. They’re just going to waste and ruin it anyway.
Personally, I don’t get ten-year-old GRWMs on my FYP, so I had to do some digging, and what I found was horrendous. Little girls mixing up hundreds of dollars worth of skincare products to create messy, mystery mixtures while cursing out every kid they don’t like in their elementary schools. I’m no expert but clearly, this is a reflection on both the parenting and societal changes of this younger generation.
I’m honestly more worried about the children than my experience at Sephora being ruined. I believe the root of the problem, aside from parenting, is that children aren’t watching kids channels on TV anymore with ads for toys and games. Instead they’re watching TikTok, and if they aren’t allowed, then they’re watching YouTube shorts, exposing them to advertising geared towards mostly teen and young adult audiences. All children mature at different rates but in general, children and adults should enjoy what’s meant for their appropriate age range. It’s only natural for children to want to emulate their parents and play grown-up, but when does playing grown-up become actually believing they’re grown-up? It seems like childhood is becoming shorter and shorter and it’s sad to see the concept of “play” disappear so soon.
Words by Mishi Ali.
Graphic by Gavin Bacher.