Opinion: We should gatekeep Arab beauty secrets from creators who feed into overconsumption

TikTok beauty creators are infamously good at persuading their followers to purchase a lot of products, so much so, that the phrase ‘overconsumption core’ was coined to describe this phenomenon. And niche Arab products are becoming another category of things for people to impulsively purchase and hoard.

The increase in popularity of Arab beauty and hygiene products started with perfume, when tons of western TikTok creators discovered how affordable and potent the scents were compared to mainstream designer fragrances. Perfume enthusiasts on the app ‘blind-buy’ the fragrances from online retailers, unbox them, and react to the scents on camera, often on a daily basis. In the background of their bedroom, you’ll see a whole ten-row shelf of fragrances stacked up like seasonings in your mother’s spice cabinet. “I have over 250 perfumes, but this is the one you NEED to get,” they say convincingly.

What seriously caught me off guard as I was scrolling on the app one day was a viral video of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed white girl using a miswak to whiten her teeth, describing it as ‘the best oral hygiene hack.’ Seeing an American using something we Arabs notably associate with the Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) was bizarre. I saw another girl promoting a bottle of white musk (mesk el tahara), revealing its prevalence in the Arab girl community as one of our biggest hygiene secrets. And then you have videos of people promoting bukhoor hairbrushes to make their hair smell good. But with all of these revelations and recommendations, it appears the main goal is to get their followers to purchase the products —specifically from their TikTok shops—to earn commission.

My issue with beauty creators isn’t just pushing the habit of overconsumption onto their viewers, but practically hypnotizing them into feeling like they need every single item they decide to make a video about. What makes it even more frustrating is when they do this with ethnic products as if they’re new, when there was a whole community of people using these things for years and years prior to their coincidental discovery. Then, the products sell out and prices inevitably go up. Consumers end up waiting for monthly ‘drops’ because the products become so in demand.

Now, don’t get me wrong; people are allowed to use and share Arab products they genuinely enjoy. And I love seeing Arab-owned businesses become successful. But even if this can be seen purely as ‘cultural appreciation’, it also raises the inevitable question: how long will it be before a non-Arab person reinvents it for a profit?

Time and time again, we’ve seen different cultural objects and practices adopted by westerners, only to be gentrified or stripped of credit to their origins. We’ve seen it happen with yoga, boba, and gua sha, to name a few. It’s also quite puzzling to witness a person constantly raving about Arab perfumes and how good Arab people smell, yet stay silent on the horrific injustices affecting our people in Palestine, Lebanon, Yemen, and Sudan.

True cultural appreciation isn’t just about how delicious a country’s food is, or how catchy their music is. It’s about looking at people beyond a surface level, in the eye, and saying: We hear you, and we see you. From one human being to another.

True cultural appreciation is accepting people in their most imperfect, vulnerable moments and understanding them when no one else does. 

And I might be asking for too much, but true cultural appreciation is advocating for the rights of those people whose food you indulge in so vigorously. If you’re going to romanticise people while simultaneously ignoring their cries and screams, you don’t like them as much as you convince your audience and yourself that you do.

As an Arab woman, I don’t believe we owe it to anyone to share our beauty secrets—especially not for them to become just another item in a TikTok shop.

There’s an undeniable allure to wearing that white musk, and someone asking you: “Oh my God, what are you wearing?” and you telling them it’s something from your culture that they have probably never heard of before. 

Bring back mystery. Bring back allure. 

And from one Arab girl to another, bring back gatekeeping.