GENERATION BEAUTY

Sephora Tweens Are Nothing New

But getting publicly shamed for being one is.
photo collage of two tweens in the early 2000s surrounded by sephora bags
Courtesy authorDesign by Bella Geraci

From sea to shining sea, preteens are spending their birthday money on barrier-repair creams and collecting fragrances like Beanie Babies. Allure set out to find out when and how tweens became beauty experts—and over the course of six weeks shadowing seven of them, we got some compelling answers. Come get to know Generation Beauty.

When I opened my TikTok app and began scrolling my feed last week, I was inundated with a barrage of users on a PSA mission. Apparently, Sephora stores across the country are no longer safe due to an infestation of tweens in search of Rare Beauty and Drunk Elephant. Adults complained that these children were making their favorite products sell out, employees shared how 12-year-olds were making messes of samples, and dermatologists tried to tell kids on the app that the expensive products they’re coveting were not designed for their younger skin. Some people even made calls to place an age limit on entering a Sephora. While I understand the frustration these adults have faced due to some unruly tweens, barring youths from shopping at Sephora is not only ridiculous, but actually inhibits their ability to play, think creatively, and learn how to take care of themselves. I’m taking this strong stance because I was a Sephora tween myself.

I entered the 7th grade in 2006. YouTube was only a year old and Instagram didn’t exist. It was a time where I spent hours chatting with my friends after school on AIM, carefully curated my MySpace page and Top 8, and mostly used my flip phone to call my parents to pick me up from theater rehearsals and sports practices. On Friday nights, the parents of Pasadena, California would drop their tweens off to converge in front of a movie theater at the Paseo Colorado outdoor mall. It was the social event of the week, bringing together kids from different middle schools in the area. I felt so cool and independent having a night out unsupervised. We would sit down at Islands Restaurant and fill up on fries and unlimited soda, or occasionally convince our parents to give us enough money to have a pre-show dinner at the mall’s hibachi restaurant. If we had extra time before the 7pm showing of the latest blockbuster, we would explore the aisles of DSW and practice walking in high heels or spend our little allowance on a new lotion at Bath & Body Works. After the movie was over, I’d catch up with friends and flirt with crushes until my ride arrived.

One of my favorite activities before showtime was to visit Sephora with my friends. I have distinct memories of walking through those aisles at that age. We were at a moment in our lives where we barely used makeup, our tiny collections at home consisting mainly of Covergirl mascara and whatever leftovers our mothers would let us borrow from their collections. But when we went to Sephora, we entered into a wonderland of play and exploration. Every product we read about in magazines was there for us to try out in real life. We could make our eyes sparkly or smoky with Urban Decay Naked palettes, cover up those hormonal pimples with Benefit Boi-ing concealer, gloss our lips with Lancôme Juicy Tubes, or spritz ourselves with fresh and fruity scents like Marc Jacobs Daisy and Juicy Couture.

My middle school side table, featuring Bumble and Bumble Wave Spray from Sephora, a few OPI nail polishes, Rosebud Salve, and another unidentifiable lip gloss that I remember tasted like strawberry.

Courtesy author

Unlike the people silently filming (and judging) tweens today, employees patiently showed us how to properly use samples with disposable spoolies and brushes. We would listen enraptured if they gave us any advice to improve our not-so-polished makeup skills. I admit that we rarely would make a purchase in these pre-show escapades, but we did have a lot of fun. We didn’t necessarily need makeup at that age — after all, you don’t “need” makeup at any age — but it added to that excitement of getting to go to the movies alone and inching towards adulthood and independence.

Sephora allowed us to play dress up for free without the intimidating elegance of the makeup counters at department stores like Macy’s or Nordstrom. We would have a blast exploring the world of beauty. Beauty influencers on YouTube were just beginning to emerge so we didn’t have such easy access to in-depth tutorials. We understood that beauty was an older, more mature thing that we would learn from our mothers and professionals, and we treated it with respect.

I would occasionally return to the store with my mom and ask her to purchase certain products that I loved. I would take her back on my journey through the aisles and she would calmly tell me what products were realistic and what were too expensive or not formulated for someone my age. She told me that I was not ready for heavy foundations and red lipstick, but would let me get small items like Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturizer, Lancôme Définicils mascara, and Rosebud Lip Salve. I wouldn’t have a tantrum when I heard no. I was just grateful for these treats from the adult world of beauty. My mom would go into the skin-care section to get items for herself and we listened to sales associates who helped guide me towards tween-friendly products like light moisturizers with SPF. My skin, hair, and makeup routine ended up mixing a few nice items from Sephora with drugstore products — and it would stay that way until I got a job at 16 and could buy more myself.

My brother and me at my middle school promotion. Curling my hair was always a big deal — note the mid 2000s side bang. I paired my mid-2000s side bang with Lancôme Définicils mascara and a light pink and blue swirl Juicy Tube lip gloss I had begged for.

Courtesy author

Any time I enter a Sephora now, at age 30, I get a mini flashback to those years. The world of beauty is something I still love and revere. While I usually enter the store on a mission, there’s a hint of that excitement and opportunity to play. Even when I’m going to get something as simple as shampoo, I’ll swipe on some eye shadow, explore some lip shades, or sample a new perfume. I let myself have a bit of fun and lean into that feeling of girlhood — even in the utilitarian experience of restocking my skin-care or makeup essentials.

With the hyper-presence of social media in the lives of tweens today, their relationship to beauty is a little bit different than mine was at their age. There is a greater expectation to look made up than we did — and they can do it well. After all, kids have better access to learn makeup techniques with internet tutorials. As far as hobbies go, experimenting with Rare Beauty blush and Benefit liquid liner seems pretty harmless. Kids should be allowed to play and express themselves with color and their personal style. Where they may need more guidance is in the realm of skin care. Tweens should focus on developing healthy habits like cleansing their faces and using sunscreen. The popular products meant to combat signs of aging that they're flocking to are usually too harsh and can destroy their young skin barriers.

I don’t think we should ban these pre-teens from going to Sephora, but I do think we should do better at educating them — and not by scolding them online for being curious about retinol or drawn in by fun packaging. Parents can teach kids the rules of exploring a space like Sephora with respect. Beauty influencers and dermatologists on social media could understand their audiences and let them know what products are helpful to their age demographic. We can still allow younger people to explore, dress up, and fall in love with beauty. Let’s just maybe steer them away from the Drunk Elephant aisle.


Now, do some product discovery of your own:


Next, watch Jennifer Aniston react to popular TikTok trends:

Follow Allure on Instagram and TikTok, or subscribe to our newsletter to stay up to date on all things beauty.