Beautycon new face of make-up world
THOUSANDS of cat-eyed, cheek-contoured, glitter-doused women – and more than a few painted men – descended on the South Hall of the Los Angeles Convention Center last month, gathering at the make-up mecca that is Beautycon.
For two days, as they wandered among more than 200 elaborately festooned booths sponsored by brands such as Maybelline and Lime Crime, they searched for samples and stars. Some would be instantly familiar to anyone with a passing knowledge of reality television – Kim Kardashian West, others clearly had a more specialised fan base (Nikita Dragun, anyone? How about Gigi Gorgeous or Manny MUA?)
Nearly all the bathrooms at the centre had been converted to be gender-neutral. Staff wore T-shirts with a welcome list on the back that read: “All races, all genders, all ages, all countries of origin, all sexual orientations, all religions” as well as “all glamazons, all natural beauties, all unicorns”.
Clad in crop tops, Janelle Tejan and Phoenix Alden, both 22 and models from Colorado, US, were jittery with excitement an hour into the first day.
“I held Laura Lee’s hand; she told me she loved my look,” gushed Tejan, delighted that Lee, a make-up artist with nearly 5 million YouTube subscribers, had taken the time to speak briefly to her.
Tejan beamed when asked about the silver stars around her eyes, affixed with tweezers and eyelash glue. “I want to be a successful YouTuber someday,” she said.
“I came for Drew Barrymore,” interjected Alden, her eyes ringed in pink and orange, the only pop of colour standing out against her black suspenders holding up her black mini-skirt, with a black fedora perched on her head.
Alden, who is in the US Air Force, had just taken a selfie with the actress on her way to the booth for Barrymore’s six-yearold Flower Beauty brand. Tejan nodded in agreement: “My grandmother loves Drew Barrymore.”
As she participated in a meet-andgreet with fans, Barrymore said events like this were a useful way to reach out to beauty shoppers.
These consumers demand a personal touch, often literally, in the form of a hug or selfie. The question, she said, was: “How are you paying attention to me as a loud, confident individual?”
A record 23 300 of those loud, confident individuals attended Beautycon LA, an event that is equal parts competitive shopping scene, feel-good festival and marketing bonanza.
Described as Sephora meets Coachella, Beautycon is not unlike a theme park, with hour-long queues, expensive food and the occasional chance to scream. Tickets range from $50 (R672) for a single-day pass to $1 000 for two days of VIP treatment.
Both brands and attendees come with a #picsoritdidnthappen mentality. Shoppers are after social-media bragging rights, and companies see those same posts as a chance to spread their marketing dollars beyond the convention centre’s walls.
Dressed-up corporate photo bait filled the hall, including a dozen pink carpets, complete with flattering lighting and a Beautycon backdrop.
Swings at Target, Aveda and Rimmel London, and shirtless men almost everywhere – wielding lipstick-tipped power drills at MAC, covered in metallic body paint at Masque Bar – were the quick pic gimmicks du jour.
“You don’t need lipstick. Lipstick needs you,” one of Beautycon’s hallmark sayings, was stripped in pink block text across the wall behind a pink sofa in the pink-carpeted enclave of Moj Mahdara, chief executive of Beautycon.
A 40-year-old Persian-American, Mahdara was born in Lexington, Kentucky, and grew up in Erie, Pennsylvania. She moved to Orange County, California, in 1998, then to Los Angeles two years later in search of a way into the music industry.
Instead, she found a more viable path as a digital strategist, helping consumer and entertainment brands develop online campaigns with celebrities such as Pharrell Williams and Gwen Stefani. She built and sold a digital agency, and worked with a number of large brands including HTC and Lacoste.
After briefly toying with the idea of getting an MBA, Mahdara decided instead to take that money and invest it in direct-to-consumer brands such as Outdoor Voices and Harry’s razors.
In 2013, as she was developing her new digital consulting agency, Mahdara’s lawyer told her about a coming gathering of beauty YouTubers – a group of digital personalities meeting in Los Angeles.
Although she says: “I’m not a beauty person” – she does not wear make-up – Mahdara was then looking to start her own digital-influencer management company, on the hunt for what she said was “the next gen of QVC”.
Mahdara, who had given a somewhat rambling TEDx Talk that year, titled “Everyone is a Media Company”, saw the potential to open the YouTuber meet-up to the fans.
Six weeks later, she helped put together the first Beautycon to be open to the public, investing about $250 000 of her own money. Brands such as NYX Professional Make-up and bareMinerals signed on, and 6 000 people showed up to the free event, forming a queue around a block in Hollywood.
By the next year, Mahdara had bought out the majority of the shares of the event’s original organiser and became Beautycon’s chief executive.
Mahdara envisioned a new experiential retail model.
“There’s a lot of stuff for music and a lot of stuff for gaming and a lot of stuff for sport,” she said.
“What became clear to me is that there was nothing for young women and people in general who were interested in beauty, but not sure how they fit into that world.”
Her goal was not just an offline experience but a marketplace, one that would translate into sales for beauty companies.