Brown Skin, Missing Frame: A Love Letter to the Forgotten Standard
Let’s be clear: when the world talks about “natural beauty,” they are rarely, if ever, talking about Black women. Despite being the world majority. Despite being the blueprint. Despite being the source from which so many “natural” trends are born.
We are not included in the conversation—unless we’re talking to ourselves.
What Does Natural Beauty Really Look Like?
When I think of natural beauty, I think of the deepest brown skin. I think of that glow—the radiant heat that dark skin emits in the sun, in the moonlight, in its own damn glory. I think of braids, kinks, coils, curls. I think of cocoa butter, mango butter, milk baths, and rose petals. I think of ritual, rest, and nourishment. I think of heritage. I think of us.
I don’t think of poreless Eurocentric features. I don’t think of beige skin with faux freckles and a strategically disheveled bun. I don’t think of “barely there” brows and pastel blush.
The truth is, Black women are natural beauty. But that’s not what the world wants to see. That’s not what gets labeled “effortless.” That’s not what gets centered on campaign ads or magazine covers—unless someone non-Black is profiting off our look.
The Beauty Thieves Stay Stealing
Every few years, they “discover” something we’ve been doing since forever:
Lip plumping? We were born with that.
Baby hairs laid to perfection? Child’s play.
Braids, locs, twists? Sacred tradition.
Glowing skin? Comes standard with melanin.
But when it’s on us, it’s “too much,” “too loud,” “too urban.” When it’s on them, it’s “trendy,” “cool,” and “natural.”
How does that math work?
The Erasure is Real—and Intentional
I’ve never personally felt like my features were “too much.” But looking back, I realize that’s because I conformed—consciously or not. I knew what society expected in professional settings. I knew what kind of grooming and styling was “safe.” But growing up, I was surrounded by natural beauty—Black women who wore their skin, their hair, their style with grace and power. So I didn’t feel lacking… I just didn’t realize I was being slowly edited out of the beauty story.
We’ve Been Doing This
We are not new to self-care. We are not new to holistic beauty.
We are the origin. The mothers of the movement. The blueprint of everything.
Natural beauty to me isn’t a trend—it’s a lifestyle. It’s soaking my feet in Epsom salt and rose petals. It’s nourishing my body with shea, mango, and kokum butters. It’s honoring my skin with what the Earth gave us. That is natural beauty. And no amount of TikTok routines or filter-free selfies can replicate what flows through our bloodline.
The Weight of Being the Blueprint
Black women, especially Black American women, are hated globally. Let’s not sugarcoat it. We are hated, overlooked, under-protected, and yet always imitated. We live with macro and micro aggressions daily, and still—they want our style, our slang, our sauce, and our softness. They don’t want us—just our essence.
Other cultures study us. They monetize us. They build empires off the beauty that we are often told is “too much.” And yet… they come back every time to take more. It’s a vulture culture, and we are the feast.
To Every Black Girl Reading This
You are the standard.
You are the truth.
You are the prototype and the evolution.
Don’t let the world gaslight you into thinking otherwise. Your melanin is divine. Your features are regal. You are not “extra”—you are everything.
Be cocky. Be bold. Be educated. Be sacred.
Your crown is heavy because your beauty is a burden too powerful for the weak. You are the daughter of legacy. Don’t ever let a genetic mutation make you feel less than.
Period. I said what the fuck I said.
