Paul Ford

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What makes someone beautiful?

Beauty exists everywhere, but it’s never the same. Cultures define it. Biology influences it. Advertising exploits it. People chase it. Whatever its shape, the idea of beauty has always mattered.

Across the world, most people can agree on who is considered attractive. That agreement carries weight. Beauty signals status, health, sex appeal and social acceptance. It also affects how people are treated. Those seen as beautiful are often favoured socially, professionally, and even legally. The reasons for this run deep.

One of the oldest links between beauty and survival comes from reproduction. In early human societies, being physically attractive made it easier to find a mate. That meant more support, better food, shared shelter, and healthy children. Today, those same traits are still rewarded. Instead of food and protection, it might mean a higher salary or more social influence.

What draws people in tends to be symmetry. The face plays a central role. A balanced face is easy on the eye. It hints at good genes, good health, and physical stability. Eyes that are uneven or skin that is scarred stand out because they disrupt that balance. People notice. That reaction may be subconscious, but it still shapes behaviour.

The body also speaks. A lean figure, straight posture and clear skin suggest discipline, vitality and time for self-care. In some cultures, this might reflect privilege. Someone who has the resources to exercise, eat well and spend time outdoors. Even when the results are artificial, the signal is the same. A tan from a bottle, streaks from a salon or cosmetic procedures are still read as beauty.

But not every culture agrees on what beauty looks like.

In Nigeria, larger women are considered attractive. Fullness is tied to fertility and the ability to bear children. In parts of Southeast Asia, where food was once scarce, body fat signalled wealth and strength. A bigger frame meant survival and security. In these cases, size is not about health or fitness. It is about social value.

Cultural context always matters. In Victorian Britain, pale skin was prized because it showed you did not work outside. In modern Los Angeles, a deep tan is a sign of leisure. Beauty shifts with time, place and politics. The rules are never fixed.

Sometimes, these ideals come with risk. Victorian women used lead-based powders to lighten their faces. Skin damage, organ failure and death were known side effects. Still, many persisted. In Myanmar, the Kayan women wear stacked brass rings around their necks. The rings press the collarbone down, distorting the torso to create the illusion of a longer neck. The effect can be permanent. In China, foot binding once served the same purpose. It altered the body to meet an ideal, often at great cost.

Modern beauty practices are no less extreme. In parts of East Asia, many women undergo surgery to create a fold in the eyelid. The goal is to look more Western. In the West, women starve themselves to look like fashion models. In both cases, people modify their bodies to match an image that does not naturally occur.

Other cultures take a different approach. In Maasai communities, beauty is about grooming. Clean skin, bright teeth and colourful beaded jewellery are all within reach. The message is clear. Beauty can be created through care, not surgery. It is not about becoming someone else. It is about presenting yourself well.

In Ethiopia, the Suri people use lip plates as a beauty marker. Girls have their bottom teeth removed and their lower lips pierced and stretched to hold a clay disc. The size of the plate is tied to dowry negotiations. Larger plates increase value. This is not a metaphor. The worth of a woman is measured in cattle.

The Māori of New Zealand take a different route. Their traditional facial tattoos, known as Tā moko, once marked status and social eligibility. Without them, you could be excluded from tribal life. Today, some Māori have revived the practice to reclaim cultural identity. In this case, beauty is tied to pride and belonging, not conformity.

For some cultures, tattoos are not enough. In parts of Africa where skin is too dark for ink to show, people turn to scarification. The Karo tribe mark their bodies with raised scars. Men use them to record kills in battle. Women use them to attract partners. The scars signal identity, history and desirability.

In the West, African-descended populations have pushed back against Eurocentric ideals. Dreadlocks, afros and natural hairstyles are not just aesthetic choices. They are acts of defiance against the dominance of straight, smooth hair. Still, the goal remains the same. To be seen. To be valued.

In parts of the Middle East, modest clothing now represents an alternative kind of beauty. The appeal lies in what is hidden. A flash of the wrist. A trace of a silhouette. Beauty here is coded as restraint. Humility. Control. It positions itself in contrast to Western norms, where exposure is often the default.

Despite all these differences, the same core patterns repeat. Beauty reflects status. It signals health, availability, control and value. It rewards those who meet its terms and punishes those who do not. It changes shape, but not function.

People may reject certain ideals, but they rarely reject the idea of beauty itself. The standard may shift. The methods may evolve. But the desire to be beautiful or at least considered attractive does not disappear.

In every community, at every point in history, people have found ways to define and display what is beautiful. Whether through grooming, art, injury or technology, the goal is recognition. And for better or worse, that goal still matters.