masculinity Archives - Very Good Light

Who is Kim Toni from Netflix’s Itaewon Class?

Netflix just wrapped its season finale of the popular Korean drama, Itaewon Class and we’re all crying.

One of the most talked about stars is Kim Toni, played by Chris Lyon, who’s fluent in English and Korean. The show centers around a character named Park SaeRoy, played by Park SeoJoon who was recently released from prison and his journey with opening up a bar in Itaewon. While it shows his journey, the show also highlights the life of five other free-spirited and ambitious young adults in his life.) As we watch the trailer and see the star-filled cast showcase their amazing acting skills towards the end, there is one actor who stood out.

One of its most heralded stars is Chris Lyon, a 27-year-old African American from the United States. It’s historic as South Korea, a mostly homogenous country has never had a foreigner become one of its dramas’ stars. But the drama’s breaking barriers by not only showcasing a three-dimensional, non-stereotypical black character but also a trans character as well. Along with the awesome storytelling, it’s no wonder the series is already trending in the top 10 most-watched series on Netflix in various countries.

In the show, Lyon plays Kim Toni, a Guinean character who came to Korea in hopes to find his Korean father and is working part-time in a restaurant.

At times, his character faces racism, based on real life. “There have certainly been several times where I’ve found myself in the exact same situation as Toni did in the show,” Chris tells Very Good Light. “It’s frustrating when you do meet people like that, but there have been Korean friends who have stood up for me in those situations. It’s really heartwarming to see people’s reactions to it.”

It’s a challenge Chris and many foreigners face in Korean media. With the ethnic makeup of South Korea being over 99% Korean, it’s often tricky when it comes to writing in diverse characters who aren’t based on stereotypes or tired tropes. Historically blackface has been implemented into entertainment and is unfortunately still prevalent today. While many do not mean to insult African Americans it still is because of the lack of diverse writers or cultural and historical context.

Which is why Chris’s representation of black people is so important. But the actor’s path to stardom in South Korea wasn’t planned.

Growing up in Orlando, Florida his only relation to Korea as a child was through a children’s song titled, 산토끼 (Mountain Rabbit) that his mother learned from a Korean friend and would sing to Chris. Later in high school and college, he’d befriend Korean exchange students. They shared both of their cultures which piqued his interest in Korea and the entertainment industry. It’s only after completing his degree in Information Technology at Andrews University he decided to move to Korea.

The drama’s breaking barriers by not only showcasing a three-dimensional, non-stereotypical black character but also a trans character as well.

“When I first moved to Korea I struggled the most with the things I took for granted: getting an apartment, setting up bank accounts, getting a phone,” he says. “The systems are slightly different than the US.”

Almost immediately, Chris became a working model, while working in music. He ended up getting his first gig working on a project with Big Bang’s G Dragon and the shopping conglomerate, Shinsegae. That led him to work on his first film, “Live Hard.” The indie film would prove to be life-changing as it eventually won the audience award at Bucheon Film Festival the following year. The role caught the eye of the movie’s scriptwriter, who was also working on Itaewon Class. He recommended Chris audition. “Honestly, that time is still a little bit of a blur to me. I want to say anywhere between a few days to 2 weeks,” he says. “There was some correspondence before we had any actual meetings, though.”

But the real work came after landing the gig. “I feel like becoming fluent is a never-ending process,” he says. “There are always subtleties that are buried in the nuances of a language. Expressions themselves and the intonations that are used for each expression are so different from Latin or Germanic based languages. I think that’s what made acting as Kim Toni so much of a challenge for me.”

On set, he recalls a time that the drama’s lead Park Seo Joon supported him. “I remember the first day of shooting he (Park Seo Joon) pulled me to the side to sit down with me and went over my script with me one-on-one to show me how he prepares,” he says. “He’s a real veteran and had so much to think about with his role and his lines. So for him to take the time out like that was something that I think not a lot of people would do. He’s a really great friend.”

His other costars have also given him a few pointers: “Ryu Gyeong-su and Kim Da-mi have both given great advice on not sounding like I grew up in the countryside, apparently I’ve picked up a dialect that sounds from rural Korea. – The main cast gets together from time to time when we’re not busy to go out to eat for dinner or just have fun. It’s like a small family.

While he’s becoming more fluent with the country, he’s also learning to appreciate Korea more each day. “I wish people realized how much inspiration you can get from other cultures like Korea,” he says. “There’s an entirely different set of social references that people make memes out of, an entirely different way they tell stories, an entirely different way they portray emotions. There are definitely similarities, and I think movies like Parasite and TV shows like Itaewon Class are really bringing that untouched sea of inspiration to people’s attention.”

In his day to day life as a foreigner in Korea, he is also able to see the stark differences between how masculinity is perceived in Western Culture and Asian Culture: “Surprisingly now even to me, not that different these days. Even 5-10 years ago, I feel like there was a huge difference in style and fashion. I think cultures both in the East and West have really started to be exposed to a lot of different types of masculinity.”

With all the love Itaewon Class is getting, Lyon is becoming a known celebrity across Korea: “The attention Itaewon Class has gotten has been different than anything I’ve been apart of before. It’s difficult for me to even walk out of my house to the convenience store down the road without getting stopped on the street now. I absolutely love meeting all of my fans. They’re all interesting people! It just takes some getting used to. I guess I just still think of myself as a normal person.”

Black men and self-care. What are we missing?

It’s about time we face the facts.

Throughout the beauty and entertainment industry, the narrative surrounding black men has lacked a key component: black men and self-love.

Thankfully, with the rise of social media and the evolution of technology, we continue to witness the black and brown communities challenge these inaccurate narratives. And with that, black men are using their voices and platforms to speak for themselves and showcase what it means to practice self-love.

SEE ALSO It’s okay to not be okay.

Social media movements like #BlackBoyJoy or #WeAreGolden both highlight two important topics when it comes to black men: Challenging a narrative in society that has been created by white patriarchal culture and the lack of representation in the entertainment industry still today. These hashtags have brought awareness and shined a light on humanization that Hollywood has historically stripped black men of.

While there has been some progress, culture continues to miss the mark when it comes to representing black men in all their glory.

One aspect comes from media. According to IndieWire, out of the top 100 films of 2019, only 34% of the films had leads or co-leads that were of color. When it came to filming directors that same year, 80% of them were white men. The numbers don’t lie. Those in power seem to all look a certain way. It’s also stems from a system that forces black men to still play by a certain set of rules.

Historically, during the Jim Crow era, white men installed “rules” to strip black men of their masculinity because of their fear of “black power.” In turn, this bred stereotypes around black men, which still exists in Hollywood since. This consistent history of degradation black men in America has had real emotional and psychological repercussions.

“Social media movements help challenge a narrative in society that has been created by white patriarchal culture and the lack of representation in the entertainment industry still today.”

But black men are apprehensive to seek help. According to the American Psychological Association, 86% of therapists in America are white. Black therapists make up only 4%, the lowest amount of representation. It matters who you speak with as it’s often difficult to be vulnerable when the expert you’re speaking to cannot even fathom your own experience.

Society continues to miss the mark when it comes to representing black men in all their magnificence but the narrative is changing. Very Good Light had the honor to speak with five Black men to ask them how they came into their own, despite their circumstance.

While some can recall self-care practices being instilled in them as a young child with the help of strong role models, others said that self-care evolved over time. From celebrity stylist to CEO’s in this project of a diverse pool we hope their words can shine a light on a narrative that is often overlooked when it comes to them.

Terrell Britten, 30, Licensed Esthetician

At the young age of 14, I found out what I was passionate about skincare. I received my first skincare set from Anthony-a skincare line for men and it was then that I knew I wanted to get serious about finding what worked for me and making sure that my skin stayed balanced. Every time I would get paid or received money from my grandparents, I would end up in the skincare aisle.

After graduating high school, I just knew I couldn’t let society choose my path on how I should look, or act, or even talk because they aren’t me, I’m me. By living in a box that society tries to put you in, you begin to realize that you can’t evolve into your higher being. With this in mind, I decided to follow my passion for skincare and pursuing a career as an Esthetician. 8 years later, you can find me across Sephora campaign ads all across the United States.

As my career kicked off, and my place in the beauty world became more and more prevalent something was missing. Some days, I wake up on the wrong side of the bed, and in order to show myself self-love, I speak daily affirmations while doing my skincare routine, through this, I find that I am taking care of my skin and my mental health simultaneously.

“I’m here for a purpose and there is a reason why I’m still here telling my story and I am grateful for each day.”

I began using my Instagram account to not only focus on skincare but on daily affirmations too.

I felt the need to share how I start my days off because I am all about uplifting and empowering others to be their best self and do what makes them radiate positivity. It is also a great way of getting people up and motivated and showing them self-care is everything, so why not show the world?

All in all, self-care is simply what you make of it, it’s what gives you peace of mind. Beauty is a big part of my identity and it fuels me to help others feel more confident, fearless and more powerful about themselves as well.

Calvin Quallis, 37, CEO of Scotch Porter

It all started when I was a little boy, I’ve always been my own worst critic. I’ve never allowed society’s narrative to dictate how I move and what I feel about myself. I think it has everything to do with being raised by a bunch of very strong black women, that were self-aware and super confident.

“I was taught the basics, get up shower, brush your teeth, wash your face and comb and brush my hair.”

Today, I spend a little more time in the mirror, with the belief that men should not have to break the bank to look and feel like a boss. I began to develop products that disrupt the multicultural grooming space, utilizing my collections to promote the importance of health and wellness amongst men globally. So, getting up each morning, and spending time, whether that’s 5 minutes for some or 30 minutes for others, in front of the mirror taking care of your hair, beard, and skin to me is an expression of self-care and wellness. This may sound a bit biased but I religiously use our Restoring Face Wash, Moisture Defend Face Lotion, our Smoothing Hair Balm and SkinMedica’s Essential Defense SPF 35.

Self-care does not stop in the bathroom, as it comes in different forms. I also get a workout in about two times a week along with meditating every morning and I practice gratitude. Before thinking of all the things that I have to do for the day, I think of all the things that I’m grateful for. It always begins with me being grateful for waking up to a new day, followed by whatever else I’m grateful for, like being able to pick up the phone and call my mom, or something very simple, like enjoying a cup of coffee.

Being present forces me to focus less on what I don’t have and find happiness in the simple things that I do have. It keeps me grounded and focused on all the great things that I have going on in my world and much less focused on the long to-do lists and stressful day ahead.

I read something that Oprah Winfrey said a while ago, that has stuck with me. She said, “I got so focused on the difficulty of the climb that I lost sight of being grateful for simply having a mountain to climb”. Perspective is everything.

CJ Mitchel, 26 New York Wardrobe Stylist & Social Media Influencer

In today’s fast-moving world we sometimes tend to forget about putting ourselves first and making sure that we are okay. We make time for our friends and family and leave ourselves last. Self-care to me looks like pure joy and genuine happiness from within. Growing up in the south I was taught about how society labels a black man and the rules or opinions on how a man should act or become.

“I wanted to be the author of my own story. I didn’t like the feeling of needing to live up to someone else’s standards.”

The aha monumental moment came when I began to witness some of my family members take routes in their lives that caused bad consequences. Instantly, the light bulb clicked in my head and that’s when I told myself “That’s not what I want for me, I want better for myself. What good would it be if I follow in their footsteps? I will just get the same results that they did.”

I began to prioritize a self-care routine for myself in college. For me, it was more than hygiene or skincare products it was about making sure that I was centered and in a positive mood before I start my day. With the help of prayer and meditation, I was able to do so. As my mental health progressed, my skin health began to as well. I started using a number of things throughout the year as the season changes like most people. I am currently finding that Cocoa Butter works for my body and facial care. I also swear by a brand called Urban Skin RX. They specialize in products for people who have melanin and I love it.

If I could go back and speak with 16 years old me, I would tell him to seek your own happiness within yourself and not from materialistic things. To always put yourself first, to never seek validation from others and lastly, to keep believing in your dreams and goals no matter how big they are, shoot for the stars.

Saleam Singleton, Beauty, Skincare and Style Enthusiast AKA The Method Male

When I was a teenager, self-care came naturally to me. I love myself and I want to take care of my mind, my body. This doesn’t mean that I’m perfect, or fully assembled as a person – but I’ve been practicing self-care for as long as I could remember, before “self-care” was in the vocabulary. I’ve created habits that turned into my lifestyle like eating clean as much as I possibly can, staying on top of my mental health, and being emotionally aware by being honest with myself.

Self-care to me is when you listen to yourself, what you need to improve or maintain, physically and beyond.

“Self-care is often mistaken as merely skincare or taking a bath but I’ve learned that there is no one answer, it is about self-awareness before anything else.”

You can’t work on what you don’t know and whereas I don’t feel responsible for rewriting what forces outside of myself think of me or my existence because I’m too busy making sure I can be happy with who I am. I use my Instagram Profile the Method Male to represent a growing demographic – men of color and their relationship to self-care, a unique voice that challenges current beauty norms.

Reflecting back, if I could I would encourage my younger self to first discover what self-worth is-then he might be prepared for the life ahead. I would tell him to feel comfortable in his beauty, his skinniness, his uniqueness. I’d also give him this piece of advice: “Most of the bs people will project onto you, will have absolutely nothing to do you. Go out there and be a dreamer.”

Dr. Melvin L. Williams 31, Assistant Professor and Communications Scholar

Self-care is both a personal process and struggle, for life can be chaotic yet fulfilling at times as a University Professor.

The constant giving of yourself for the uplift of humanity can sometimes leave one feeling burned out and asking, “Who is going to encourage the encourager?”

Nonetheless, my self-care consists of peaceful evenings with Tom Misch’s Geography album playing in the background, witty Instagram direct message sessions with my Howard and Tennessee State University friends, empowering phone conversations with my parents or mentor, Dr. Tia Tyree, and most recently, Joseline’s Cabaret on the Zeus Network.

“As an openly gay, Black man, drowning out societal narratives of Black heteronormative masculinity has been pivotal in embracing the richness and texture of my identity.”

I experienced homophobia very early in my childhood, and it made me yearn for opportunities to explore the experiences of Black LGBTQ community members. Sadly, those moments did not arrive, as I struggled silently in the closet until 2014.

I achieved an active voice as a doctoral student at The George Washington University in a Spring 2014 “Genders of Popular Culture” course taught by Dr. Todd Ramlow, an openly gay professor. It was the first time that I witnessed a professor be unabashedly gay in his classroom instruction and encourage my scholarly interests in Black queer studies. I would not be as fearless or as committed to my LGBTQ students if I had not first experienced Dr. Ramlow.

I began to prioritize a self-care routine in 2015. Fresh from graduate school, I was beginning to prepare for my 30s, and I knew that physical fitness and mental health had to become top priorities if I were to birth the career I envisioned. Consequently, I implemented a strict diet of clean eating, a rigorous workout regiment, mandated personal development meditations and readings, and spiritual cleansings of negative acquaintances and energy. In terms of daily practices, I work out twice a day, achieving a minimum of six miles and a thirty-minute; high-intensity interval training (HIIT) session; listen to The New York Times’ The Daily podcast during breakfast, and engage in a daily ten-minute reflection with Yogi tea.

If I could go back in time and speak with little Melvin, I would tell him, “Breathe easy kid! God has a feast for you so big that even at 31, you will still struggle to digest.”

Art by Mia Saine @mia.saine

Twitter came after him for his skincare video. What came next is beautiful.

He never thought that upon opening Twitter he’d become a viral sensation.

Certainly, not target of hate. But on that morning, he found himself the subject of tweets like, “but fellas, is this gay?” and “THIS N**** GAY”. It wasn’t something offensive he said – it was over a hydrofacial video.

It was supposed to be just another day for Curtis Brooks. The 25-year-old bartender and personal trainer from Massachusetts was gearing for work. He opened his phone to see a video of himself receiving a facial being retweeted by the hundreds. Suddenly, Curtis was becoming a viral sensation faster than he could keep up with.

While Twitter can certainly bring someone down – the platform has become one fueled by bandwagoning –Curtis says he was unbothered. As he explains it, the video was taken months ago and posted by his favorite place to treat himself, Vanity Lab Med Spa in Fall River, Massachusetts. Despite Curtis having his own feelings of what the facial looked like, he never thought his hydro-facial would spark such interest.

(Photo courtesy Instagram/ @curtkobangss)

“I don’t get offended,” says Curtis. “I was just upset because no one was tagging me or the spa and asking our permission.” Instead, he tried to take it in stride – and humor. “It’s almost like, you’re going to make fun of me because I love skincare? Sorry I take care of myself.” While the Twitter trolls were trying to get their homophobic comments in, questioning someone’s masculinity from self-care, Curtis made the entire situation positive. In turn, it caused people to take a step back and re-think about their hateful preconceived notions.

With the newfound visibility, he decided to take the opportunity post his weight loss journey and skincare tips. People instantly became incredibly supportive and helped him educate the haters. He even created his own hashtag, #CUMONITSJUSTAFACIAL while urging people to tag Vanity Lab Med Spa and himself.

And when y’all are done bashing people on Twitter, and want to work on yourself like I do… HMU . I got you – Curtis (@CurtissBrookss)

“As soon as I said something and made it known I wasn’t taking it, people started to notice,” Curtis tells Very Good Light. “People wanted to know what my diet plan is, my workout plan, and yeah, my skincare routine!” Curtis also wanted to make it known that he is proud of his sexuality and is happily married to his husband, Torey. He wanted to show everyone, their words didn’t matter with tweets like ‘100% a gay baby and I serve face on insta @curtkobangs’ and ‘me after my facial >.’ Curtis believes when people say ‘that’s so gay’ it stems from insecurities and misinformation. And when it comes down to it he says, people are shockingly unaware of how they can affect people with their words.

“I’m such a positive person, I’m actually glad this happened to someone like me so I have the opportunity to turn it into something great,” says Curtis. “This has honestly been a blessing in disguise, I was already thinking about starting a YouTube channel and figuring out ways for me to further spread my love and positivity. This was the motivator for me to really start.”

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Rockin my favorite hat 🖤

A post shared by CurtKo • Curtis Brooks (@curtkobangss) on Jan 10, 2020 at 6:28pm PST

With so much regard for self-love, we needed to know what masculinity means to Curtis. “Masculinity is feeling strong, the ability to have will-power, folding when needing to fold and realizing when you might be wrong in life, he tells Very Good Light. It’s taking care of yourself, owning everything that has to do with self-love. You simply can not care for others and spread love into the world without loving and respecting yourself first.”

At the end of it all, Curtis kept his #1 rule close to him. “No matter how much love you push onto people, you can’t push them to accept the love. You can only control your own actions. The best thing we can do is love ourselves and remember people’s opinions are only opinions.”

Kidd Kenn is the queer rapper bringing beauty to hip hop

Hip hop: There’s an opportunity to expand masculine notions.

While most of the music industry has evolved to break gender norms, it seems like a few in the rap community is still behind and tends to fall back into hyper-masculinity. The good news is there are many new players in the game looking to turn hip-hop into a more inclusive community. Think: Young Thug with his genderless ensembles, Bad Bunny and his affinity for nails, and a name you might not be familiar with, but should be: Kidd Kenn.

At only 17-years old, Kenn has broken more boundaries than most rappers throughout their careers by being the first openly queer rapper to sign to Island Records, perform onstage with Kehlani, and headline Red Bull Music’s Renaissance One Pride event in 2019 — all with a face that’s freshly beat to the gods.

With his mixtape, Child’s Play, dropping this Friday, we can’t help but wonder what else our favorite technicolor-haired rapper has in store for us. Very Good Light caught up with Kidd Kenn in NYC to chat all things beauty (of course), rap, and more!

What have you been up to?

“I’ve been working, working, working… making new music. I’m working on a lot of different stuff; a little bit of pop. I’m just stepping into different lanes, showing different sides of myself.”

Why rap?

“Because it makes me feel like a bad bitch.”

There’s a lot of machismo, toxic masculinity that’s still seeping into the hip hop community. How are you working to challenge that?

“I just do me, and I make sure everything I do is on point to stay valid. Nobody can’t really say nothing bad about it if my music’s good, regardless of how I look.”

You’re all about authenticity. How did you discover your confidence, especially when you’re so young?

“I’m not really sure. I just woke up one day and I just realized that this is life, and I get one turn with it. So, I just have to live for me and do what makes me happy. I can’t waste time thinking about how other people think of me or how everyone else lives, it’s just not going to benefit me in any way. I can’t really care about how everyone feels, because I’m going to live my life how I want to. I can’t let other people live my life, so I just started doing me and I ain’t turning back.”

You’re from Chicago. How was it coming up there and finding your rap career, as well as your overall identity?

“It was fun. I hung out with my friends all of the time, just kickin’ it around the hood. It was lit, though. Growing up in Chicago was great.”

What’s your connection to beauty?

“My barber does all of my colors for me, and I do different colors because I don’t like looking the same all of the time. I like to switch it up.”

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Ion even Fuck with dat….

A post shared by ChildsPlay (@kiddkenn) on Feb 15, 2020 at 6:26pm PST

Who’s one style inspiration for you?

“Nicki Minaj. Her business and how she works is just so inspiring to me. If I could switch closets with anyone for a day, it would be Nicki — she’s got the whole Fendi collection, after all. Or maybe Kylie Jenner, I saw her closet and it’s insane. Her closet is like a house, she has a whole room just for bags. I love Lady Gaga’s style, too.”

What are your favorite beauty trends of the moment right now?

“I love my eyebrows, and I love highlight.”

What beauty brands are you into right now?

“I use MAC Cosmetics a lot — now that I think about it, all of the makeup I use is MAC. For my hair, I couldn’t even tell you. I use so many things for my hair, especially the colors.

What’s your beauty routine?

“I’m not gonna spill all of my secrets, but I dye my hair a lighter color and then just spread the color on so it comes out this bright. Then I just wrap it every night to make it look fresh.

“For skincare, I wash my face every day. I get a rag, warm it up in the microwave for 30 seconds, make sure that it’s real hot. Then, lay it on your face, and let the steam do its thing. When it cools down, wipe your face. Then use lotion, and you’re set.”

Who are your favorite designers of the moment?

“I get all of my clothes from Boohoo, I love Boohoo. But, I don’t mind a pair of Balenciaga’s every now and then.”

What advice do you have for men in regard to beauty?

“I feel like makeup is supposed to enhance your beauty, not make you feel different. So, just ease into it and don’t overboard with it. I incorporate all of my natural flaws into my makeup, and it makes me feel good. But, at the end of the day, just do whatever you want to do — just do you.”

GQ just discovered men wear makeup

NEW YORK– GQ, the men’s style authority providing advice to men for more than 62-years has finally discovered that men wear makeup.

In the outlet’s November “The New Masculinity Issue,” dedicated to men across the masculinity spectrum, GQ attempts to highlight what they believe to be 21st-century trends surrounding masculinity (Editor’s note: David Yi, Very Good Light’s editor-in-chief, was interviewed for GQ’s November issue but his interview was omitted).

“We’re not attempting to be comprehensive on the subject of masculinity or offering a strict how-to for being a better man,” admits GQ‘s editor-in-chief Will Welch. “Instead, this issue is an exploration of the ways that traditional notions of masculinity are being challenged, shifted, and overturned.”

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@Pharrell covers GQ's New Masculinity issue, an exploration of identity, culture, and style in 2019. Read the cover story and see all the photos at the link in bio. Photographed by @micaiahcarter, styled by @mobolajidawodu.

A post shared by GQ (@gq) on Oct 14, 2019 at 5:00am PDT

At face value, this is powerful. For GQ, a publication that has been a major voice of hypermasculinity, promoting overt machismo, sexism, and chauvinism, throughout its history, it’s as if in this singular issue, they’re looking to right some of the cultural wrongs they’ve had a hand in creating via toxic masculinity.

But considering that GQ, and its parent company Conde Nast, are for-profit businesses, the intentions seem less altruistic and more like a capitalistic proposition.

Very Good Light understands that younger consumers are no longer responding to masculinity in the ways of generations past; masculinity is on its way to change for good. Titan brands like Gillette are asking for men to change in a bold way. Pop culture figures like the cast of “Queer Eye,” Billy Porter, Harry Styles, and BTS are showcasing different sides of masculinity.

[Makeup] isn’t just drag, it isn’t solely for women, it isn’t an act of “bravery.” Many people aren’t even using it to stand out; they’re using it to blend in.

According to Allied Market Research, men’s makeup is now purported to be a multi-billion dollar industry, expected to hit $166 billion in 2022. We’re also seeing the next generation of consumers becoming more interested in gender-neutral beauty products to serve their own blurring sexuality and gender identities. To stay afloat and become relevant, GQ seems to have found itself in a quandary. Do they pivot into what culture has become, while perhaps alienating their current readers, or do they remain the same and become forgotten?

“To millions of men, skincare and cosmetics is an everyday part of their life. It isn’t drag, it isn’t for women, it isn’t an act of bravery.”

Insiders tell Very Good Light that in the months before publishing its current issue, GQ’s very own editor-in-chief was getting cold feet. The issue was supposed to hit newsstands for September, but according to sources, Will “wasn’t into this masculinity stuff.” The source says that the issue was being “dragged along” and that there was no enthusiasm within the top editors. It’s no surprise, as most who hold the keys to power at GQ are cisgender, straight men, viewing this movement of “new masculinity” through a very narrow lens. .

For instance, the headline of one article, “The Glorious Now of Men in Makeup,” is uncomfortably dated. The subhead doesn’t help, either: “One day we’ll look back on the era when makeup was only for women and think: Huh?”

Not only is GQ’s insistence on gendering makeup reductive and sexist, it fails to acknowledge the millions of men who already use makeup from the subtle – CC cream and shaded brows – to the full face beat, and everyone in between. For millions of men, skincare and cosmetics are already an everyday part of their lives.

It isn’t just drag, it isn’t solely for women, it isn’t an act of “bravery.” Many people aren’t even using it to stand out; they’re using it to blend in.

Like we’ve seen with the ways race and sexism have been treated recently, this “new” look at masculinity feels like a way for people in power to get credit for inclusivity without investing anything in the actual conversation.

Also, makeup never has been “only for women.” For centuries, men have beautified to amplify their power. Neanderthals ground up pyrite and seashells to make a kind of glitter back in 50,000 B.C. Vikings, some of the original beauty boys, carried grooming kits with them wherever they traveled. In 1250 B.C., Egyptian pharaohs used kohl eyeliner in golds, blacks and emeralds to exert their power. Alexander the Great wore blush and nail polish before battle. A Korean assassin clan, known as the Hwarang from the sixth-century Silla dynasty, were chosen for their beauty and used colored cosmetics as a spiritual practice. The list goes on and on and on. So, to casually relegate makeup to a gendered frivolity is not only misleading, it’s just plain wrong.

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One day we'll look back on the era when makeup was only for women and think: Huh? Here we gathered seven fearless actors, musicians, and models to embrace the glorious now of male beauty. See more at the link in bio. (📸@donnatrope, styled by @mobolajidawodu)

A post shared by GQ (@gq) on Oct 17, 2019 at 7:00am PDT

Mainstream media outlets like GQ seem to be capitalizing on a trend and proclaiming it new just because they’ve only now gotten the courage to cover it. Like we’ve seen with the ways race and sexism have been treated recently, this “new” look at masculinity feels like a way for people in power to get credit for inclusivity without investing anything in the actual conversation. And it’s nothing new in the beauty and fashion worlds: taking steps to woo a new demographic of consumers (or at least signal to them that they are aware they exist) without offering a seat at the table to the people they are hoping will pay up.

It’s Columbusing at its finest: “discovering” us beauty boys without inviting any of us to participate in the conversation.

It’s clear that in publishing this issue, and this “male makeup” piece specifically, GQ was hoping to make the least possible effort in order to reap the greatest possible return: cultural credibility. They want this story to go viral, to add it to their catalogue of ways that this era of GQ is “new,” but they don’t actually seem to care about the realities of boy beauty. They’ve taken no risks.

Rock icon Billy Idol has been wearing makeup since the 1970s. Nothing new there. Luka Sabbat, one of the token GQ “cool guys” of the moment, had a Milk Makeup contract last year. Jackson Wang is possibly the least makeup-forward of all the K-Pop stars, and, even so, makeup for men is quite common in Korea. Also his proclamation that “a neutral colored tinted balm is really comfortable to wear” is far from revolutionary or revelatory.

The point of this story seems to be more about the talent that GQ was able to convince to wear makeup, than the makeup itself. Where are the real beauty boys, the ones who wear makeup every day? Where are the revolutionary male beauty YouTubers, some of whom have been forging their way for almost a decade or more? Where are the nonbinary and transgender folks who use makeup to help them move through the world and form their identity? Where are the real men who study makeup tutorials at home, just to learn how to cover up their acne? Or the guys who wear makeup as armor or a means of empowerment?

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It's great to see men's makeup and masculinity now becoming mass and I applaud @gq and @willwelch for dedicating an issue to it. But for someone who's been working so hard for this and championing men's makeup with @verygoodlight for three entire years, this feels a little bit uncomfortable. It’s worse because GQ interviewed me for this package for 2 hours and then cut me last minute. It all feels very off. ⁣⁣ As a creative, it feels as if GQ is reaping the benefits of all the hard work we, collectively, as a readership, writers, editors and movement have done for so long. ⁣⁣It’s what we call ERASURE. ⁣⁣ More so, it's curious to see that these editors are using almost the exact same language in interviews that I have been saying for the past three years. ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ Back then, it was a struggle to get support for a site like @verygoodlight. For one, no one really understood WHY we needed to redefine masculinity. Men's makeup was also a sore subject for most, as they thought it was only for a very niche audience (aka queer). And so it gives me mixed feelings when a mass publication like GQ tries to valiantly come and declare men's makeup as some new trend, or to dedicate an entire issue to "New Masculinity." ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ Because for millions of men, we've been practicing beautifying – for centuries. We've been this "new definition" of masculinity since our births. For GQ to not even acknowledge us – beauty boys – or even give a nod to our work at Very Good Light seems wrong. Here's to continuing to be WHO WE WANT TO BE. We didn't need GQ to give us permission to beautify. To be soft. To empower ourselves with makeup. We BEEN HERE.

A post shared by David Yi 이준영 (@seoulcialite) on Oct 17, 2019 at 10:05am PDT

While it’s clear GQ is evolving, this story (and the issue as a whole) doesn’t cut it because it isn’t authentic. It still reads as masculinity through the eyes of straight, cisgender white men who view makeup as feminine, beauty products as women-exclusive, and cosmetics appropriate only for over-the-top editorial campaigns.

It’s Columbusing at its finest: “discovering” us beauty boys without inviting any of us to participate in the conversation – going so far as to erase us completely.

But we don’t need GQ and its narrow-minded editors to give us permission to partake in beauty. We didn’t ask for them to write up a “Masculinity Issue” to make themselves feel relevant. We didn’t need another lazy beauty spread of garish, made-up men.

Because for millions of people out there, this as been their reality for years. What we need is a place to share our real stories, where we can feel heard and supported. Where our habits, our interests, and our passions aren’t appropriated. This is not it.

GQ, do better.

-Editors of Very Good Light

(Photo by Donna Trope, Courtesy GQ/ Conde Nast)

Why I still silently panic when I have to take off my shirt

When I was younger, I’d run past foggy mirrors before I made my way into the shower.

It wasn’t that I was afraid of what I’d see, it’s what I’d be reaffirmed with. That I was chubby, had what my sister said were “moobs” and a body that was far from what other boys in middle school seemed to have: a chiseled, if not scrawny, rib-bearing figure. That I was less of a man.

It was worse during the summer months when my family would drag me to a pool or three, or to the dreaded beach. Living in California, we’d trek to Santa Monica or Venice Beach and lay out our umbrellas, beach towels and lay out like beached whales. While my family would derobe, sister in her bikini, mother in her onesuit and dad in his swim trunks, I’d excuse myself to find a bathroom. It was not only to hide my body from the world, but to stall, passing time so that I wouldn’t need to peel my shirt off. When I’d finally return, midday, my family asking where I’d been and me telling them some story about how I got lost, it’d be time to leave.

Such insecurities followed me to college. My body wasn’t as soft as it was in my middle school years, and testosterone allowed my body to become more trim, my shoulders to grow out and make my chest less pudgy. Less ugly. It’s almost as if my body itself felt shamed, proceeding to burn off every fat cell as if scorched Earth. But it was there that I found myself still running into the shower, past the mirror, and turning around to quickly throw on a shirt when my roommate was around.

“While women have progressed under our patriarchy to find empowerment with who they are – and to love every square inch of themselves – men are behind.”

This phobia followed me in my first sexual encounter. It was with a bouncer I’d met online who came over my apartment. I was now a junior, and late to bloom. We’d had extreme chemistry and proceeded to makeout. He was on top of me and I felt his jeans become a little more stiff. When he started to kiss my neck he proceeded to unzip my pants and made his hands under my shirt. That’s when I panicked. He could take off my underwear, see me in my glory, but when it came to my shirt, that was another story. I stopped him there and asked if I could keep my shirt on, ruining the mood entirely.

I realized a few years ago how this was rooted in shame. Rarely are we as men allowed to be ashamed or experience body dysmorphia – at least, not in public. We are told to toughen up and told that men aren’t supposed to care about such things. Those are relegated “to the girls.” As men, we bear the burden of suffering in silence, hold our hands over our fatty nipples and suck in our stomachs so that no one else would see how jiggly we are. With this comes creative ways of getting around taking off our damned shirts.

Though I’m admitting this for the first time, I’m not alone. In an Instagram world where our “suggested posts” are filled with beautiful men and their Apollo-like torsos, where dating apps show off bodies on first swipe, where definitions of masculinity are based on brawn and muscle, it’s difficult not to feel bad about your own. This, especially true for men who’ve been conditioned not to care about these such issues. While women have progressed under our patriarchy to find empowerment with who they are – and to love every square inch of themselves – men have been left behind. We’re told that we need to have everything figured out, or not to have such insecurities as if it’s effeminate, therefore despicable. And if we didn’t like our bodies, we could change it or shut up.

As men, we bear the burden of suffering in silence, hold our hands over our fatty nipples and suck in our stomachs so that no one else would see how jiggly we are.

It’s taken years for me to unpack all of my trauma but I’m finally at a place where I can let go and be proud of who I am – bare chested and all. Through it all, I’ve understood that I’m good enough. I’m beautiful how I am. I’m as masculine as I want to be – with a shirt or without.

The other day, I walked to Central Park in New York City and while on a jog, stopped and decided to take off my shirt. It’d been the first time, well, ever. The weather had been extremely muggy to the point where you grab moisture in your hands.

Hesitating just a little, I pulled my tank from the bottom, took it past my furry belly button over my chest and past my ears. Funny thing is that when that happened, the world didn’t stop. No one gave me a second look (though there was a woman who checked me out, and I blushed), really, no one cared. It was liberating as it gave me a sudden thrill. Peeling back my shirt – and more so, my shame – made me realize just how far I’d come.

I took a shower when I returned to my Brooklyn apartment. While the water was running, I lept past the mirror into the tub. But this time, I was aware of my conditioning and forced my soaked body to walk out, gaze at the mirror and look at my reflection. There, staring in front of me was a beautiful man, his fur drenched, the curves of his body weathered with time. He smiled. It was the first time in years that he’d seen himself.

Why male survivors of rape and sexual assault suffer in silence

Trigger warning: Please be mindful that the following article contains content surrounding rape and sexual violence.

When Kyle Walker was raped at 18-years old, he decided he’d keep the clothes he wore that night.

Just in case he ever needed it for proof. In the feint chance that one day he’d build up the courage to find justice. And so he hid the bag in the trunk of his car.

It was six months after the attack that he went to the sheriff’s office in his small town in Kentucky. Bag in hand, he was determined to file a report against his alleged assailant, a beloved doctor who so happened to work at the local hospital.

Facing detectives, Kyle was told he’d waited too long and that they couldn’t trust that the clothes weren’t being used as a set-up. There was nothing they could do for him. In addition to the detectives’ predisposition in believing in the innocence of his accused rapist, they were also “really uncomfortable” with that fact that the rape victim in question was male. “They didn’t know how to handle that,” he tells Very Good Light.

“I looked so bruised and broken, and shattered. I literally felt like my body shattered all over the floor.”

While men are less likely to talk about or report sexual assault, it’s common. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, one in six men have been sexually assaulted or abused. Since women are statistically more likely to be victims, the conversation surrounding sexual abuse is female-centric and resources geared towards male survivors are limited. There are also the stigmas associated with being a male survivor, which forces many men to struggle with recovery and identity in distinct ways. This makes their voices and stories all the more important in the narrative surrounding rape and sexual assault altogether.

‘It completely blindsided me’

Today, Kyle is a 22-year-old bartender and server happily living in Chicago with his partner. But it was just four years ago that he went on the date that changed his life.

“It was actually the second date,” he remembers. “I thought things were going pretty well. I was at his house watching TV and cooking dinner. It was pretty relaxed.”

When Kyle arrived for dinner, his date was already drunk and as the night went on he got increasingly adamant about wanting him to stay the night. When Kyle refused, his date went into a violent rage.

“I got my shoes on and I was pulling my hoodie over my head,” he says over the phone. “That’s when I was grabbed from behind. He put a rag over my nose.”

Drugged with what Kyle assumes was chloroform, he passed out. Throughout his alleged assault, he regained consciousness three times to bear witness to his rape. “He kept putting the rag back over my face and when I finally woke up, it was because he was drunk and passed out beside me.”

Like 80-percent of rape victims, as reported by the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, Kyle’s alleged perpetrator was someone he knew. “I honestly didn’t see it coming at all,” he says. “We went on one date in public, and I felt more secure in going back to his house on the second date, which was a week later. It completely blindsided me.”

When Kyle finally regained consciousness and his alleged abuser was passed out, he went to the bathroom trying to figure out what happened to him. “I looked up and saw this monster looking back at me in the mirror. I looked so bruised and broken, and shattered. I literally felt like my body shattered all over the floor.” As quietly as possible, he collected his belongings, and drove away.

This image of a broken man in the mirror is a far cry from the person he is now, sharing his story with courage and conviction. A month prior to his assault, he’d been kicked out of his home for being gay. He was finishing up high school, living in his own apartment and supporting himself as a manager at a fast food restaurant. Without support and feeling completely alone, the recovery process for Kyle wasn’t easy.

“It took me the longest time to even look at myself in the mirror [again],” he tells Very Good Light. “I was so perplexed when I saw the bruises and the scratches and the chemical burns that were on my face. When it happened, I took down the mirrors in my bathroom and my room. I just really struggled to even look at myself and be comfortable in my skin.”

In fact, it would take him six months before he could even admit to himself what happened.

‘Honey, you’re a guy, you can’t get raped’

When he finally felt brave enough to report the alleged assault, he was met with disdain.

“It was really demeaning,” he recalls. “Even my girlfriends were like, ‘Honey, you’re a guy, you can’t get raped.’ What does that mean? Everybody can be raped. Males can be raped by females. It’s not just a gay thing. It’s the fact that a man can be raped and it happens every day.”

It’s this experience – of feeling unheard – that ultimately pushed Kyle towards advocacy.

“In Kentucky, being gay wasn’t well accepted, and neither was me speaking out about my abuse.”

Even in the face of threats from his accused rapist, Kyle persevered. “I was told to quit talking about it; to quit running my mouth or I’ll get a slander charge against me. That was my breaking point. I was tired of being quiet because I’m not a quiet person.”

‘I didn’t identify what was going on as sexual abuse’

Much like Kyle, Nate Postlethwait’s acceptance was the first step to recovery. At 41-years old, he’s still processing the sexual abuse he endured as a child.

“There’s such a disconnect between trauma when you’re a child,” says Nate to us. “I believed on some level that what happened was not abuse.”

He was just 5-years old the first time he was assaulted by an alleged abuser 24-years his senior, with the assaults continuing for years.

“I had this default to shame,” he says. “My abuser would constantly tell me that he wants to do these things, and that I seem to enjoy them. He would use the situation to make sure I felt responsible for everything that was going on.”

When it comes to sexual trauma, gendered notions about masculinity also contribute to a potentially unwelcoming environment for male survivors who might need help.

It worked, because Nate still didn’t identify his own situation as abuse, even when he was old enough to comprehend what the word meant. That disconnect defined a good deal of his life.

“It trapped me for all of my 20’s,” he says. “I didn’t have the appropriate help for the first decade, so I wasn’t actually addressing the trauma.”

His experience and shame weighed down on him until he finally got the therapy he needed in his early 30’s.

“When I was going through my darkest hours of processing all the pain, I just felt incredibly alone,” he says. “I walked around thinking there’s this world of whole, pure, clean people and I was just one of the lower-level humans because I have this story and this thing about me that really brings a darkness to life.”

As he’s healed, Nate has dedicated his life to helping other people heal, too. He quit his career in real estate to start a blog and podcast called The Other Side of Saved, which provides a community for survivors to tell their stories. He’s come to recognize that as a male survivor, living his truth and sharing his experiences helps combat stigmas and allows other men to do the same. To him, that is the essence of recovery: “Living out in full transparency and authenticity, while owning the story and not having shame attached to it.”

Healing and recovery isn’t one-size-fits-all

While therapy is a potential route for survivors to seek as they look to work through their recovery, some men simply don’t feel comfortable going.

“Research shows that two-thirds of outpatient appointments in therapy are for women while one-third are for males,” says Dr. Jessica Pae, a Colorado-based licensed psychologist.

“Although men struggle with mental health problems, they are less likely to receive help.”

“The fundamentals of therapy follow more stereotypical feminine values,” adds Rick Goodwin, founder and Clinical Services Director of Men and Healing, a Canadian agency that provides a male-centered approach to therapy. “We expect people to be vulnerable and disclose personal experience, and articulate feelings. For those reasons, we don’t see lots of guys in treatment.”

“Most centers are ill-equipped to deal with male survivors.”

When it comes to sexual trauma, gendered notions about masculinity also contribute to a potentially unwelcoming environment for male survivors who might need help.

“The explicit messaging from sexual assault and rape centers is that women are the victims and men are the perpetrators,” says Goodwin. “Stereotypically, people think of offenders as male, and as a culture, we have a feminization of victimhood.”

Goodwin also says that stereotypical representations of masculinity boil down to being invulnerable, and if you’re invulnerable then you can’t experience victimization.

“That is the crux of the issue, and it doesn’t allow men to speak of their experiences because it doesn’t fit with our expectations of them.”

For men of color, the lack of access to resources and adequate help is exacerbated.

“There are less resources for minority patients, as well as more stigma around mental health issues,” says Dr. Pae, who explains that research has shown that if there is an ethnic match between patients and providers (both minorities), then the treatment outcomes are significantly better.

The issue, however, is that there aren’t many providers of color, meaning that “patients can experience microaggressions from white providers, which causes them to not engage in therapy or leave therapy before they’re ready,” she says.

Since men are less likely to share their stories of assault and abuse due to gender barriers, most centers are ill-equipped to deal with male survivors, which is what Kyle says he experienced.

“The centers in Kentucky aren’t welcoming of male assault victims because they haven’t had one,” he says.

He says that the center he visited catered to women and children, and he was told that he couldn’t do group therapy because the women seeking help weren’t comfortable being around men. He was understanding of that, and decided to try one-on-one therapy, but that didn’t go well either.

“Instead of treating me like a woman, they treated me like a child,” he explains. “They tried giving me coloring books to color and express my feelings.” It wasn’t until he moved away that he was able to get any adequate sort of treatment.

Both Goodwin and Dr. Pae agree that treatment and healing are individualized, with recovery being the end goal. According to Goodwin, the process has two components: recognizing that there can be absence of symptoms, such as depression, anxiety, insomnia, or emotional rage and working to find the authentic self. “It’s much deeper than just symptom recovery. It’s up to the individual what they want to shoot for,” he says.

Speaking up makes a difference

After their alleged assaults, both Kyle and Nate are authentically living their lives and sharing their stories free of shame. They’ve both experienced firsthand how being open about their truths pushes other men to feel comfortable to do the same.

Despite the challenges facing male survivors, Nate is hopeful of the progress. Compared to 23-years ago when he first started therapy, there are so many more resources and conversation around it. For him, movies like Spotlight and men, like actor Terry Crews, speaking out about their assault shows that these issues are becoming a part of the conversation.

“It’s really bringing a lot of light and validity to what we’re talking about,” Nate says. “It’s forcing the psychiatric community to get educated quickly to know how to address these things.”

If you have been a victim of sexual assault, know that there are resources for you. The Rape, abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN) operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline (800.656.HOPE) and partners with thousands of sexual assault service providers across the country.

These leading Hollywood stars are changing the face of Asian America

LOS ANGELES – “I love being Asian,” says the teen actor, Dallas Liu, at our photoshoot in Echo Park.

It’s a Thursday afternoon and a dozen Asian Americans are gathered on a rooftop to commemorate May’s Asian Pacific American Heritage Month for Very Good Light‘s Asians in Hollywood cover stars. We’re highlighting six rising Asian American stars who are changing perceptions and visibility around Asian America. Each is diverse as they are beautiful, bringing their own flavor to tinseltown. In their own powerful ways, each is leading the charge when it comes to representation onscreen – and off – in Hollywood, an industry that has traditionally closed its doors on those who’ve looked like them.

But things are changing. It’s a golden time for diversity and Asians seem to finally be breaking through.

It means something to see oneself onscreen and have their experiences validated. This, especially when it comes to marginalized or disenfranchised communities who’ve rarely seen their stories represented in pop culture. Representation is vital to a person’s lived experience, psyche, and self-worth. When one can share culture with someone onscreen, it makes them feel as if they, too, belong. Historically, it’s long been a pain point for Asian Americans to have not only a lack of portrayals onscreen but to see themselves painted in a negative light when they do.

After all, Asian Americans, especially men, have long been depicted as emasculated, asexual or lampooned foreign caricatures. There’s been a clear message when it comes to Hollywood: Asians are the “other.” It’s impossible to sift through Hollywood history without coming across films that have degraded Asians. Women are hypersexualized and dangerously fetishized while men are the opposite. The latter comes in the form of stereotypical characters like Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles or Mickey Rooney’s yellow face in Breakfast At Tiffany’s.

Such racist portrayals are still alive and well today, with media taking cheap shots at Asian American male masculinity or poking fun at how undesirable they are. This has trickled into the small towns across the country to big cities, where these stereotypes are weaponized to the detriments of so many Asian Americans. But this idea of the “unsexy Asian male” didn’t happen overnight.

“We’ve been here.”

For that, we look back at American history, which created a direct campaign to neuter Asian American male identity. This is called Yellow Peril (also known as Yellow Terror), an existential psycho-cultural fear that the Eastern World would takeover the Western predominantly white culture. It’s the xenophobic idea that white colonialism and power would somehow be trumped by the influx of Asians – specifically men and their rise in the United States.

This fear of mixing cultures, or having white American women fall for Asian men – aka interracial sexual intercourse that could “dilute whiteness” – led to America’s direct campaign against Asian masculinity. This painted Asian men as dangerous, sexless, emasculated and neutered while hyper-sexualizing Asian women. These propaganda films came in the form of 1915’s The Cheat, which tells the story of a Japanese American as a sexual predator and rapist, 1932’s Shanghai Express, which portrays a Chinese American lead as an asexual man, to a television series with an Asian villain named Fu Man Chu, the evil Chinese doctor with the comical facial hair. While these portrayals are laughable, the propaganda has been extremely successful – in 2019, Asian men are still perceived in these ways.

And it has real repercussions.

While culture may be shifting, Yellow Peril still colors our collective American lens. In our present day, this comes in the form of Asian American men being perceived as unattractive, unsexy, weak or invisible – all, of course, internalized, “learned” racism. In a study by OKCupid, Asian American men (along with African American women) were less likely to be “Swiped right” or messaged than any other demographic. It’s this idea of being “least desirable,” this propaganda of Asian American males as asexual that has had major psychological and emotional impact on the way these men perceive themselves.

In an article by Psychology Today, this leads Asian American men to have either a lower sense of self-worth. It leads to self-harm or harm to others. Alternatively, this also does the opposite effect, creating hyper-masculine qualities within this group as a form of overcompensation. One only needs to look at incel culture to see how devastating this effect can be. It doesn’t help that according to this 2011 study from the National Institute for Mental Health, Asian Americans are less likely to reach out for help all other ethnic groups. “Only 17% of all Asian Americans have sought professional help, and only 6% sought this help from a mental health provider,” the article explains.

It means something to see yourself onscreen and have your experiences validated.

But tides are shifting and Asians are not only reclaiming their space, they’re rewriting history. This, thanks to mega successful films like Crazy Rich Asians directed by Jon Chu, which cast sexy Asian leads in a compelling story that eventually set box office records. The film Searching, starring John Cho, was another hit, proving that success when it comes to Asian American leads, wasn’t a fluke. Recent films like the Netflix hit, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before and The Sun is Also A Star are showing that Asian leads are bankable.

Their success led to the greenlighting of upcoming films from the likes of Marvel, which is developing its first all-Asian American action movie to television shows with networks like NBC and HBO, developing Asian American-centric shows. No wonder then, that it’s an era that Variety calls a “Golden Time for Diversity.” Movie-goers are demanding that they seem themselves, especially Asian and Latinx consumers. According to a report from the Motion Picture Association of America, Latinx and Asian communities had the highest rates of moviegoing in the United States.

But with success come skepticism. For all Asian Americans have done in their fight for representation, comes an uphill battle with critics saying that this “golden era” for Asian Americans could be none but a trend. Though, whether or not Hollywood comes to accept Asians is irrelevant.

We didn’t need Variety to call our collective Asian American experience compelling. We didn’t need Hollywood or the rest of the world to discover us. We didn’t need mass culture to deem us cool.

We’ve been here.

To celebrate us, Very Good Light is launching #unabashedlyAsian, an initiative that promotes pride in our Asian American culture. Our six cover stories are examples of how diverse, beautiful, powerful – and unabashedly Asian – we have always been. This sentiment is personified by the likes of these six actors making strides in Hollywood.

Without further ado, read about our six separate cover stars by clicking on them below:

Jake Choi

The Queens-native is now seen regularly on ABC’s “Single Parents,” portraying a non-stereotypically Asian character who’s loveably clueless.

Chester Lockhart

The gender-nonconforming actor/performer/dancer/artist/stylist and more … just starred in the CW’s powerful pilot, “Glamorous.” Their career is just getting started.

Ritesh Rajan

The handsome Indian American actor, made a huge splash on Netflix’s hit series, “Russian Doll.”

Hayden Szeto

The Canadian actor in the upcoming Alan Yang film, Tigertail, proves that a Chinese Canadian man can become the new American boy next door.

Joel Kim Booster

The queer comedian is redefining what funny can look like from a bold Asian voice with humor that’s provocative as it is sexy. He’ll further prove his acting talents starring in NBC’s upcoming comedy, “Sunnyside.”

Dallas Liu

The Gen Z star, who made his unforgettable debut in the uproarious Hulu show, “PEN15,” is the future of Asian America.

Styling credits: Dallas Liu: Shirt by HUF; Jeans by Levi’s; Joel Kim Booster: Full look by Lacoste; Tank by Hanes; Jake Choi: tank by Hanes; Jeans by FRAME; Hayden Szeto: Full look by FRAME; Chester Lockhart: Jean Jacket by Dim Mak; Shirt by COACH; Jeans, Chester’s own; Ritesh Rajan: demin jacket by Zara; denim by H&M

Photographer: Jessica Chou Assisted by: Se Collier Editor: David Yi Stylist: Christopher Kim Producer: Akemi Look Assistant Director: Tara Aquino Makeup artist: Christina Roberson Hairstylist: Joelis Vallejo

Hayden Szeto's Asian Americans in Hollywood 2019 cover story: Redefining the new leading man

These leading Hollywood stars are changing the face of Asian America

Jake Choi’s Asian Americans in Hollywood 2019 cover story: ‘Being Asian is spectacular’

Dallas Liu’s Asian Americans in Hollywood 2019 cover story: ‘For my generation, being Asian is really cool.’

Chester Lockhart’s Asian Americans in Hollywood 2019 cover story: ‘It took a while for me to accept myself.’

The best makeup brands if you’re really into fragile masculinity

Sometimes all you need are some cracks in your foundation, creases under your concealer and makeup so brittle it exposes just how fragile you and your masculinity are.

So says a few new men’s makeup brands that have been born in the past few months. Apparently, there’s a huge demand for men and their masculinity that’s as fragile as a glazed, fruity tart. Why use Fenty Beauty, IT Cosmetics, Milk Makeup or Glossier when you have men’s brands that ensure men understand their place in this world?

These men’s products can be for you if:

-You grow beards and need the world to know you grow beards

-Drink whiskey at bars without straws

-Need a shower loofah that’s gray, black or dark blue

-Are obsessed with 3-in-1 “grooming” product

-Are terrified by the color pink

-Can’t be seen buying tampons for a loved one under any circumstance

Still on the fence and wondering if you need cosmetics products that celebrate fragile masculinity? No worries. We rounded up the best for you. From a brand that touts the need to be “discreet,” a brand that’s marketed as “war paint” to signal that it’s truly for macho manly men, and one that literally has the name “men” in it to ensure that you aren’t confused by who it’s for, here are the best brands for you, your manhood, and of course, your beard – yes, we noticed you had one.

STRYX

If there was fragile masculinity in a stick, it’d certainly be STRYX. This brand is named after a really fierce and totally straight animal called an owl, and it’s really great if you’re looking for a product that will remind you that you’re still a guy. In fact, STRYX wants to put your mind at ease so that no one – not even you – will question yourself and your manhood if you use makeup. Call it confidence in a stick or purely a tool to make you recall yours, this is a true winner!

On its sleek site, STRYX writes this description: “Stryx is rethinking the meaning of men’s [INSERT QUOTATION MARK HERE] cosmetics[INSERT QUOTATION MARK HERE] products. We engineer discreet products uniquely for men, we engineer discreet products uniquely for men, so that men can easily and comfortably look their best.”

The brand offers two products: a concealer tool ($29) and tinted moisturizer ($29). Each comes in three amazingly diverse shades. They range from a color called “Light Cognac,” “Medium Mahogany” and “Dark Eclipse” – all shades that are moody and manly and not feminine and not like, having to do with women.

After all, the brand says, it’s seriously NOT FOR WOMEN. “We didn’t just take a product made for women and slap a ‘For Men’ label on it,” STRYX says on its site. The brand goes so far as to ensure you know that it’s ~MaScULiNE~ by explaining that its metal material is used on race car engines! “All integral components are crafted from an industry-first proprietary metal material commonly used in race car engines due to its strength and temperature resilience.”

If you didn’t notice by now, STRYX, the owl, is seriously “makeup” but “for men” and made from “race car.” That’s seriously a hoot!

BUY HERE, $29

WAR PAINT

Stop what you’re doing, do 20 pushups and think: WWKDD (What Would Khal Drogo Do)? Would he wear makeup? Hell yeah! Would he call it makeup? Hell no!

Yep, this isn’t makeup, my friend. It’s WAR PAINT. Life is a war, right? So paint up your face so that you can face the day. It’s nuts out there!

If you’re looking for an amazing makeup brand that isn’t actually called makeup, look no further than this one called War Paint.

“Many people believe all skin is the same, however, men and women’s skin are very much different,” the brand explains on its site. “The difference in men’s skin to woman’s skin is caused by hormones, specifically testosterone. Androgens such as testosterone affect the thickness of the skin and how much sebum their skin’s sebaceous glands produce. Seeing as men have a whole shedload of testosterone, their skin is both thicker and oilier than women’s.”

Got it? You can’t use women’s products because men make more oil and our skin is thicker! In any case, if you need any more convincing, try this product because it has range. The concealer comes in Fair, Light and Tan! The bronzer is in one shade! The tinted moisturizer comes in FIVE shades from Fair, Light, Tan, Medium and Dark. That’s pretty inclusive. Don’t know your shade? No problem! The site has a very robust offering of discovering what’s your shade? Find your shade, throw some shade. Whatever the case, it’s really crazy out there – don’t forget your WAR PAINT!

BUY HERE (prices range from 18-22 British Pounds)

Menaji

Heard of Nicki Minaj but not Menaji? The former is a world star. The latter wants to be. The former has fans and the latter does too! Both are pretty much a little similar only the fact that they’re pronounced in the same way except the former has one more syllable.

Menaji has been around for years and though it has yet to see its shine, it does do a good job covering it. The OG men’s makeup brand isn’t makeup at all, rather, “corrective cosmetics.” As per the site, “We focus on combining natural ingredients to make corrective cosmetics and skincare for men.” Our favorite product? The Men’s CAMO concealer! Called URBAN CAMOUFLAGE it’s “your secret weapon.”

What we love most about this OG brand is that the packaging is really unremarkable in the best way. Meaning, it looks like lip balm, makes other guys think that it’s just for your lips and not for anything else and that means the secret is really safe … until they Google what Menaji actually is. Shit.

BUY HERE

A message to the beauty industry: Black boys aren’t going anywhere

Since the rise of male makeup gurus on social media, seeing men in beauty campaigns is no longer a rarity.

Morphe tapped Jeffree Star and James Charles for collections, Manny MUA starred in a Maybelline campaign, MAC’s new “it” star is Patrick Starrr, Bretman Rock joined forces with ColourPop and Gabriel Zamora is a spokesperson for ipsy. But, while brands are welcoming plenty of men – and even men of color like Gabriel, Bretman, Patrick and Manny – in their makeup campaigns, black men seem to be missing from this new landscape.

Arguably, being a black influencer of any kind comes with challenges, but being a gay black man working in an industry that constantly fails to be wholly inclusive is an uphill battle of its own.

Take Kameron Lester (@kam_lester), for instance. He’s an L.A.-based beauty influencer with nearly 25,000 followers on Instagram and more than 40,000 subscribers on YouTube, but despite his talent and healthy following, Kameron tells Very Good Light that he feels invisible within the larger industry.

“(Companies) don’t bother looking at you or supporting you. They just look past you,” he says of the imbalance between black and white beauty influencers. “It’s harder to get recognition from big brands being a smaller black talent. As black talent you grow a little bit slower and it’s harder to get recognized.”

According to Ernest B. James, founder of Noire Management, which exclusively manages black influencers, brands are hesitant to “pay what the influencer is worth.” In fact, in Ernest’s experience working with influencers and brands, though it wasn’t confirmed, “influencers of color are regarded best for gifting or lower rates.” If brands want to be inclusive, he adds, they have to be willing to pay.

The struggle to be acknowledged extends beyond getting paid. Kaliff Jones (@makeup.messiah), 21, says that people of color have to work ten times harder than other influencers for a brand to like or repost a photo.

L.A. influencer Victor Ramos (@vicmram), 22, who was featured in a Make Up For Ever Campaign, says the industry’s exclusion of people who look like him is obvious.

“There’s tons of brands that know who I am,” he says. “There’s tons of brands that are fully aware that I and other people exist, but they still don’t invite (black) influencers to events. People are so conditioned into thinking that black influencers don’t bring in the same amount of dollars.”

THIS IS NOT A DRILL 🗣 the darkest shade in our new Born This Way expansion is sold out🙌🏾 https://t.co/u7GqjCxCeu

— Naira Banks (@jackieaina) June 29, 2018

Inclusive brands achieving sold-out status proves black faces do sell

This notion that black faces don’t sell isn’t new, of course. Former Vogue UK editor-in-chief Alexandra Shulman told The Guardian in 2017, after standing down from her position, that her “chief remit was not to show ethnic diversity as a policy.” In other words, putting black faces on her covers meant “you would sell fewer copies. It’s as simple as that.”

But launches like Fenty Beauty’s stunning, inclusive foundation range and Jackie Aina’s (@jackie_aina) Born this Way x Too Faced Cosmetics collaboration – both quickly achieving sold-out status – prove Alexandra’s assumptions wrong. Black people want to see themselves and they will pay.

“I see brands make excuses such as, ‘Oh, no one would buy this,’ or ‘That’s not our audience,'” blogger Alissa Ashley (@alissa.ashley), who collaborated with NYX on an inclusive foundation line, told Refinery29 in 2018: “But when brands do provide these (darker) shades, most of them end up selling out.”

According to a 2018 Nielsen report, black consumers spend nine times more on beauty products annually than any other ethnic group. Cheryl Grace, Nielsen’s Senior Vice President of U.S. Strategic Community Alliances and Consumer Engagement commented in the report on the power of the black consumer: “Our research shows that Black consumer choices have a ‘cool factor’ that has created a halo effect, influencing not just consumers of color, but the mainstream as well.”

‘We’re conditioned to think that there’s only one spot for a black person’

Being overlooked and feeling undervalued has created an environment of tokenism and competition between black men in the influencer industry, says Victor. “I think that we’re just conditioned to think that there’s only one spot for a black person.”

Justin Marcus (@jay_lindoo), a 21-year-old influencer from New York City, agrees. “A lot of male influencers in the community don’t like to see others win. People will love you until they feel like you’re so successful they can’t reach you anymore, and start bashing you.”

Victor had a similar experience when an influencer with a large following “publicly told me they didn’t support me because I already got PR and went to events, but they were outwardly supporting huge white influencers who are damn well getting more than I am. It just goes to show how we pick and choose and put each other on a double standard.”

Though the feeling of competition can divide, coming together is more important, says Charlotte, N.C. influencer Tavaris Jefferson (@varijstylez), 24. “I wasn’t looking for people higher than me. I was looking for people around me who could build with me. We forget that there are other people around us that are in the same predicament we’re in. If we lift each other’s brand and build up, it’ll be a better look.”

And, throwing sexuality into the mix adds another dimension to black influencers’ fight to be seen. Despite the glam lives they promote on social media, being visibly queer can have repercussions.

Just existing as a gay black man can be life threatening, but wearing makeup pushes that even further

“Black men are fighting so many battles,” says Ernest. “Not only are they fighting people who see them just as black men and as a threat regardless, they’re also fighting their own people who don’t accept them because they’re gay and play in makeup. Within an already marginalized group, they’re marginalized even further.”

Dr. Pamela Valera, lead author of a study examining the relationship between police violence and media portrayals of black men, says that portraying black men in positive spaces can possibly banish negative stereotyping.

“We need to provide more positive spaces for people of color and for black men to be themselves and show all of themselves in a space that’s not going to assume they’re hypersexual or hypermasculine.”

The recent alleged hate crime against Empire star Jussie Smollett shows just how vulnerable gay black men remain in today’s society – even as they put on a brave face. “I’m always discriminated against in public – in or out of makeup – but I never let the negativity take over my mind,” says Kaliff, who lives in Mississippi. “I just smile and wave.”

But the beauty industry that has the ability to normalize portrayals of black men in cosmetics by utilizing the power of black beauty influencers to make cultural change.

Brands have the power to make the beauty industry a safe space for black men

“(Brands) definitely made it more of a safe space for me,” says Kenneth D. Senegal (@heflawless), an L.A.-based influencer featured on Fenty Beauty and MAC’s social channels, among others. “Brands have the power when it comes to making a space acceptable for a creator. The more they share my posts, the more it makes it acceptable to an audience in general.”

But, inclusivity must be authentic, says Kenneth. “You can always tell who’s being fake. If I was messy I would just name brands, girl.”

“You have these companies who never made shades for black people, and suddenly Fenty Beauty came out and it’s like ‘Oh we’re seeing how much money Fenty Beauty made with all these darker shades, let’s get on it and expand our brand,'” adds Markevious Harris (@poetic_drugs), a 21-year-old influencer from Lagrange, GA.

Tavaris agrees: “A lot of beauty brands think diversity is a trend, and think it’s cute to put darker complexions in a campaign for shits and giggles. It’s not funny. It’s pandering,” he says. “Work with more people of color, and don’t work with them by just sending them products. Work with them by asking, ‘What could I do to help make our brand more diverse? What could I do to make a product not so ashy or not so orange?’ I think brands need to take into consideration that in order to make a change, you need to talk to the people that are affected.”

Fortunately, black beauty boys aren’t waiting around for corporations to finally get “woke” and make sweeping change a priority. They are more than prepared to take on the industry and speak up for themselves and their community, says Kenneth.

“The world might not be ready for black boys to forefront makeup campaigns, but black boys are.”