Real men wear makeup: The rise of the ‘Beautiful Boy’ era

For James*, 25, a final-year student at the Singapore Management University, makeup isn’t about turning heads, but about feeling awake, polished, and confident in his own skin. 

On the streets, he could pass for any other 20-something Singaporean male: boxy shirts and baggy jeans, tousled hair, earbuds in. But step into his bathroom, and you’ll see something else: a neatly arranged row of concealers, color correctors, primers, and eyebrow pencils, tools of a simple, almost meditative routine.

“I use it daily if I’m going out,” he says, “just under my eyes with colour corrector and concealer, and a quick fill-in for my brows.” What started as a way to cover fatigue has become habit – costing him about $100–$200 a year on makeup, with skincare running roughly the same.

James eased into it gradually. When his eyebrow embroidery faded, a pencil became the easy fix; under-eye concealer helped mask the bags left by late nights of studying. 

“It makes me look more awake, more alive,” he explains. “Honestly, it’s just for myself – most people don’t even notice I’m wearing concealer.”

For him, makeup is self-care, rather than a challenge to his masculinity. “I just know I look and feel better using it,” he says. His influences aren’t singular idols but a broader cultural backdrop: “A lot of Korean idols and male models use makeup daily – even just for photoshoots – so knowing that helped me feel more comfortable with it.”

James’s routine may feel personal and unassuming, but it is part of a larger shift in male grooming culture – one that stretches far beyond Singapore’s shores. 

The K-pop catalyst

To understand this wider shift, we have to look at where the “beautiful boy” aesthetic really took off – and that is in Seoul.

In the world of BTS, EXO, Stray Kids and NCT, grooming is part of the performance. Perfect skin, carefully shaped brows, subtle makeup, polished styling has made the notion of ‘soft masculinity’ mainstream. 

Once considered subversive or tied to alternative scenes – think 2000s emo, bold eyeliner, and rage-against-the-machine-esque rebellion – this look is now aspirational.

It wasn’t always so. 

In the early 1990s, male performers wearing makeup faced social backlash and even governmental scrutiny, as with American-born K-pop pioneer Yang Joon-il, whose flamboyant style and stage makeup provoked hisses and boos. Later, bands like H.O.T., TVXQ!, and Rain navigated a still-conservative culture, gradually normalizing delicate features, dewy skin, and pastel hues among male idols. 

By the 2010s, male idols routinely wore makeup, and the government itself leveraged K-pop’s soft power to promote both culture and beauty exports, creating the global K-beauty wave we know today.

It’s also lucrative: many of these idols serve as global ambassadors for major makeup and skincare brands, from Givenchy, Tamburin to Nars.

The numbers show just how pervasive the trend has become. A 2025 survey by Korea’s Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism found that 17.8  per cent of people in 28 countries cited K‑pop as the first thing they associate with Korea – ahead of Korean cuisine and dramas. 

Meanwhile, the 2021 collaboration between BTS and McDonald’s – the “BTS Meal” – boosted the chain’s sales by 40.5  per cent that quarter. The purple-themed packaging became collectible enough to be resold on online marketplaces, a clear marker of how K-pop has seeped into global everyday consciousness.

Back in Singapore, the effects ripple outward. Shelves at Sephora and other beauty retailers show growing male participation in skincare and makeup. 

Influencers post GRWMs (“Get Ready With Me”) featuring brow pencils, concealer, skincare – tools once coded feminine, now unremarkable, or even a given. 

The “polished man” look is far from fringe, but now part of a grooming culture that says you can be masculine and cared‑for.

The paradox of the ‘pretty man’

However, what has changed isn’t masculinity itself – it’s how it’s performed. The rise of the “beautiful boy” hasn’t dismantled old gender norms but has repackaged them.

According to a 2023 study by Kyung Hee University, for many young men, makeup and meticulous grooming aren’t acts of rebellion but instruments of social leverage, tools to gain a competitive edge in an image-driven, status-conscious culture.

A well-groomed face has become shorthand for discipline, control, and success – the neoliberal markers of a “capable” man. In this logic, “good looks” function like “good grades”: a measurable sign of diligence and self-investment, rather than mere vanity. 

K-pop idols like G-Dragon, Hyunjin, Felix, and Bang Chan illustrate this duality, showing the same men with and without makeup. Their polished appearance is carefully curated, signaling competence as much as charisma.

Of course, it has also become natural, in some ways, that idols are held to extreme standards of conduct – public morality, social responsibility, and even personal relationships can become matters of scrutiny by media and fans alike. 

Missteps – whether perceived scandals or controversial campaigns – can generate intense backlash, as seen in the 2025 W Korea breast cancer event, criticised for a participation in spectacle over awareness.

The phenomenon reflects South Korea’s entrenched lookism culture, where appearance can affect employability, social capital, and even interpersonal relationships. Grooming and cosmetic use are less about liberation than negotiation, where men are performing a kind of aspirational masculinity that aligns with societal expectations while expanding the boundaries of acceptable self-presentation.

Really, the paradox is striking. Men are simultaneously freer to experiment with beauty and more constrained by its social logic. The “pretty man” is empowered, yes – but in a way that often reinforces existing hierarchies of appearance, competitiveness, and cultural capital.

A global spillover

Since this phenomena has taken root, the Korean model of meticulous masculinity has seeped far beyond Seoul, reshaping global ideas of male beauty and self-presentation. Western artists like Harry Styles, 5 Seconds of Summer, and Benson Boone have embraced fluid fashion, carefully curated grooming, and even makeup, signaling that masculinity can coexist with visible self-care and stylistic experimentation.

The result is a subtle but meaningful shift in the idea of ‘taking care of oneself’ – what was once coded feminine or subversive is now mainstream, a new visual language of masculinity. 

Yet it remains performative – a conscious cultivation of appearance that signals discipline, confidence, and cultural literacy. K-pop’s influence, while the starting point, has become part of a global conversation about how men inhabit and display masculinity in the 21st century.

The new face of power

When I first asked around for male peers who wore makeup regularly, one friend joked, “Unfortunately, I don’t have drag queen friends.” It was a casual reminder – male makeup is still considered niche, even if it’s more visible than ever.

Andrew*, 25, works in the education industry, and unlike James, his relationship with makeup has been more fraught – shaped by scrutiny, familial expectations, and the hyper-visible pressures of public perception. “I started experimenting with my sister’s makeup in secondary school,” he says, “but the first time I actually wore it on my face was for prom night. I was inspired by YouTube beauty influencers at the time, but it was also a little secret I had to keep from my mom.”

Now, Andrew wears makeup daily to work – foundation, concealer, and brows – relying on lightweight products like the Jungsaemool Essential Nuder Cushion to survive Singapore’s humidity. He spends little on makeup itself, but more on skincare, attending monthly K-skin facials to maintain a smooth canvas. 

For him, grooming is both practical and performative: it shields self-confidence during social interactions, adds polish to performances, and provides a measure of self-expression.

Yet unlike James, Andrew is acutely aware of the scrutiny male makeup attracts. “People will notice, and they’ll comment – every little thing,” he says. “Makeup is hyper-scrutinised on men, even more than on women, because it’s not supposed to exist in the first place. Ultra-natural makeup passes under the radar, but only if your skin is already good.”

Experts argue this tension is no accident. According to sociologists studying image-driven cultures, note that self-presentation – including grooming and makeup – is tightly bound to perceived competence, social capital, and competitiveness. 

Men today can express themselves more freely, but in exchange, their appearance is scrutinised, evaluated, and judged. 

The shape of eyeliner may have changed, but the story it tells – of power, perfection, and performance – remains familiar.

So, for now, real men wear makeup – because they are confident enough, or sometimes pressured enough, to navigate these visual codes. The question is: who are they really doing it for?

*Pseudonyms were used in this story.