body as “given,” but increasingly seen it as changeable (Davis, 1995). For example, in a recent interview with a major U.S. news corporation, a Senegalese woman said, “Women bleach their skin to come across as modern women who can modify their skin tone as they wish" (Barnier, 2009). The interviewee describes the connection between “modernity” and the use of cosmetics to alter the body. Her statement also reflects the notion that women make individual choices to suit their own aesthetic preferences. Sophisticated women can modify their skin tones “as they wish” (Barnier, 2009). The connection between modernity and body manipulation is distinctive from the centuries old trend of “decorating or ornamenting” the body, and is really about reshaping the body to present a new body as “natural.” In this way, the body is not adorned (through jewelry, painting, or scarring, for example), but is “recreated” as if original. Although publicly discussing one’s cosmetic surgeries is more common in some places than others, the modified body must still be presented as “natural” or “normal” in order to garner the status of an “ideal female body” (Blum, 2005). Similarly, criticisms of women who bleach are often based on the idea that bleaching women are trying to get something that is not naturally theirs. The Beauty Discourse: The Power of Marketing and Celebrity Sales of skin-lightening products are on the rise and their global demand has never been higher (Perry, 2006). In a post-colonial world, and some suggest a post-racial era, how can we make sense of this surge in the demand for skinwhitening? The global beauty industry has reinvented itself in recent years in the image of multiculturalism (Hunter, 2005). Many cosmetics companies that once exclusively featured white women have added light-skinned women of color to their advertisements and as spokespersons for their products. I call this maneuver the “illusion of inclusion” (Hunter, 2005). The illusion of inclusion is a seductive marketing strategy to draw in women of color who might otherwise feel alienated from products marketed exclusively with images of white beauty. By including a few light-skinned, Anglo-looking women of color, cosmetics companies appear to be inclusive of people of color, without disrupting their message that white bodies are beautiful. The inclusion of fair-skinned women of color like Halle Berry of the U.S. (Revlon), Aishwarya Rai of India (L’Oreal), Genevieve Nnaji of Nigeria (Lux soap), or Terry Pheto of South Africa (L’Oreal) is designed to lull women of 147 The Journal of Pan African Studies, vol. 4, no. 4, June 2011 color consumers into buying these products and believing that their bodies and beauty are being valued (Osuri, 2008). Ironically, as the marketing strategies have added a veneer of inclusion, there has simultaneously been a boom of products offered that all claim to lighten, brighten, or whiten the skin. Skin-lightening products are readily available from major cosmetics companies, from local mom-and-pop stores and widely over the Internet. The most lucrative skin-lightening products are increasingly likely to have celebrity endorsements. Celebrity endorsements serve two important purposes: 1) When celebrities endorse a particular product, the public is more likely to believe in its effectiveness and purchase the product, and 2) When celebrities endorse skin-lightening products they also endorse the act of skinlightening itself, suggesting that their own beauty is attainable and that skinlightening is a mainstream, culturally acceptable act. The latter point is particularly important because skin-lightening is still shameful in some cultures either because one should “naturally” have light skin, not chemically derived light skin, or because some believe that lightening the skin implies a shame of one’s race or ethnic identity (Charles, 2003). Overcoming these powerful narratives of “natural beauty” and “racial pride” are crucial for the success of cosmetics companies. In fact, organizers in Ivory Coast have gone so far as to create a new and controversial beauty pageant called, “Miss Authentica.” The Miss Authentica Pageant was designed to speak back to the white beauty regime, raise awareness about the dangers of skin-bleaching, and highlight “natural” African beauty (James, 2009). The important criterion for participation in this pageant is natural, non-bleached skin. Although this pageant has taken a creative approach to revaluing African aesthetics, it has not eliminated the premise that women should be valued for their bodies and their physical beauty. White beauty is a discourse of white supremacy and patriarchy. So, while efforts like Miss Authentica are an important critique of racial beauty regimes, their reliance on the beauty discourse limits their ability for social transformation. In order to appeal to the powerful discourse of “natural beauty” in many societies, most products claim to restore the natural beauty of skin (if it is lost), reveal the natural beauty of skin (if it is hidden), or create a natural beauty (if the consumer never had it to begin with). All of these claims are supported with compelling before and after photos and promises backed with the discourse of science in phrases like, “clinically tested” (See www.superskinlightener.com) or 148 The Journal of Pan African Studies, vol. 4, no. 4, June 2011 “scientifically