The Influencer's Shimmer
Maya lay lazily in her bed, unable to sleep due to the glow of the feed as she scrolled endlessly. Wave after wave of content washed over her, the impossibly toned bodies and flawless tans blurred together in a nauseating stream of perfection.
She turned the feed on herself, finding her reflection staring back at her. She frowned. Her finger hovered over the ‘Filters’ button. Just a slight tweak to the jawline, a touch of digital sunlight… after all, it was the norm wasn’t it?
Then a flicker of light caught her eye. It was stupid, just an ad sandwiched between workout videos and sponsored smoothie posts, but the words caught her eye: “Embrace your skin. Beauty, born of the sea…” The accompanying image wasn’t airbrushed and manipulated to perfection, but a woman with vibrant blue streaks across her skin, laughing in the dappled sunlight.
She had to learn more. Tapping on the ad, she was taken to a whole microsite: The Symbiotic Shimmer. Her eyes darted down the page, taking in as much as she could. Tiny bioluminescent algae which thrived on skin created a temporary, ever-changing glow. What stood out was how different it was, a little scary, and utterly unlike anything else in her feed.
The next day the algae had arrived, packaged in a small, nondescript vial. Maya stared at the pulsing green liquid. A mix of excitement and dread coiled in her stomach. Her apartment was too sterile, too white. She hurried to the bathroom and stared at her pale face in the mirror.
With a small pop, the vial was opened and she gingerly spread it across one shoulder. The liquid felt cool, almost ticklish.
She kept going, covering both arms. Hours later, the first hints of sapphire blue shimmered under the harsh bathroom lights. It was messy and uneven, not like the CRISPR tans she was used to. Panic flared but then she felt a defiant thrill. This was real, organic, a part of her now.
She published her next selfie right away without any edits. It was just a streak of defiant blue across her skin. Whereas before she had gotten the same empty compliments of heart emojis, the commenters were now confused and alarmed. Yet a few sent the flame emoji, which she took as a sign of solidarity.
Days turned into weeks as the blue faded away. In its place were spirals of emerald green which illuminated much better against her bathroom walls. Her follower count continued to grow as more people tuned in to see what would happen to her next. A different kind of comment appeared, asking her for skincare tips (she had none, as the algae thrived on neglect).
One morning she woke with an unusual message in her inbox. A brand she had always admired wanted her for a sponsorship. It wasn’t for something trivial like waist trainers or teeth-whitening nanobots. The eco-fashion company wanted her, bioluminescent streaks and all, to model their new organic clothing line.
The shoot was terrifying yet exhilarating. She couldn’t hide behind filters, it was just her, the soft fabric, and the swirling algae patterns which sparkled under the studio’s lights. When she got a chance to look at the results she was stunned — the photos were raw, beautiful, and utterly unlike anything in her old influencer world.
Once the campaign launched, it took the world by storm. The response was more than likes. Girls chimed in as they saw their own freckles in Maya’s unedited skin. Others liked the frazzled bangs or her too-big ears. Her feed transformed to be less about herself and more of a celebration of this strange, beautiful movement.
At the same time, a nagging unease settled upon Maya. Had she swapped one unattainable beauty standard for another? Sure, the algae were natural, but companies were still the one meticulously breeding them for the colors and patterns they’d produce.
Late at night, scrolling through the endless glow, the initial thrill of liberation had started fading. She had found her voice, yes, but perhaps unleashed something far messier — the ever-hungry desire for the new, the unique, the transformative. Was any form of beauty truly free from the eyes of envy, from the desire to be seen?
She looked in the mirror. The algae was almost gone and her skin had returned to its normal banality. A message sat in her inbox, a coupon code to renew the product. Her fingers hovered over the purchase button, but did she really want it? The mirror, once her enemy, now simply reflected the question back at her, a question with no easy answer.
I thought this would be an interesting take. There is a lot of great progress happening with genetic engineering in the context of medicine, but eventually it will filter down to the realm of cosmetics and recreation. What kind of world will we live in if this kind of technology is so common?
There’ll be good parts, and bad parts, but the underlying demands of society — to always be different and unique, may present us with a neverending sense of dissatisfaction.