When I arrived in Vietnam, one of the first things I noticed was how women protect themselves from the sun. Covered clothing, masks, dense fabrics even in the heat. But according to local beauty standards, it is not enough to simply preserve the skin. Through masks, scrubs, and creams, it is often lightened and brought closer to an ideal of an even, almost porcelain tone.

This experience felt unexpectedly familiar, but from the opposite side. When I was 16 years old, in Russia, having pale, untanned skin was considered unfashionable. It felt like a flaw. I would spend hours in the sun as soon as it got warm, and even went to tanning salons, trying to “fix” myself and look healthier. It felt natural to align with what is considered beautiful.

I asked each girl I photographed why they were whitening their skin. Most girls brought up fashion, Korean idols, Chinese beauty standards, the idea of looking cleaner, brighter, richer, feeling more confident, resembling princesses. Some also mentioned the harmful impact of UV light, but it was not the most common answer I heard. 
Snow Whites raises questions about the fragility and constructed nature of female beauty standards. About how the body becomes a surface for cultural, social, and historical projections. And about how the pursuit of “perfect” skin is less a personal choice than a reflection of the environment in which it exists.

SNOW WHITES

2024