
Swipe, scroll, suggest. With just a few thumb flicks, it’s easy to fall down the rabbit hole of skincare reels and cosmetic ads. One moment it’s a video promoting “brighter” skin, the next it’s an influencer sharing their experience with a lunchtime nose job. Instagram, in particular, has become a bustling marketplace for beauty content, filled with glowing reviews, clinic promos, and algorithmically tailored ads.
This is not just harmless scrolling. The 2023 ZAP Beauty Index, an annual research publication released by Indonesian beauty clinic chain ZAP, shows that 76 percent of Indonesian women now list skin brightening as their top skincare goal. A staggering 95 percent say they turn to Instagram for beauty tips and inspiration. The index is based on a survey of thousands of women who are consumers in Indonesia’s beauty industry.
Cosmetic enhancements are no longer exclusive to celebrities or the super-rich. What was once discreet or taboo is now common, visible, and increasingly normalized. Rhinoplasties and eyelid surgeries have become weekend errands for some, while non-invasive treatments are now bundled into mall errands, sandwiched between grocery runs and café meetups. App-based consultations, 0 percent interest installment plans, and flashy clinic promotions have made it easier than ever to say yes. But this rising accessibility comes at a cost—financially, socially, and psychologically.
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From self-care to status symbol: The normalisation of cosmetic enhancements
A rhinoplasty in Jakarta typically ranges between Rp 15 to 25 million (US $950–1,600). For many middle-class Indonesians, this equals a month or two of wages. In such contexts, reshaping one’s face becomes more than cosmetic. It signals class aspiration, a desire for self-improvement, and—perhaps—quiet conformity. These procedures are framed as investments, not indulgences. A better nose, a brighter face, a more “neat” appearance—each an asset, a form of what some sociologists call “bodily capital.”
Industry data backs this up. The Indonesia Medical Aesthetics Market – Focused Insights 2024–2029 report valued the sector at US $257 million in 2023, with projections nearly doubling by 2029. Botox and skin treatments lead the surge, while rhinoplasty and blepharoplasty continue their steady rise.
Celebrity surgeon Teuku Adifitrian, better known as Dr. Tompi, who leads @bamed.indonesia clinic group, notes this growing demand. In 2024, he reported an uptick in nose and eyelid surgeries among middle-class clients, who often cited Zoom fatigue and social media filters as motivation. Beauty, for them, is not indulgence. It’s seen as an investment in bodily capital.
Yet Indonesia’s cosmetic trends do not merely mimic global ideals; they reshape them. In South Korea, blepharoplasty reflects K-beauty ideals of youth and symmetry. In the U.S., procedures focus on body contouring, like liposuction and breast augmentation. In Indonesia, aesthetic choices are shaped by social expectations: subtle class cues, marriageability, and a desire for what’s considered a “neat” or proper appearance.
Technology has accelerated these decisions. Apps like ZAP and ERHA Buddy allow customers to preview 3D results and compare prices before setting foot into a clinic. Mall-based outlets now offer botox and skin-brightening infusions alongside clothing stores and coffee chains. Beauty decisions are no longer momentous; they’re folded into the everyday.
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Still, beauty standards here don’t fully align with global templates. While K-pop jawlines and Western cheekbones might appear in advertisements, they don’t necessarily reflect what Indonesian women want. Only 16 percent cite Korean film stars as beauty inspirations; just 9 percent name K-pop idols. Instead, 78 percent follow local influencers. What stands out are soft expressions, even skin tone, and a radiant, but not extreme look. The enduring keyword is mencerahkan, or brightening.
This ideal has consequences. Despite public health warnings, dangerous skin-whitening products remain widespread, especially among working-class consumers. In 2023 alone, the National Agency of Drug and Food Control (BPOM) seized 181 mercury-laced beauty products from markets and online sellers across Indonesia. These products, falsely marketed as whitening or brightening creams, can cause skin damage, kidney failure, and neurological disorders.
The class divide is stark. Wealthier Indonesians fly to Seoul for cosmetic surgeries. The middle class embraces lunchtime injectables. Working-class women often rely on over-the-counter creams, some of them harmful. On the surface, beauty seems more accessible than ever. But that access is tiered, and the risks are not evenly distributed.
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Filtered desires, real consequences
Religion further complicates the picture. In a predominantly Muslim country, the morality of cosmetic surgery remains debated. Some Islamic scholars consider altering God-given features as haram, while others allow it if the procedure boosts mental well-being or corrects a perceived flaw. A 2021 survey by the Indonesian Ulema Council found that 40 percent of Muslim respondents were unsure whether cosmetic procedures were permissible. In more conservative areas, women often seek religious or community approval before booking anything.
For transwomen, cosmetic procedures carry yet another meaning. These enhancements are not trend-driven but deeply tied to gender identity and social legitimacy. Yet due to financial and systemic exclusion, many transwomen turn to unregulated, dangerous procedures, such as industrial-grade silicone injections, at great personal risk.
Amid all this, the question of choice becomes murky. Are these procedures empowering, or are they another form of social pressure? In Indonesia, both realities coexist. Some women describe cosmetic surgery as kerja keras—a kind of effort, like learning English or earning a degree. Clinics echo this language, marketing enhancements as tools for personal growth.
But researchers warn of more insidious patterns. A 2022 Universitas Indonesia study found that exposure to influencer-led surgery diaries increased appearance anxiety in young women. In Central Java, some marriage brokers even report that women who undergo blepharoplasty receive higher dowry offers of up to 25 percent more. In this context, beauty becomes transactional.
Social media blurs the line between autonomy and suggestion. Universitas Padjadjaran researchers describe the phenomenon as “invisible suggestion”—a feedback loop in which filtered faces become the norm, and the desire to “fix” oneself feels self-motivated, but is algorithmically shaped.
Financial tools also add pressure. Clinics now offer zero-interest installment plans for everything from botox to surgical consults. While this may ease access, it also normalizes cosmetic procedures as casual lifestyle choices, nudging consumers toward aesthetic maintenance as a monthly bill.
In the end, Indonesia’s beauty boom is neither pure empowerment nor outright coercion. It’s a negotiation between class, culture, desire, and digital influence. Each enhanced cheekbone or lightened complexion tells a story of not just of personal taste, but of aspiration, anxiety, and the complex cost of fitting in.
Sofia Shah is a U.S. State Department fellow who studies Indonesian culture and language. She researches Indonesian women’s economic participation and has been recognized by the Association for Asian Studies for her work. In her free time, she competitively debates on topics like international relations and theories of politics.
