I’ve been thinking about something lately and I’m curious what other people think about it.

I recently came across the term “thin-fat phenotype,” which is often discussed in research around the Asian Indian phenotype. Basically, someone can have a relatively normal BMI but still carry a higher proportion of body fat, especially around the abdomen.

And it made me think about how quickly we put a value judgement on something that can partly be explained by biology.

Why do we see a little belly and immediately think, “I need to get rid of this”?

Why don’t we just see it as one variation of how a human body can look?

That thought somehow took me to the beauty industry.

Because before there was a product to “fix” pigmentation, there had to be an idea that pigmentation was something that needed fixing.

Before there were products promising to make hair more “manageable,” there had to be a belief that certain types of hair were difficult or undesirable.

And before there was a huge industry around getting rid of belly fat, there had to be a belief that having a stomach that isn’t completely flat was a problem.

I’m not saying beauty products are bad. They’re not. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to change something about yourself.

What I find interesting is what happens before the purchase.

Where does that desire actually come from?

If I want to change something because I personally prefer it that way, that’s one thing.

But what if I first learned that there was something wrong with me?

That’s where marketing gets really interesting to me.

Because marketing doesn’t always just respond to an existing need. Sometimes it can shape our idea of what a need is.

And beauty standards aren’t even universal. They change across cultures, generations and time periods. Something considered unattractive in one place can be completely normal, or even desirable, somewhere else.

So I’ve been wondering:

How many of the things we spend money trying to “fix” are things we genuinely wanted to change?

And how many are things we were first taught to dislike about ourselves?

Maybe there’s a difference between:

“I want to change this.”

and

“I’ve been taught that I should want to change this.”

The more I learn about marketing, the more I find that distinction interesting.

Because maybe the most powerful marketing isn’t just convincing you that a product works.

Maybe it’s convincing you that you have a problem in the first place.

What do you think?

Who decided this was a flaw?