Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
Share I paid a 'beauty machine' to rate my face. Apparently I'm a 67.
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Or
I paid a 'beauty machine' to rate my face. Apparently I'm a 67.
This article is by Woo Ji-won and read by an artificial voice.
[GIVE IT A GO]
The world is changing fast - but I still didn't expect to get my face judged at a convenience store. I got a 67 out of 100.
When I first saw the machine - located right by the entrance of the GS25 in Insadong - it looked more like a department store wayfinding kiosk than a beauty device. "You're going to read my face?" I thought.
"Personal color consulting" is taking off around the world, but nowhere is it more popular than in Korea - and yes, I've also spent hundreds of thousands of won on it myself. So naturally, I had good reason to doubt a kiosk claiming to offer the same "diagnoses" for 2,000 won ($1.50) - free until August - that are traditionally the job of trained professionals with certificates.
The instructions were incredibly simple. Choose your language - Korean, English, Japanese or Chinese - then enter your name, age, gender and racial identity. You can only choose one - mixed-race folks are out of luck. Instantly, a QHD 5-megapixel camera scanned my face. And less than three seconds later, my full facial analysis popped up on screen.
GS25 introduced a new "beauty diagnosis device" this August to its New Annyeong Insadong branch in central Seoul's Jongno District in an effort to promote its growing lineup of skincare and cosmetics . The machine offers personal color analysis, a process that determines which colors of clothing, makeup and accessories best complement an individual's natural features, such as skin tone and eye color and typically costs between 50,000 and 150,000 won in Korea. The kiosk also claims to analyze facial features and proportions, providing face shape and "ratio diagnostics" along with makeup and styling recommendations.
On a recent Thursday at 3 p.m, I gave the machine a try. The result? A rollercoaster of emotions packed into just one minute.
In previous personal color consultation, I've been labeled "Summer Cool" and "Spring Warm," but the kiosk declared me unexpectedly "Winter Cool." Keywords including #chic, #sharp and #glamorous also appeared across the screen along with sample photos of fabulous-looking people, none of whom looked remotely like me, representing them.
The verdict appeared to be based on intricate details. It broke down the brightness, saturation and temperature of my skin, lips and eyes to determine whether each leaned cool or warm. My skin came out cool, my lips and eyes warm.
But then, the machine placed my face in the middle of my supposed "best" color palette, and I looked like I'd just pulled an all-nighter. I knew the algorithm was off.
The face ratio analysis, however, was very impressive - I had never tried anything like it before. According to the machine, I have a round face, puppy-shaped eyes (cute), a narrow nose (I'll take it) and thick lips (yes!).
It even measured my vertical facial proportions - 1:1:1.2 from forehead to nose to chin. I've always suspected my chin was a bit long, so having a machine confirm it...ouch! It also broke down the distance from my eyebrows to my eyes, my face's width-to-height ratio and even my philtrum-to-chin length. For that last one, I scored a "golden ratio" of 1:1.8, which was surprising - I had always assumed that one was a bit off.
When the width-to-height ratio analysis said my face "may appear long or wide," however, it stung a little. I had quietly worried about that before but never said it out loud - but now a machine had broadcast it to the public.
Despite that setback, I received a 67 out of 100 for "golden ratio score," evaluating the proximity of my facial proportions to "ideal." The global average is 53. I'm not sure if I should feel proud or mildly roasted.
While I liked the idea that the machine was providing a detailed analysis of my facial proportions - something I had never done or seen before - something about the process almost seemed unnecessary. Part of me couldn't help but wonder: How had the machine even determin...
View all episodes
By Newsroom of the Korea JoongAng DailyThis article is by Woo Ji-won and read by an artificial voice.
[GIVE IT A GO]
The world is changing fast - but I still didn't expect to get my face judged at a convenience store. I got a 67 out of 100.
When I first saw the machine - located right by the entrance of the GS25 in Insadong - it looked more like a department store wayfinding kiosk than a beauty device. "You're going to read my face?" I thought.
"Personal color consulting" is taking off around the world, but nowhere is it more popular than in Korea - and yes, I've also spent hundreds of thousands of won on it myself. So naturally, I had good reason to doubt a kiosk claiming to offer the same "diagnoses" for 2,000 won ($1.50) - free until August - that are traditionally the job of trained professionals with certificates.
The instructions were incredibly simple. Choose your language - Korean, English, Japanese or Chinese - then enter your name, age, gender and racial identity. You can only choose one - mixed-race folks are out of luck. Instantly, a QHD 5-megapixel camera scanned my face. And less than three seconds later, my full facial analysis popped up on screen.
GS25 introduced a new "beauty diagnosis device" this August to its New Annyeong Insadong branch in central Seoul's Jongno District in an effort to promote its growing lineup of skincare and cosmetics . The machine offers personal color analysis, a process that determines which colors of clothing, makeup and accessories best complement an individual's natural features, such as skin tone and eye color and typically costs between 50,000 and 150,000 won in Korea. The kiosk also claims to analyze facial features and proportions, providing face shape and "ratio diagnostics" along with makeup and styling recommendations.
On a recent Thursday at 3 p.m, I gave the machine a try. The result? A rollercoaster of emotions packed into just one minute.
In previous personal color consultation, I've been labeled "Summer Cool" and "Spring Warm," but the kiosk declared me unexpectedly "Winter Cool." Keywords including #chic, #sharp and #glamorous also appeared across the screen along with sample photos of fabulous-looking people, none of whom looked remotely like me, representing them.
The verdict appeared to be based on intricate details. It broke down the brightness, saturation and temperature of my skin, lips and eyes to determine whether each leaned cool or warm. My skin came out cool, my lips and eyes warm.
But then, the machine placed my face in the middle of my supposed "best" color palette, and I looked like I'd just pulled an all-nighter. I knew the algorithm was off.
The face ratio analysis, however, was very impressive - I had never tried anything like it before. According to the machine, I have a round face, puppy-shaped eyes (cute), a narrow nose (I'll take it) and thick lips (yes!).
It even measured my vertical facial proportions - 1:1:1.2 from forehead to nose to chin. I've always suspected my chin was a bit long, so having a machine confirm it...ouch! It also broke down the distance from my eyebrows to my eyes, my face's width-to-height ratio and even my philtrum-to-chin length. For that last one, I scored a "golden ratio" of 1:1.8, which was surprising - I had always assumed that one was a bit off.
When the width-to-height ratio analysis said my face "may appear long or wide," however, it stung a little. I had quietly worried about that before but never said it out loud - but now a machine had broadcast it to the public.
Despite that setback, I received a 67 out of 100 for "golden ratio score," evaluating the proximity of my facial proportions to "ideal." The global average is 53. I'm not sure if I should feel proud or mildly roasted.
While I liked the idea that the machine was providing a detailed analysis of my facial proportions - something I had never done or seen before - something about the process almost seemed unnecessary. Part of me couldn't help but wonder: How had the machine even determin...