The Term “Psycho-Level Makeup”

“Lee Eun-sun’s ‘Outside the Box’ Column”: Women’s Faces, Between Beautifully Made Up and Symptoms of Mental Disorders

By Lee Eun-sun

Published Apr. 29, 2026

Translated by Marilyn Hook

If in the past the terms “Gangnam beauty” and “cosmetic surgery monster” [seong-gwe] trended as ways to make fun of people for having similar faces due to cosmetic surgery, now even using makeup to beautify your face [in non-standard ways] is called “psycho-level” behavior. If “cosmetic surgery monster” othered women by comparing them to horrible creatures, “psycho-level [jeong-byeong gyeong-ji] makeup” more directly alleges mental illness. It positions people wearing excessive makeup as abnormal beings and diagnoses the state of their face as a product of mental illness.

The “psycho-level makeup” meme trended for a while online. If you do a Google search for similar terms, it brings up many videos and images from Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube. (Image credit: Google search)

But to be honest, these kinds of expressions don’t feel strange to me, and the reason why is that this sentiment isn’t something that has just popped up for the first time.

For instance, while makeup emphasizing aegyo-sal [a plump roll of skin under the lower eyelid] has become established as a style, there was a time when it was not accepted as naturally as it is today. As a teenager back then, I enjoyed applying makeup that highlighted the area under my eyes. I even felt a strange sense of liberation in wearing visible makeup, which was forbidden at school. I felt I was defying the school's unilaterally imposed rule.

My noticeable makeup became a target of ridicule. Someone said my under-eye area, where I emphasized my aegyo-sal [puffy area of fat under the lower lash line], looked “like a caterpillar,” and I also heard taunting remarks such as “It looks like undereye bags,” or “Did you draw eyeliner under your eyes?” Looking back now, it seems that such evaluations were not simply reactions to differences in taste, but rather attempts to correct my face for exceeding ‘acceptable limits.’ At the time, I had merely worn a little too much makeup, but my face was classified as laughable or bizarre, and treated as something that needed to be corrected.

“Normalcy” and the standard we call “naturalness”

So the problem is not simply that of a single trending term. Some faces are recognized as “normal” and some faces are excluded, deemed “abnormal,” and we need to think about the way that the standards for this are created.

Putting on makeup itself is no longer problematic. In fact, makeup is required of women as a basic task in taking care of oneself. Women who don’t wear it are labeled with epithets like “bad-mannered,” “lazy,” and “amateur.” At the same time, makeup must look “natural.” It must not be easily noticeable or overdone. What is permitted is not any kind of makeup but specifically makeup that makes you look like you’re not wearing any. Women’s faces are continuously subject to control and evaluation under this contradictory norm.

“Untitled (You Are Not Yourself)” (1983) and “Untitled (You thrive on mistaken identity)” (1981) by Barbara Kruger, who is considered a representative artist of American feminist conceptual art. She criticized how women’s bodies and identities are forced to fit images defined by society and the media, as well as the femininity expected by patriarchal norms; how they are objectified, fragmented, and subject to evaluation. (c) Barbara Kruge

Standards for makeup are not fixed but instead change subtly according to the era and its trends. Styles that were considered unattractive in the past become trendy later. Aegyo-sal makeup is the best example of this.  Once seen as exaggerated and unsophisticated, it’s now accepted as a technique that makes a face natural and pretty. And yet, what still remains is the standard of moderation. The line that defines what the right amount to wear is, how far it is OK to go, may be continually repositioned, but the system in which faces that cross that line are classified as abnormal remains.

And the moment someone steps outside of that standard, her face is no longer an issue of aesthetic taste but something in the realm of pathology.  The moment the label “psycho makeup” is applied, a face does not merely have a different style but is in a troubling state.

How the term “psycho” works

What is emphasized in the “psycho-level makeup” meme recently trending on social media is the way it does not simply rely on color or atmosphere, but rather breaks down the face into sections, interpreting minute details as specific “symptoms.” Pink blush spread widely under the eyes is interpreted not as simple makeup, but as a “smudged face from crying,” and eyeshadow that is nearly purple and highlighted aegyo-sal are explained to be manifestations of emotional instability. Each element from eyelashes to skin tone and even lip color is described with expressions such as “psycho amount,” and the entire face is treated like a surface from which one can diagnose its owner’s mental state.

In other words, what is being ridiculed is not heavy makeup but the woman’s abnormal state, which people are reading from her face. They are going beyond the impression that she simply doesn’t look healthy, and decide that she can’t control her emotions, or is obsessive or unstable.  It aligns with the perspective that a woman's face is not merely her external appearance but an indicator of her inner state. Women are required to appear bright, stable, and well-groomed. The moment they put a foot out of line, they are diagnosed as “weird,” and further, as some who “has issues.” The term “psycho-level makeup” operates in exactly this place.

This way of labeling trivializes mental illness and simultaneously reinforces the stigma against it. Within the “psycho-level makeup” meme, the label of “psycho” goes beyond merely referring to excessive makeup. Rather, the very attempt to compensate for perceived facial flaws—that is, the act of concealing and minimizing imperfections—is interpreted as [the product of] excessive obsession or abnormality. The meme reproduces language that stigmatizes specific physical and facial states while turning mental illness into an object of ridicule and caricature.

It is also worth noting the way such expressions spread rapidly on social media. In a structure where provocative terms tend to be consumed and shared more, the word "psycho" is thrown around lightly as a meme. However, that lightness is accompanied by the weight of pushing away specific women's faces and states. One face is called "pretty," while another is said to be a sign of mental illness. This boundary is not created by individual choice or taste, but rather within constantly reproduced norms.

The issue is not which makeup styles are better or worse. The issue is the way some are labeled disorders. Some ways of using beauty products are accepted as natural, others are judged as excessive, and still others are relegated to the status of abnormality. In this process, women’s faces and bodies continue to be controlled, evaluated, and subject to diagnosis. And perhaps we are accepting these labels far too easily. 

About the Author: Lee Eun-sun became involved in the youth human rights movement during her high school years, when she worked to revise school regulations and enact the Student Human Rights Ordinance. She has continued to engage in activism while contemplating how adolescents can become citizens who speak out against injustice and create change, rather than merely enduring existence in school and wider society. Currently, she is studying sociology in graduate school, opposing violence, and practicing veganism. She has co-authored [Korean-language] books such as We Are Youth-Citizens and Korean Society Is a No-Kids Zone, and has written about the experiences and rights of adolescents as well as gendered norms. She enjoys being influenced by those around her and also having an influence on them.

*Original article: https://www.ildaro.com/10443