Melanie Lampro

Mindful living, creative finds, everyday joy.

When Skincare Turns to Skin Scare: Reflections on Body Horror and Beauty Rituals

Every October, I slip a little further into the shadows. Hallowe’en has always been my favourite festival, not just for the pumpkins and sweets, but for the stories. The ones where ordinary things twist into something uncanny. And for me, the richest vein of all has been body horror. Because what is closer to us than our own skin?

Body horror is about losing control. Skin that melts, mutates, or betrays us. When you add beauty rituals into the mix, the fear cuts even closer. It is one thing to be chased by a ghost, but quite another to be betrayed by your moisturiser. Some people call it vanity horror or cosmetic horror. I prefer the term aesthetic body horror because it captures both the ritual and the risk. Instead of revealing radiance, the cream corrodes. Instead of restoring youth, the serum transforms.

Screenshot still from The Wasp Woman (1959, horror film). In a black-and-white scene, a woman sits while another person’s hands pull and press at the skin on her cheeks as part of an experimental serum test. Used for commentary in a Hallowe’en body horror blog. Content note: the film contains scenes of animal testing/animal cruelty.
An early glimpse of how the beauty industry and horror collided, a serum for youth that brings only monstrosity.

These are not abstract ideas. Horror films have explored them for decades, from the bee-serum gone wrong in The Wasp Woman (1959) to the animated nightmare of Beauty Water (2020), where sculpting your face ends in collapse. More recently, Guillermo del Toro’s The Outside (2022) showed what happens when “miracle” lotion becomes a grotesque obsession. The stories work because they tap into familiar doubts: will this product actually help me, what if it harms me, how far would I go for beauty?

Screenshot still from Cabinet of Curiosities: “The Outside” (2022, Netflix). A woman with blotchy, damaged skin reaches out to touch a glowing television screen showing a man in a white suit mirroring her gesture. Used for commentary in a Hallowe’en body horror blog.
Self-care turned ritual of conformity. What happens when the product takes over the person?

I am no film critic, but I cannot help noticing the parallels. I have been using skincare faithfully since I was a teenager. Sun cream, moisturisers, masks, they are part of my rhythm, as ordinary as brushing my teeth. And yet when I watch short films like Creepy Cream or see a character’s chemical peel in Kalley’s Last Review go horribly wrong, I feel that flicker of unease. What if this time the ritual betrayed me?

Screenshot still from Kalley’s Last Review (2018, short horror film). A beauty vlogger films herself applying a chemical peel. Used for commentary in a Hallowe’en body horror blog.
An influencer moment unravelled, when the trusted before and after becomes horror in real time.

That is the strange power of these stories. They flip self-care into Skin Scare. The lotion that should soothe instead melts. The mask that should relax instead suffocates. The peel that should renew instead strips too far. It is absurd, grotesque, and darkly funny, but it also scratches at the quiet fear that what we put on our skin matters.

Screenshot still from Beauty Water (2020, animated Korean horror). A woman in a grey hoodie studies a large pink bottle of cosmetic product with a tense, doubtful expression. Used for commentary in a Hallowe’en body horror blog.
The fantasy of control pushed to its limits. Perfection carved out until the body breaks down.

There is also a ritualistic overlap. Skincare, at its best, is a calming ritual. Cleanse, apply, breathe. A moment of stillness at the end of the day. Horror takes that same structure and tilts it. In place of renewal, you get dissolution. Instead of a protective barrier, you get invasion. The actions are almost identical, only the outcome is flipped. That is why it works so well. It feels familiar, then suddenly wrong.

Screenshot still from Creepy Cream (2018, short horror film). A woman in a red-and-white striped swimsuit applies a thick layer of white cream onto her shoulder while sitting on a beach chair. Used for commentary in a Hallowe’en body horror blog.
Even the smallest pot of cream can become a source of dread when framed through horror’s lens.

For me, that mirror sharpens the contrast. Real skincare is not about punishment or transformation at any cost. It is about kindness. It is about choosing products that actually work with the skin, not against it, and enjoying the small moments they create. When I smooth on a mask, I am not chasing eternal youth. I am taking a pause, catching my breath. A horror film might imagine my face falling away, but in real life it is about feeling grounded again.

So yes, body horror fascinates me. Not because I want to analyse every frame, but because it plays with something I know deeply, the everyday rituals of skincare. A cream, a serum, a peel, all things that sit on my shelf, reimagined as monsters. That is the trick. The treat is in knowing that, outside the screen, self-care is still a safe and nourishing ritual.

And yet, next time I apply a mask, I might hear a faint echo of Hallowe’en laughter. Which feels rather fitting.

Want to watch these stories unfold on screen?
📺 Explore the full playlist here: Skin Scare: A Body Horror Hallowe’en Watchlist on YouTube

This curated Skin Scare watchlist gathers every clip mentioned above, from Creepy Cream to The Substance. Perfect for a spooky taster session! 👻✨

Disclaimer: Screenshots and film stills remain the property of their respective copyright holders. They are reproduced here under fair dealing for the purposes of review, commentary, and criticism.

Melanie Lampro

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