唇彩手机壳两年跟风未停:一位美妆编辑为何说它既浪费又不卫生
I’m Over Your Lip Gloss Phone Case
「我受够了你的唇彩手机壳。」Allure 高级撰稿人 Elizabeth Gulino 这篇评论,点名的是美妆手机壳这场持续两年的跟风:Rhode 的唇彩手机壳 2024 年 2 月上线即走红,此后 Temu、Shein 上山寨遍地,各品牌也纷纷做自己的「手机壳+美妆」混合产品——今年早些时候 Daise 推出能像 Pop Socket 一样粘在手机背面的润唇膏,就在本周,Dior 在官网开卖迷你润唇膏、Charlotte Tilbury 宣布迷你定妆粉,两者都是粘在手机背面。她的不满有三层。一是浪费:Euromonitor International 数据显示,仅 2018 年美国就为美妆与个人护理产品制造了近 79 亿件刚性塑料包装,那还没算上后来涌入的挂件、壳子与周边;这类注定进垃圾填埋场的配件只会让美妆行业的过度消费更糟。二是卫生:近十年前 Time 援引的研究称手机上的细菌约为多数马桶座圈的 10 倍,把迷你唇膏、散粉贴在手机背面随身带,在她看来是卫生噩梦;Allure 社交编辑试用 Daise 粘贴款约一周后也反馈,新鲜感很快过去、手机塞进口袋与拿握都变得别扭。三是原创性:Rhode 的原版至少在设计上有过认真考虑,跟风者想搭便车赚钱,却拿不出同等程度的用心。她把矛头最后指向更结构性的问题:生活的一切都被商品化,连挂在包上、贴在手机上的小玩意都不例外,跟风既不卫生也让人疲惫,还回答了「原创是不是死了」这个盘旋在信息流里的问题。说明:本文为媒体观点评论,立场为作者个人表达;所引塑料包装与手机细菌数据为作者援引的机构与既往研究数字,本站未独立复核原始研究。署名:颜如玉编辑台。
We should’ve known we hit peak beauty phone case in 2025 when Justin Bieber sang That’s my baby / She’s iconic / iPhone case / Lip gloss on it. To some, the lyrics are nonsensical, but tapped-in consumers know that he was talking about the Rhode Lip Case. Created by his wife Hailey Bieber for her beauty brand, the $38 silicone case not only protects your phone but also holds a tube of Rhode’s best-selling Peptide Lip Treatment. You’ve likely clocked the case in Mrs. Bieber’s many mirror selfies or spotted them gripped tightly in the hands of tweens walking, well, anywhere in downtown Manhattan.
The phone case immediately went viral after launching in February 2024. The people of the internet—namely, the girlies—couldn’t get enough, matching it to their favorite lip shade and anticipating new colorways. For Rhode fans, it was a way to showcase allegiance to their favorite brand and its very famous and influential founder. An accessory that seemingly came out of nowhere, it changed the beauty merch game… and maybe not in a good way.
Now, two years later, it’s not hard to find knockoffs that don’t exactly live up to Rhode’s creation. Temu and Shein are flooded with dupes in every color of the rainbow, and loads of brands have been inspired to create their own phone case-beauty product hybrids to, at best, try and replicate some of Rhode’s original magic or, at worst, reheat Bieber’s nachos into a stale soggy mess.
Earlier this year, Daise Beauty launched a lip balm that sticks to the back of your phone like a Pop Socket, and just this past week two brands released similar concepts: Dior started selling a mini lip balm on their website and Charlotte Tilbury announced a mini setting powder, both of which adhere to the back of your phone. (Dior’s costs $95, Tilbury’s is free as a gift with purchase.) Fenty Beauty also collaborated with Casetify to create a case that holds both a tiny powder and a tiny lip gloss, resulting in a product so clunky it couldn’t possibly fit in a cute little purse, let alone someone’s pocket. There have likely been other gimmicky iterations thrust upon consumers since 2024, but none of them made enough of an impact to come to mind.
Frankly, I’ve had enough of this landfill-bound, wasteful junk. Two years ago, Rhode did something novel, sure, but brands attempting to hitch a ride on Bieber’s coattails just to make a buck aren’t helping when it comes to overconsumption in the beauty industry—they’re only making it worse by attempting to create a new category of highly disposable products. (Although Bieber recently told Fortune she’s not interested in overconsumption, she is in the business of making products and selling them—including the current six colorways of the case.)
According to Euromonitor International, almost 7.9 billion units of rigid plastic were created just for beauty and personal care products in the U.S. in 2018, and that was before the influx of charms, cases, merch, and other random accessories sold by the very beauty brands accumulating the bulk of the waste. (The global market is expected to grow by 5 percent annually until 2030, so that number is likely now even larger.) And even if your of-the-moment accessory ends up in the recycling bin, it may never be recycled: Only 9 percent of all plastic waste ever produced has actually been turned into something reusable.
Not only are many of these items superfluous and a waste of both money and resources, but they also sound like a hygiene nightmare. Almost a decade ago, a study published in Time said our cell phones were ten times dirtier than most toilet seats—a stat I’m sure has multiplied over the past decade as people become even more glued to their miniature screens. (It was around that time that Dscout data uncovered that the average cell phone user touches their phone 2,617 times per day). So why, on God’s green Earth, would you purposely stick a beauty product onto the back of a filthy device just to then jam your finger into a formula you’re going to spread onto your mouth or over your skin? Phones can also heat up, so I can’t imagine a warm surface is a great environment for your products to rest on.
Of the Daise stick-on, Allure associate social media manager Katie Gunderman says her amusement with the accessory was short-lived. “My initial thoughts were about how cute, fun, colorful, and potentially practical it was,” she explains. “After about a week of my phone being in my back pocket or jammed in my purse, it kept sliding open, collecting debris along the way. After that, there was no way I was applying it on my lips."
That also begs the question: Does no one put their phone in their pocket anymore? How are we fitting an entire mini computer and a pressed powder in our already tight denim pouches? And while I know girl grip is impressive, the bigger these get, are they at all comfortable to hold?
Every brand contributes to beauty’s waste problem, including Rhode, simply because they make products that don’t last forever. But at least the originators of the beauty phone case brought a level of intentionality to the product’s design. It’s more hygienic than a pot of sample-sized lip balm stuck on pop socket-style, and it pairs with a full-size product. The case, of course, can be used with however many lip treatments you go through in your phone’s—and thus your case’s— life cycle.
I’m not seeing the same level of, we thought this one through! from other brands. But if I’m to aim my pitchfork at anyone—or anything—it’d be late-stage capitalism. Every aspect of our lives has been commodified, down to the charms that hang off of our handbags and the trinkets we attach to our handheld internet portals. We’ve all become walking billboards for brands whether you like it or not, and if you think about the amount of mirror selfies a branded phone case would appear in, we’re doing a lot of marketing legwork for free.
The glut of phone accessories isn’t just unhygienic or jading—it’s exhausting to keep up with, and points to a dismal answer to the “is originality dead?” discourse pervading our feeds. To be clear, I’m not trying to be a hater. Of course we should be able to do whatever the hell we want with our beauty products and continue to implement the small, meaningful ways we express ourselves to the world. But maybe let’s keep them off of the devices—we probably don’t need more screentime anyway.
来源:颜如玉编辑台 · allure.com