Makeup to Die For: Ancient Glamour

Beauty is pain

“Beauty is pain” and “pain” beauty was indeed. Long before modern regulations and dermatological testing, cosmetics were crafted from minerals, metals and pigments straight from the earth. In ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome, substances such as lead, copper and mercury were routinely applied to the skin, eyes and lips, not knowing their dangerous effects; however, makeup was more than mere vanity: it served spiritual purposes, marked status and played a role in identity. Kohl eyeliner was believed to ward off evil. Pale powdered faces symbolised wealth and refinement. Red lips and cheeks evoked vitality and fertility; but beneath these cultural meanings lay a cost.

In this series, we are going to explore the science behind these ancient beauty rituals and unravel how their ingredients interacted with the human body. Through a scientific lens, we will see just how far people were willing to go to meet the beauty standards of their time, and how, for many, that pursuit came with a hidden price.

Pigments of Power

Starting in ancient Egypt, kohl eyeliner wasn’t just a finishing touch. It was thought to ward of evil, signal status and, somewhat ironically, doubled as a health tonic.  The pigment came from galena, or lead (II) sulphide (PbS), the same compound now labelled as a neurotoxin. Galena isn’t water soluble, so under normal conditions is fairly innocent, but human skin is not a neutral surface. Especially under the heat of the Egyptian sun, mixed with out slightly acidic sweat, oils and UV exposure, PbS begins to slowly dissolve, releasing Pb2+ ions into our skin. Once absorbed, these ions can act as molecular impersonators of calcium ions (Ca2+) and interfere with various calcium dependant processes.

They have a vast effect on neurotransmission and synapses by binding to calcium dependant proteins, such as calmodulin, disrupting intracellular signalling, affecting muscle contractions and nerve signals. The lead ions also inhibit voltage-gated calcium channels (VGCCs) on neurones, altering neurotransmitter release and synaptic plasticity, thus affecting things like mood, memory and movement. They may also interfere with NMDA receptor regulation, proteins crucial for long-term potentiation, or, more simply, forming long term memories. By entering mitochondria in cells, they disrupt the calcium balance and impairs the electron transport chain leading to increased reactive oxygen species (ROS), damaging molecules which trigger oxidative stress, and apoptotic cascades, or programmed cell death.

On top of these neurological consequences, chronic lead exposure also inhibits the enzyme δ-aminolevulinic acid dehydrates (ALAD), essential for haem biosynthesis – the prosthetic group found in the haemoglobin of our red blood cells in which oxygen is transported. This lack of haem causes people to develop hypochromic anaemia, causing fatigue and a pale, sickly complexion which, ironically, matched other beauty ideals of the time.

Despite all of this, the Egyptians may have not been completely wrong. Modern studies show that trace amounts of lead exposure can stimulate nitric oxide (NO) production in macrophages (immune cells) which has antimicrobial properties, meaning this eyeliner may have helped prevent eye infections, especially in hot, dusty, fly-ridden environments. The problem? They were using a bit more than just “trace-amounts”, applying it day in and day out. 

Ancient Egyptian eyes didn’t just smoulder, they gleamed. Green was the colour of fertility, rebirth and the gods, and for those who wanted their eyes to echo the gleam of the Nile, malachite was the mineral of choice. Ground into a fine powder and mixed with animal fat or plant oils, it became a rich, metallic eyeshadow, luxurious… and chemically unhinged. Malachite, or copper (II) carbonate hydroxide (Cu2CO3(OH)2), is quite reactive and on skin, especially on our moist and slightly acidic microenvironment, paired with UV exposure, this compound begins to break down, releasing Cu2+ ions.

At first glance, it seems harmless. In fact, copper is actually an essential trace element, required by enzymes like cytochrome c oxidase in the mitochondrial electron transport chain, a series of protein complexes in the inner mitochondrial membrane (cristae) that facilitates the transfer of electrons, in order to produce ATP. But, when its concentration is dramatically altered, it starts to cause some biochemical issues. Once released, Cu2+ ions catalyse Fenton-like reactions, redox processes that generate reactive oxygen species (ROS), highly unstable molecules like hydroxyl radicals (·OH) and superoxide anions (O2 -).

This copper-induced oxidative stress leads to a series of biological effects on our body: lipid peroxidation occurs when ROS target unsaturated fatty acids in cell membranes, weakening their structure and permeability, especially problematic in the delicate skin around our eyes. Likewise, DNA damage is caused by the ROS interacting with nucleic acids, causing strands to break, base modifications and gene mutations. If the cell’s repair mechanisms fail, the result can be anything from premature aging to carcinogenesis (the start of a cancer formation). As previously mentioned, excess copper disrupts the electron transfer chain by displacing iron-sulphur clusters leading to mitochondrial dysfunction causing impaired ATP production and triggering apoptosis. Because copper is bioaccumulative, repeated exposure meant its toxic effect were chronic, not acute meaning the damage was subtle, cellular and systematic. This means that, over time, elevated copper levels could lead to hepatoxicity (damage to liver cells), neuroinflammation and metabolic disruption, all in exchange for a shimmering eyelid.

The White Ideal

Going from the black and green glamour of ancient Egypt, in Greece people were in pursuit for the perfect pale. In Greece, pallor was more than just fashionable, it was also political and a sign of status; to be pale was to be refined, untouched by labour or sun. This is where white lead, or basic lead carbonate (2PbCO₃·Pb(OH)₂), comes in, applied as a paste or powder across the face, neck and chest of Greek women, and later Roman elites, giving them a cool, marble-like complexion, almost ethereal as they strove resemble the statues they so famously crafted.

Though relatively insoluble on its own, in the presence of skin oils, carbon dioxide and moisture, white lead begins to decompose into more soluble lead salts, especially lead acetate (Pb(CH₃COO)₂), which easily penetrates the skin. Once absorbed, Pb2+ ions, like those in the galena, have an array of effects. To go into more detail, as well as inhibiting the ALAD enzyme, it also effects ferrochelatase, another enzyme necessary in the biosynthetic pathway for haem. Furthermore, the interference with synaptic transmissions, especially in cholinergic and glutamatergic neurones, manifesting in numbness, muscle tremors and, in advanced cases, peripheral paralysis. Lead accumulation in bone interferes with pituitary-gonodal signalling, contributing to infertility, miscarriage and irregular menstruation, thus helping to construct the ideal fragile, ethereal aesthetic surrounding women at that time. Furthermore, chronic exposure in high doses could push the brain into absolute chaos , known as lead encephalopathy, with symptoms such as delirium, hallucinations, convulsions and, eventually, death. On top of this, some women layered with natural red ochre or cinnabar, sealing in the toxins even further.

A Radiant Decay

Where the Greeks powdered their faces for pallor, the Romans sought drama with brightly coloured cheeks and lips; but colour, as it turned out, came at a price. The most coveted rough of the Roman elite was cinnabar, a vibrant scarlet mineral known as mercury (II) sulphide (HgS). Crushed and whipped into waxes or unguents, cinnabar gave the cheeks that flushed, reddish hue, worn by courtesans, aristocrats and anyone else who could get their hands on it.

Though HgS is technically insoluble, when under the right conditions, it can undergo photochemical and hydrolytic degradation, releasing Hg2+ ions into the skin, particularly where it’s thinnest, eyelids, lips and mucosal edges. These mercury ions have a very high affinity for sulphur, in particular the thiol (-SH) groups found in active sights of enzymes. When the Hg2+ binds to these, they become misfolded, denatured, meaning critical detoxifying enzymes such as glutathione reductase and thioredoxin are shut down, leaving cells vulnerable to oxidative attack. Similar to lead and copper ions, the mercury also causes mitochondrial disruption, impairing the electron transport chain, collapsing ATP synthesis and triggering apoptosis. Mercury can also cross through the blood-brain barrier with unsettling ease, disrupting neurotransmitters, especially dopamine, serotonin and glutamate, leading to symptoms from tremors, depression and insomnia to hallucinations memory loss and eventually mercury induced psychosis.

Unlike arsenic or cyanide, mercury doesn’t kill in a flourish, instead it slowly and silently eats away at your cells over time. Roman women who wore cinnabar daily would have experience an array of symptoms: peeling lips, trembling hands, sleepless nights and a subtle, growing insanity. Some may have called it hysteria, yet we know it as mercurial encephalopathy. Since Hg2+ bioaccumulates, there was no immediate burn, no visible wound, just a slow reinforcement of its toxicity.

What Remains

For centuries, people were ignorant to the toxicity of their beauty, however today’s archaeochemists have turned to tools like X-ray fluorescence (XRF), gas chromatography-mass spectrometry (GC-MS) and inductively couples plasma mass spectrometry (ICP-MS) to analyse the remains of ancient cosmetics, and those who wore them. These techniques allow identification and measures of trace elements and organic compounds: XRF detects heavy metals like lead and mercury in the powdered pigments, GC-MS display the oily bases and waxes used to hold the colours together and ICP-MS goes a step further to detect any toxic metals within human bones and teeth. This has unveiled that the Roman face creams were laced with lead hundreds of times above modern safety limits, where the Egyptian kohl containing galena left behind measurable lead in eye sockets and skulls from the daily cosmetic rituals.

The Cost of Colour

So why did they do this, day after day? Beauty wasn’t just decoration, it was currency. In ancient societies, these pale, polished complexion didn’t just say “I’m pretty”, it screamed “I’m rich!” The stained cheeks and eyes weren’t a sign of vanity, but worn for purposes of seduction, status and spiritual protection. In Egypt, it warded off the evil eye. For the Romans, it said you had the coin to glow like a goddess. While the effects of mercury, lead and copper were lethal, they weren’t immediate, and without any concept of bioaccumulation or organ-specific toxicity, illness was pinned on everything but cosmetics: malicious spirits, vengeful gods or bad karma.

So, the ancients seemed to have mastered the aesthetics of allure, but the science behind it? Dangerously wrong. With little to know understanding of the biology and chemistry around their cosmetics, they unknowingly turned their vanities into poisons, daily rituals of self-inflicted harm, wrapped in status. But the story doesn’t end here – the Renaissance takes toxic beauty to theatrical new extremes: belladona, dilated pupils and complexions painted in fatal radiance.