Beauty, grooming, and identity are converging in a fresh cultural shift in Japan as an increasing number of men quietly embrace makeup—not just as a tool for concealment, but as a form of self-expression and personal styling that resonates with younger generations and even mainstream society. From subtle ベースメイク (base makeup) for everyday freshness to bold looks inspired by genderless fashion and visual kei subcultures, the idea of 男性メイク (male makeup) is evolving beyond niche scenes into something more widely accepted on the streets of Tokyo and beyond. This evolution reflects not only changing beauty routines but also Japan’s broader cultural dialogue around appearance, gender norms, and individual style—making men wearing makeup a trending topic in fashion, media, and even corporate branding in 2026.
According to a recent article in The Mainichi, there has been a noticeable rise in Japanese men incorporating cosmetics into their daily grooming routines, with K-beauty influences playing a role in encouraging lighter, more natural makeup styles that focus on skincare and enhancing facial features rather than dramatic transformations. Young men in their 20s and 30s are reported to be experimenting with products such as BBクリーム (BB cream), concealer, and eyebrow pencils to achieve a “clean” yet effortless look. This trend toward subtle enhancement aligns with broader East Asian grooming aesthetics, where a smooth, even complexion and well-defined features are linked to youthfulness and self-care, not just femininity.
Domestic beauty brands are responding to this cultural shift with targeted products and outreach. In 2025, Japanese brand WOLG successfully positioned its Face Styling BB Cream as a product that addresses common skin concerns—like redness, pores, and acne scars—while maintaining a natural finish, claiming top spots in male-oriented rankings on Amazon Japan. Yet even as consumers show interest, social stigma persists: surveys revealed many men were uncomfortable with others knowing they use BB cream, suggesting lingering stereotypes about makeup being “effeminate” or unmanly.
Cultural undercurrents helping to soften that stigma include Japan’s own fashion subcultures, especially genderless fashion, which emerged in the mid-2010s and continues influencing how appearance intersects with identity. Icons of the movement, often described as ジェンダーレス (gender-free) in Japanese media, use hair dye, makeup, and androgynous clothing to reject strict gender norms, treating beauty as part of personal expression rather than performance. Figures like Toman and Satsuki Nakayama, prominent models and influencers associated with this scene, have brought gender-nonconforming aesthetics to wider public attention, helping make stylized makeup more visible and aspirational for young people.
Another cultural thread entwined with this makeup shift is visual kei, a uniquely Japanese musical and fashion phenomenon in which elaborate makeup has long been part of the identity of rock bands and performers. Though distinct from everyday grooming, its influence filters outwards, normalizing the idea of cosmetics on men as a creative tool rather than a luxury reserved for women.
The Japanese media and beauty industry are also actively encouraging men to explore makeup more confidently. In January 2026, cosmetics maker Isehan launched initiatives like KISSMEメイク部, offering makeup workshops for working men, and 眉毛ホームルーム (eyebrow homeroom) lessons for male high school students—aimed at demystifying basic techniques like base, eyebrow, and lip makeup and framing them as empowering skills. Online beauty magazines and YouTube programs such as 美的’s “メンズヘアメイク座談会” (Men’s Hair & Makeup Roundtable) showcase spring 2026 color trends and tips from male makeup artists, further fueling interest among enthusiasts.
Even traditionally conservative institutions are acknowledging the role of appearance in professional settings. Last year, a police academy in Fukushima Prefecture enlisted beauty consultants to teach makeup application to cadets, including men, to help them maintain a neat and professional appearance while engaging with the community. While this move sparked humor on social media, it also underscored how grooming is increasingly seen as part of professionalism and public presentation, not just personal vanity.
Part of the beauty boom is rooted in broader generational shifts. Younger Japanese consumers—especially those in Z世代 (Generation Z)—tend to view personal style and self-care through a more fluid lens, often unswayed by binary gender norms. Japanese youth are also influenced by global trends via K-pop and Western fashion, where male grooming and makeup have become mainstream, rather than niche, topics. This global cross-pollination has helped make makeup feel more accessible for men in Japan, particularly when framed as 自己表現 (self-expression) rather than performance.
Yet this transformation isn’t unfolding uniformly across generations or regions. Older men, for example, may still associate makeup with femininity due to decades of rigid gender expectations, and some social circles remain slow to embrace cosmetics on men without teasing or judgment. But as beauty brands innovate, educational initiatives proliferate, and cultural influences from fashion subcultures and media continue to push boundaries, the idea of men wearing makeup in Japan is moving from fringe to fluid. In 2026, makeup for men is no longer just about hiding flaws—it’s about redefining confidence, creativity, and what it means to look one’s best in a world where style and identity increasingly intersect.
Oh, the panic. The hand-wringing. The dramatic sighs about “the end of masculinity” because a few young men are buying BBクリーム and learning how to shape their eyebrows. Sweethearts, please. If a little concealer can topple your entire concept of manhood, the problem is not the concealer.
Men wearing makeup is not the apocalypse. It’s skincare with better marketing.
I have watched this shift unfold for years across Asia. From visual kei rockers with unapologetic eyeliner to today’s soft-spoken office workers dabbing on ベースメイク before work, the message is not rebellion. It’s refinement. It’s 清潔感 (that prized sense of “clean, polished presence”) dialed up a notch. In a culture where appearance has always mattered—where uniforms, grooming, and presentation are social currency—why are we shocked that men want in?
Let’s be honest. Women have been expected to present a curated face to the world for centuries. Foundation at job interviews. Lipstick at client meetings. Mascara on dates. Nobody called that a “crisis.” It was simply called “professionalism.” Now that men are discovering the magic of even skin tone and well-behaved brows, suddenly we’re debating the collapse of civilization?
Please.
What fascinates me isn’t the makeup itself. It’s the quiet liberation behind it. Younger men are less interested in performing rigid masculinity. They’re interested in looking good, feeling confident, and expressing 自己表現 (self-expression). Some are inspired by K-pop idols. Some just want to cover acne scars. Some enjoy the ritual. None of these motivations require a national debate.
And here’s a delicious irony: the same society that once teased boys for carrying lip balm now markets “men’s cosmetics” in sleek charcoal packaging to reassure everyone that, don’t worry, it’s still manly. As if pigment has a gender.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: patriarchy hurts men too. It tells them they must not care too much about their appearance, but also that they must be handsome. It tells them to be stoic, but also charming. It polices softness while demanding perfection. No wonder a generation is quietly rewriting the script—with eyebrow pencils.
If a young man wants to blend his BB cream before catching the train, let him. If a salaryman wants to look less exhausted in fluorescent office lighting, bless him. Confidence is attractive. Effort is attractive. Self-knowledge is attractive.
And if your masculinity melts under a layer of foundation? Darling, perhaps it was powdery to begin with.