Hailey Bieber: From Baldwin Bloom to Glazed Doughnut
- Editorial Team
- Oct 16, 2024
- 2 min read
There’s a certain type of celebrity offspring. The kind who seems destined for a life of quiet luxury, their name whispered in society pages rather than splashed across billboards. Hailey Bieber, née Baldwin, could have easily been one of them. A granddaughter of the late Stephen Baldwin, her lineage reads like a who’s who of Hollywood. Yet, she’s carved her own path, one slicked with lip gloss and dusted with highlighter, a path leading straight to the top of the influencer pyramid.
For a while, she was primarily known for her famous family and her even more famous husband. The paparazzi followed, of course, documenting every street-style moment, every red carpet appearance. But something shifted. Maybe it was the marriage, the solidifying of her own identity. Or perhaps it was simply a matter of time before her innate sense of style, a blend of effortless cool and California girl, found its audience.
And find it she did. Millions, in fact. Her Instagram feed, a carefully curated mood board of sunkissed selfies and enviable outfits, became a must-follow. Brands took notice. Collaborations with the likes of Levi's and Jimmy Choo followed. She wasn’t just Hailey Baldwin anymore, the pretty face at the after-party. She was Hailey Bieber, a brand in her own right.
Then came the “glazed donut” phenomenon. A term, dare I say, as brilliant in its simplicity as it is baffling in its ubiquity. Suddenly, everyone wanted skin like Hailey’s: dewy, luminous, seemingly lit from within. It wasn’t just about makeup, though her own beauty line, Rhode, certainly capitalized on the trend. It was about a whole aesthetic, one that felt achievable, relatable even, in its embrace of natural beauty.
I remember a time, not so long ago, when the pursuit of perfection felt almost clinical. Airbrushed faces, bodies sculpted within an inch of their lives. It was a standard that felt impossible to reach, and frankly, a little dull. Hailey, with her glazed donut skin and her off-duty model style, offered a welcome antidote. Here was someone who seemed comfortable in her own skin, imperfections and all. Someone who understood that true beauty wasn’t about striving for an unattainable ideal, but about enhancing what you already had.
Of course, the cynicism in me can’t help but wonder about the machinery behind it all. The publicists, the strategists, the carefully crafted image of “effortlessness.” But then I see a picture of Hailey, laughing with her friends, a smudge of mascara under one eye, and I think, maybe, just maybe, there’s more to it than that. Maybe she’s just a young woman who’s figured out how to navigate the treacherous waters of fame on her own terms. And maybe, in a world obsessed with artifice, that’s the most revolutionary act of all.
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