Most beauty reviews spend a lot of time discussing formulas and very little time discussing packaging.
But packaging determines how we interact with a product every day. You can have the best foundation, sunscreen or lipstick on the market, but if the package is frustrating to open, difficult to hold or requires more dexterity than some users comfortably have available, that becomes part of the experience too.
As someone who was diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) at 13 and has dealt with hand pain for years, I’ve become more aware of how much packaging design affects usability. That doesn’t mean every beauty product needs to accommodate my specific needs. It does mean I’ve started noticing design choices that make products easier, or harder, to use, particularly through the lens of disability.
Truthfully, I think beauty brands could benefit from thinking about usability a little more often.
No package will work perfectly for everyone. There is no universal design that accommodates every disability, injury or physical limitation. But there are design decisions that can improve usability for a wide range of consumers, whether they’re living with chronic pain, arthritis, vision impairment, hypermobility or a temporary injury.
The best packaging tends to have one thing in common: it quietly serves its purpose.
When aesthetics take priority over usability
Beauty brands spend an enormous amount of time thinking about aesthetics.
You can see it in the rise of minimalist packaging, luxury components and products designed to look beautiful on a vanity or in a social media post. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. Packaging should be visually appealing.
The problem is that visual appeal sometimes comes at the expense of usability.
Luxury beauty brands, for example, often equate weight with quality. Thick glass foundations and heavy compacts create a sense of value the moment you pick them up.
I understand the reasoning. What I don’t understand is why so many brands stop there.
A package can feel expensive without being unnecessarily heavy. A compact can feel substantial without requiring excessive force to open. Functional design shouldn’t force consumers to choose between aesthetics and function.
Minimalist packaging creates a similar challenge. Tiny concealer caps and small lip treatment lids may look sleek, but smaller components are often harder to grip, twist and control. That’s something many consumers probably don’t think about until they experience hand pain themselves. Once you do, it’s difficult to ignore.
Real-world examples
Rare Beauty is one of the few beauty brands that has publicly discussed accessibility and usability in its packaging design. Founder Selena Gomez has spoken about her own dexterity challenges, and the brand has worked with researchers to better understand how packaging can be easier to use for people with hand and arm disabilities.
I’ve noticed similar usability benefits in products that weren’t necessarily marketed around accessibility. Fenty Beauty’s Poutsicle lip stains use a triangular design rather than a traditional cylindrical tube. The shape is visually distinctive, but it’s also easier to grip and control than many traditional lip products.
Even small details can make a difference. KIKO Milano’s blush compacts close securely, but they don’t require excessive force to open. That may not sound revolutionary, but after struggling with packaging that seems determined to stay shut, it’s something I appreciate.
I’ve found the same thing with Live Tinted Hueguard 3-in-1. The lightweight tube is easy to hold and easy to squeeze. Nothing about the packaging calls attention to itself.
That’s really the point. The products I reach for most often aren’t always the most luxurious or visually impressive. They’re usually the products with packaging that feels intuitive and easy to use.
Accessibility isn’t a single feature
One challenge in discussing accessible packaging is that accessibility means different things to different people.
A design feature that helps someone with arthritis may not matter to someone with visual impairments. A package that’s easy for me to use may still create barriers for someone else.
That’s why I don’t think the goal should be perfect accessibility, but instead better usability.
Larger caps can be easier to grip, and magnetic closures can be easier to open than tight clasps. Lightweight packaging can be easier to hold than heavy glass containers, while pumps often require less dexterity than droppers.
None of those decisions solve every accessibility problem, but they do make products easier for more people to use.
Why beauty reviews should talk about packaging more often
Most consumers don’t think about packaging until it becomes a problem. I didn’t either. But over time, it has become one of the first things I notice.
The products I reach for repeatedly tend to have something in common: the packaging works with me rather than against me. They aren’t necessarily the most expensive or the most visually impressive. They’re the products that fit naturally into my routine because the packaging works the way I expect it to, and without strain.
Those details may seem minor until they’re part of a routine you repeat every day.
Beauty brands spend a lot of time talking about ingredients, performance and aesthetics. When it comes to packaging, many brands prioritize visual appeal and stop there. And while those attributes matter to many people, packaging function matters just as much.