Why Women Are Doing Their Makeup on Trains—And Why We Can’t Stop Talking About It?
Is doing your makeup on public transport a modern beauty ritual or a sign of the hustle?
There’s an undeniable intimacy in applying makeup. For many, it’s part of a daily ritual—a quiet moment of self-reflection in the privacy of a bathroom or bedroom, where one prepares (or even submits) to face the world. You could even say it’s a form of armour, a way to shield oneself from the chaos of the outside world. But when this ritual is performed in a public setting—on a train, for example—it transforms into something entirely different: a performance of self-care, witnessed by strangers. As a beauty journalist and avid people-watcher, I can’t help but stare. I’ve been caught out way too many times, more than I’d care to admit.
Public transport creates a fascinating dynamic where personal and public space collide in unexpected ways. A recent article in The Cut asked New Yorkers about the etiquette of applying makeup on public transport, and the general consensus, as long as you’re not encroaching on someone’s personal space or bombarding them with overpowering scents, it’s perfectly fine to do your makeup in the carriage. “Do what you need to, just don’t spray anything.” New Yorkers draw the line firmly, at more invasive acts like flossing or clipping nails—activities that cross the boundary into unhygienic territory. The unspoken rule seemed clear: be discreet, keep it tidy, and don't invade anyone else's personal space and you’re good to go, basically.
It’s strange that makeup applications on public transport invite such heated discussions - this is not to say that we shouldn’t be talking about women’s beauty rituals, because “bad feminism” nor that they don’t warrant explorations.
The fact that it’s debated at all reveals a lot about how we navigate shared spaces and, more importantly, who is allowed to perform certain activities within them. Why does something as innocuous as makeup application spark so much conversation and opinion-sharing, often unsolicited? Is it simply because it’s mostly women who engage in this? It points to a broader societal impulse to police women’s behaviour. We’re not just telling them how to apply makeup but where they’re allowed to do it. There's a deeper issue at work here, one that reflects how society views women's autonomy over their bodies and personal choices.
French philosopher Michel Foucault’s concept of heterotopias—spaces that exist in the overlap between public and private, physical and mental—offers an interesting way to look at makeup application on public transport. A train is a perfect example of a heterotopia: a public space shared by hundreds, yet often used for private actions like reading, sleeping, or indeed, applying makeup. It’s a space where boundaries are constantly shifting, where the intimate is on display for all to see. Why should makeup applications be treated any differently from reading a book or listening to music on the train?
No one questions whether it’s appropriate to read in public, so why does applying makeup provoke such scrutiny?
For women—because it is largely women who engage in this—applying makeup on public transport goes beyond mere multitasking or time-saving. It’s a symbolic act. It reflects the larger social pressure women face to appear polished and put-together, regardless of how busy or time-poor they may be. There’s a pervasive expectation that women must make time for beauty, even when there’s little time to spare. And this act, performed in public, subtly challenges that expectation while also adhering to it. It ties into Laura Mulvey’s theory of the “male gaze,” where women are continually observed, judged, and critiqued, even in the most mundane moments. When a woman applies makeup on the train, she briefly reclaims a private ritual, but in doing so, she exposes it to the judgement of the public.
The role of makeup in women’s lives is multifaceted. On one hand, it’s a powerful tool for self-expression and empowerment. For many, makeup is a way to feel confident, to project an image of control and competence. On the other hand, it’s also a source of pressure. It’s not just about feeling good or looking your best for yourself—it’s about meeting the unspoken societal demands of professionalism, attractiveness, and acceptability. A study published in The Journal of Social Psychology found that women who wear makeup are often perceived as more competent, likeable, and trustworthy in professional settings. This creates a double bind: makeup becomes less of a personal choice and more of a necessity for women striving to succeed in their careers and social interactions. For many, applying makeup during a commute isn’t just convenient—it’s essential for keeping up with these demands.
Makeup application on public transport, then, is much more than a quirk of modern urban life. It speaks to the intersection of time, space, and gendered expectations in our daily routines. It highlights how public spaces, such as trains or buses, become arenas for personal care, and how societal pressures influence even the most private of actions. For those of us watching, it offers a rare glimpse into the invisible labour women undertake to present themselves to the world and plays out a performance of gender - by applying makeup in public, women are performing femininity and beauty in a public arena, reinforcing the cultural norms that demand women look a certain way. For some strokes of mascara, and dabs of powder, is a small act of preparation—not just for the day ahead, but for the expectations and judgements that come with it. On the other hand, it can also be seen as an act of conforming to rigid beauty standards that impose traditional notions of femininity on women?
In the end, watching someone apply makeup on the train reminds us that beauty is a public performance of private desires. It reveals not only individual acts of self-expression but also the broader cultural forces shaping our lives and the enforcement of ideals of femininity. Whether we see it as ordinary or captivating, applying makeup in public opens up a conversation about gender, autonomy, beauty standards and the spaces we navigate.