Remote workers are paying for makeovers, studio lighting, and even plastic surgery.
“Did I see a bed behind you?” she asks.
I let out a nervous giggle. My bed is unmade, a pile of unfolded laundry sits over my right shoulder, and a $9.99 Muhammad Ali poster hangs on my wall.
“You have space for a plant. I would get an artificial plant that takes up one-to-two feet in diameter, and is about four-feet tall. Because when you have green, it feels better. I would also reposition the poster so that it’s not behind you — too distracting, you want it on the side walls.”
Next up on the chopping block is my black shirt.
“You usually don’t want to wear a black or white shirt. The camera picks up whatever is white and light first, and everything else that is dark recedes to the background. In general, I recommend wearing bright colors that contrast to your background.”
Shelley Golden is a professional image consultant. And that’s her giving me a Zoom Makeover: one of her services that aims to help you look better on your Zoom calls.
At the height of the pandemic, she spoke with thousands of people. Her clients include tech executives, law firms, sales professionals — anyone that wants to enhance their online presence.
But Golden isn’t alone in benefitting from the Zoom economy. As people have become self-conscious of their digital image, video studio designers, MCs, virtual background designers, and even plastic surgeons have found thriving new avenues for their businesses.
Zoom may have permanently altered in-person meetings and company travel, but it’s only increased the elusive desire to look good.
The “box” as a painting
Golden is fifth generation in the fashion and clothing business. Her great-great-grandfather made fur coats in Russia, her grandfather sold clothes off the back of a horse cart in Milwaukee, and her mother grew up working in a men’s clothing store.
It was imperative for her to look good, even at a young age: Golden’s fifth grade teacher told her mother that she was the best dressed kid in class (praise that Golden’s son would later receive from his own middle school computer teacher).
Shelley Golden studied Dutch impressionists and likes to think of Zoom images as paintings. (ShelleyGoldenStyle.com)
She followed her family vocation by becoming a stylist, helping clients identify the best colors for their body (and brand). She’s also lectured on the History of Costume in Chicago, and served as an Assistant Costume Curator at the Wellesley Historical Society.
When the pandemic began in 2020, Golden quickly realized that people were not ready for a Zoom-first world: they were taking business meetings in garages and closets, not looking their best. Just as California was about to close down, Golden ran a workshop to help people look better in their Zoom “box.” More than 200 people signed up and she ended up having to run two extra workshops.
Her Zoom makeover business was born. Golden charges $495 for two-hour sessions, counseling clients on how to tweak their posture, style, and appearance.
Others have gone even more premium: Kevin Shen founded Dream Studio to completely overhaul the video call setups for entrepreneurs and creators. His “done for you” package, which features everything from lighting guidance to personalized gear recommendations, costs $8k.
Viktor Cepeda, a gear specialist with Dream Studio, tells me that lately he’s been the busiest he’s ever been. Cepeda got his start in production a decade ago filming audition tapes for actors — and it just so happens that actors aren’t too different to the clients he works with now:
“I used to do music before I did video, so I have a jack of all trades thing going on, and I was like…this is crazy. What I’ve been doing with this weird set of skills is almost perfect at Dream Studio. And what it’s done is that it’s brought in a lot of stability for me.”
Olivia Heller/The Hustle
Golden, meanwhile, approaches her Zoom makeovers as an artist creating a painting.
She starts with the basics: set the camera at eye level. Wear a solid color that’s different from your background. Use good posture (men tend to lean back, women tend to sit up).
Just like a good painting, Golden says, the Zoom “box” should have balanced lighting hitting the subject’s face, subtly showcase the elements around the subject, and make sure there is a little bit of space above the subject’s head. And whatever is closest to the camera, she adds, appears 30% larger.
Indeed, Golden explains that much of her work involves teaching people the two-dimensional quirks of webcams. For example, she teaches Zoom-specific makeup techniques that create the illusion of defined cheekbones or a slimmer chin.
This isn’t just work, it’s dinner table talk. She proudly tells me that her son is a well dressed software engineer in San Francisco (an oxymoron) and that she recently helped expand her daughter’s wardrobe on her birthday.
Golden has an innate sense of what works. That doesn’t surprise me. But what is interesting is just how much of what she tells me is actually backed by research.
Zoom fatigue and non-verbal overload
Four years ago, philosopher Nigel Warburton tweeted: “Does anyone have a plausible theory about why Zoom, Skype, and Google Hangout meetings are so draining?” He received 63 retweets, 383 likes, and several hundred replies.
Zoom fatigue is real. (Twitter)
Warburton and many others had started to observe a phenomenon now coined Zoom fatigue — burnout caused by overuse of video conferencing.
Research has shown that one reason for Zoom fatigue is the brain’s attempt to compensate for the lack of full-body, nonverbal communication cues. Indeed, consider the fact that one of the more celebrated aspects of Zoom calls is that you technically don’t need to wear pants.
But as Stanford professor Jeremy Bailenson explains, there are consequences to this: “On Zoom, users need to work harder to send and receive signals…this constant monitoring of behavior adds up.”
Golden recognizes this and tries to combat the “floating head” (i.e. where you only see the person’s head) by teaching her clients how to sit better. She recommends that the “bottom of the Zoom box” for women comes to the bottom of their nipple line, and for men a little below.
“It’s important to see the person from head to bottom,” she says. “When people can see your head and torso, and not just your head, they can read your non-verbal body language. And it makes the comprehension easier and it’s less Zoom fatiguing.”
Another cause of Zoom fatigue is blurring your background. Golden explains that for the person staring at the blurred background, their eyes are always trying to focus.
Two years ago, Golden had an attorney in California ask her to make a virtual background. Since then, this service has gotten so popular that she doesn’t even advertise it on her website — it’s grown purely through word of mouth. This is a separate service to the Zoom Makeover, but clients often sign up for it after seeing Golden’s own virtual backgrounds.
Golden uses Canva and Photoshop to custom design these virtual backgrounds based on people’s skin tones, hair color, and business branding. For example, the below virtual background was made for a lawyer. Golden points out two elements in this background that were included with great care:
Golden showcases a background she helped create for an attorney client. (Shelley Golden)
- The law firm’s logo.
- A subliminal line all the way down from the logo to the screen, forcing one to look at the eyes.
There are two more elements, which Golden doesn’t mention, that research shows are helpful in establishing trust and competence.
Paddy Ross, an associate professor at Durham University, conducted a study on 160 people to evaluate the trustworthiness and competence of a videoconference user based on their virtual background. Respondents gave the lowest ratings for living rooms and novelty backdrops (example: a walrus in front of an iceberg). On the other hand, bookshelves and plants rated highest.
Ross explained that bookcases might have come out on top because they make you look more well-read, despite these possibly being books you’ve never picked up in your life.
“And if you remember, at the start of the pandemic, every politician was sitting in an office surrounded by as many books as possible,” he added.
More Zooms, more cosmetic surgeries
There’s also a nuclear option for people desiring to look good on camera: changing how you look. Many people have gone nuclear.
- In a 2021 online survey of 335 people who’d used videoconference technology, over 40% of respondents reported noticing a new aspect of their appearance that they disliked due to their use of video calls.
- Rhinoplasties saw a 37% increase in business at the start of the pandemic.
- In a survey of more than 100 board-certified dermatologists from across the country, more than 50% indicated a relative increase in cosmetic consultations within their practices despite the state of the pandemic.
Olivia Heller/The Hustle
And about 86% of those dermatologists reported their patients were referencing video-conferencing as a reason for their new cosmetic concerns. (The technical term for when someone perceives they’re unattractive after seeing themselves on a video call is “face dysmorphia.”)
Dr. Carolyn Chang, a San Francisco based plastic surgeon, witnessed this rise in consultations as the pandemic began.
Chang told me that Zoom showed people different angles they weren’t seeing before. She likened a pre-Zoom world similar to a changing room:
“You always subconsciously position yourself so that the clothing looks better. And so when people are looking at themselves in a mirror, they’ll raise their eyebrows, relax their mouth, move their neck — basically always seeing their best angles.”
But what Zoom did is show them what’s really there — it was a quicker identification of problems that led many to consider plastic surgery. Chang’s most popular procedures for such clients are the lower face and neck lift, and the upper lids. That’s what people see in the self-view camera on Zoom — their eyes or their neck.
Olivia Heller/The Hustle
Her clients mainly include people in middle to older age — likely individuals that are leading teams at work and don’t want to feel timed out. Others include people who have recently lost jobs and find it harder to get jobs because of their age. So what Zoom is doing is simply reinforcing how different they look to other people.
The theme of age kept coming up with both Golden and Chang. And as I pressed further, I realized that it explained a lot of the questions I still had.
A generational preference
San Francisco is the city where dress codes go to die. It’s also where plenty of developers live (including yours truly), and most of them operate on a strict camera-off policy. As I’m about to end my interview with Golden, I ask her: “Do people, especially those in the tech industry, really care that much about how they look on a Zoom call? Because I certainly never considered it that important.”
After a slight pause, she tells me that among Gen Zers, it’s popular to hold an “I don’t care” view of the world. Golden’s own daughter sometimes even takes business calls from her bed.
But Golden tells me that while this might be OK between ourselves, it doesn’t always work that way with other generations:
“The Gen Zs (and some millennials too) like to say ‘I’m OK’ because I’m modern, I’m cool, I get to do this. But everybody else looking down at them is a bit skeptical. Amongst yourselves you think you’re cool, but what happens is that once people hit 30 years old, 40 years old, 50 years old…people have a coming to, and they think they should up their game…because I want to get that position up there.”
Olivia Heller/The Hustle
Maybe someday I’ll move that Muhammad Ali poster. Or buy an artificial plant. Others might invest in a custom video studio or even a surgically lifted neck.
What’s undeniable is that the Zoom box has turned the personal public. It’s become another room in the house, and for many, investing in this new “room” makes perfect sense.
The box has also redefined the type of work many do. Golden used to only advise people on how they looked in the real world. Cepeda used to focus on filming audition tapes for budding actors. Chang’s patients hadn’t seen certain sides of themselves before Zoom. They’ve all played a part in shaping the Zoom economy.
This box has forever changed the way we communicate — except for one thing: looks still matter.
This post was originally published on here
