I'm not sure where the "study" came from, but I've tracked the statement down as best as I could.
It's from The Economist, a magazine I adore, from "Pots of promise - The beauty business." Economist, 5/24/2003, Vol. 367, Issue 8325.
I'm a big damned nerd. Ahem. Anyway, I've reproduced a few excerpts of the article below that I found interesting:
MEDIEVAL noblewomen swallowed arsenic and dabbed on bats' blood to improve their complexions; 18th-century Americans prized the warm urine of young boys to erase their freckles; Victorian ladies removed their ribs to give themselves a wasp waist. The desire to be beautiful is as old as civilisation, as is the pain that it can cause. In his autobiography, Charles Darwin noted a "universal passion for adornment", often involving "wonderfully great" suffering.
The pain has not stopped the passion from creating a $160 billion-a-year global industry, encompassing make-up, skin and hair care, fragrances, cosmetic surgery, health clubs and diet pills. Americans spend more each year on beauty than they do on education. Such spending is not mere vanity. Being pretty--or just not ugly--confers enormous genetic and social advantages. Attractive people (both men and women) are judged to be more intelligent and better in bed; they earn more, and they are more likely to marry.
Gotta say, that makes for uncomfortable reading. Young boy's urine? I think I'd rather have the damned freckles, thanks. As for pretty = advantages, I've read anthropological texts and other sociological studies that back this up though, as painful as it sounds.
The fact is that neither moral censure nor fears about safety will stop people from wanting to look better. The desire is too entrenched. An 18th-century British law proposing to allow husbands to annul marriages to wives who had trapped them with "scents, paints, artificial teeth, false hair and iron stays", had no effect on women, who continued to clamour for the latest French skin creams.
During the second world war, the American government had to reverse a decision to remove lipstick from its list of essential commodities in order to prevent a rebellion by female war workers.
The beauty business--the selling of "hope in a jar", as Charles Revson, the founder of Revlon, once called it--is as permanent as its effects are ephemeral.
Hope in a jar? Isn't that a Philosophy cream?