Why Are Singapore's Men Investing in Skincare, and How Can In-Depth Interviews Tell Us What They Really Want?
Etude House reported a tenfold increase in men's product sales between 2013 and 2016, and multi-brand retailer escentials notes that male customers now spend between $150 and $250 per visit, not far behind women's $250 to $400. Brands rushing to serve this market face a fundamental problem: they understand that men are buying skincare, but not why certain products resonate while others gather dust. A survey tells you 43% of Singaporeans purchase skincare quarterly. It cannot tell you about the quiet embarrassment a 28-year-old feels asking a female friend for product recommendations, or the specific moment a man decides his appearance affects his career prospects.
This is where qualitative research becomes essential.
Singapore's beauty and personal care market is projected to reach USD 1,365 million by 2033. According to the Ministry of Trade and Industry, Singapore's beauty services industry generates approximately S$2 billion in operating receipts and has been expanding at more than 10% year-on-year. This growth isn't gender-neutral. Male-focused segments are outpacing overall market expansion, driven by what Straits Times interviews reveal: men spending around SGD100 monthly on skincare, including BB creams to cover pimples and scars.
The Korean beauty influence runs deep here. In a Rakuten Insight survey, 36% of Singapore respondents using K-beauty products said such items made up 25-50% of their beauty collection. The Face Shop even launched a specialized product addressing a uniquely Singaporean pain point: camouflage creams for National Service men experiencing skin irritation during jungle training exercises. This intersection of military culture and skincare innovation illustrates something we believe is worth investigating—how masculinity frameworks in Singapore are being quietly renegotiated through consumer behavior.
The Health Sciences Authority maintains a comprehensive listing of notified cosmetic products, suggesting regulatory infrastructure that supports market growth. Meanwhile, Enterprise Singapore's Centre of Innovation for Beauty and Personal Care at Singapore Polytechnic actively supports SMEs and startups in R&D—indicating government recognition of the sector's economic potential.
If we were designing a study for a brand entering this space, we'd structure our inquiry around different stakeholder perspectives:
For the Male Consumer:
What specific life moment triggered your first conscious skincare purchase? Was it a comment from someone, an image you saw, or a bodily change you noticed?
How do you navigate the language of skincare—terms like "serum," "essence," "toner"—when much of it feels coded feminine?
Where do you actually learn about products? And crucially, where do you not look because it feels socially awkward?
For Partners and Peers:
How do women in these men's lives perceive and potentially enable their skincare journeys?
Among male friend groups, is skincare discussed openly, or does it operate as a kind of open secret?
For Retail Staff and Brand Ambassadors:
What language and framing seems to work when engaging male customers versus what creates visible discomfort?
How do physical store layouts help or hinder male browsing behavior?
The Qualitative Approach
Method Selection
In-Depth Interviews (IDIs): We'd recommend one-on-one interviews lasting 60-75 minutes each. The subject matter—masculinity, appearance anxiety, social acceptance—is too sensitive for group settings where performance and posturing would contaminate the data. Men discussing their bathroom routines need privacy to be honest about insecurities and aspirations.
Mobile Ethnography Diaries: Complementing IDIs, we'd deploy a week-long diary study where participants photograph their morning and evening routines, screenshot products they're researching, and voice-note their reactions to beauty content they encounter. This captures behavior as it happens rather than retrospective rationalization.
Participant Targeting
We wouldn't recruit simply "men aged 25-45." Instead, we'd build behavioral archetypes:
The Reluctant Adopter: Has basic products (cleanser, moisturizer) but feels slightly embarrassed about it. Purchases in private or online.
The K-Beauty Convert: Follows Korean skincare philosophy, comfortable with multi-step routines, often introduced through K-drama or K-pop content.
The NS Pragmatist: Started skincare because of genuine skin problems during National Service (sun damage, camo cream irritation) and continued out of habit.
The Career Optimizer: Views skincare as professional maintenance, similar to gym membership or wardrobe investment.
Uncovering Insights
The art of these conversations lies in listening for what's not said. When a participant says "I guess I started because my skin was bad," we probe the emotional texture: What specifically felt bad about it? Who noticed? What did you imagine people thought? The silences and redirections often reveal more than fluent answers.
Actionable Tools
To make this research actionable for brand strategists, we've developed two conceptual frameworks:
Tool 1: The Male Skincare Permission Structure
Male Skincare Permission Structure
1. Problem Legitimization
"I have a specific issue to fix" — Acne, sun damage, NS skin problems. Skincare framed as solution, not vanity.
2. Social Sanction
"Others like me do this" — Seeing male influencers, K-pop idols, or colleagues normalizes behavior.
3. Functional Framing
"This is maintenance, not beautification" — Language of hygiene and performance, not beauty.
4. Routine Integration
"It's just part of my morning" — Habituated behavior requiring no justification.
Tool 2: Projective Technique—"The Bathroom Cabinet Portrait"
Projective Technique: Bathroom Cabinet Portrait
"Show me your space as if I dropped by unannounced."
"Walk me through what's here and how each item earned its spot."
"Is there anything that doesn't live here? Where does it stay instead?"
"If money were no object, what would you add?"
Conclusion
The rise of male skincare in Singapore is a window into evolving masculinities, the cultural ripple effects of Korean soft power, and the ways consumer products become vehicles for identity work. Brands that succeed won't be those with the cleverest formulations alone, but those that genuinely understand the emotional architecture beneath the purchase.
If you are ready to uncover more about such insights, let us have a conversation. You can also write to our Research Lead, Felicia at felicia@assembled.sg or give us a call at +65 8118 1048.
