he outward appearance of a ruler or political leader plays a significant role in shaping their acceptability among the populace. In the realm of politics, where perceptions often hold considerable sway, the image a leader projects can influence public trust and confidence.

In countries like Pakistan, where political figures are scrutinised by a diverse and discerning population, aspects like hair transplants and cosmetic enhancements have become noteworthy. Leaders undergoing such procedures may be perceived as embodying vitality and dynamism, fostering a sense of connection with a youthful and progressive image.

For female leaders, the use of heavy makeup can be a deliberate choice to convey strength and confidence in a male-dominated political landscape. While substance and policy matter significantly, the visual presentation of a leader can serve as a powerful tool in shaping public perception and acceptance.

Notably, certain figures have taken an extra step, resorting to artificial methods to enhance their self-presentation. One such historical example is Queen Elizabeth I of England. Her strategic use of elaborate attire, carefully crafted portraits and even wigs exemplified an astute understanding of the importance of visual appeal. This practice extended beyond the norms of her time, reflecting a deliberate effort to project an image of strength, authority and regal magnificence.

In the Elizabethan era, an unmistakable hallmark of upper-class elegance was the ethereal pallor of white skin. Queen Elizabeth I, as the quintessential embodiment of 16^th Century feminine ideals, epitomised this aesthetic, her porcelain complexion symbolising both nobility and earthly perfection. However, the pursuit of such flawlessness came at a perilous cost, as Elizabeth resorted to applying lead to her face, unwittingly subjecting her body to a slow poison. The hazards did not end there; mercury found its way onto her lips, and a probable use of a mercury-based make-up remover resulted in the gradual erosion of her skin.

As a female monarch in a tumultuous era, Queen Elizabeth I faced an elevated set of standards compared to her male counterparts. Amidst the threats to her throne, particularly from Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabeth found herself constrained by the demand for flawlessness. In her relentless pursuit, she augmented her use of lead cosmetics, reportedly layering her makeup and lipstick to an astonishing inch thickness in her final days. Yet, this tale of cosmetic excess merely scratches the surface of the intricate world of Queen Elizabeth I’s makeup.

Within the confines of Elizabethan beauty standards, the paramount criterion for female allure was the coveted attribute of fair skin. Women, including Elizabeth with her smallpox scars, sought refuge in makeup to conceal skin imperfections. Elizabeth’s choice was a concoction of white lead and vinegar, bestowing upon her the signature pale visage. However, the daily application of lead came with severe repercussions, manifesting in hair loss and skin deterioration. The insidious effects of lead poisoning loomed large, potentially contributing to the eventual demise of the remarkable queen.

Beyond the lead gracing her cheeks, Elizabeth’s lip colour concealed an additional peril. Crafted from cinnabar, a hazardous mineral with mercury, the lip stain bestowed upon Elizabeth her iconic red mouth. However, the mercury infiltrated her system through her lips, inducing symptoms of poisoning, such as memory loss, irritability and depression — afflictions that reportedly plagued Elizabeth in the twilight of her life.

A preferred cosmetic in Elizabeth’s arsenal was Venetian ceruse, an amalgamation of white lead and vinegar. With this substance, the queen dusted her face and neck, creating a porcelain canvas out of her skin. Yet, lurking within ceruse were treacherous poisons absorbed by Elizabeth and her contemporaries through their skin. On the exterior, the lead insidiously corroded the queen’s visage, prompting her to apply thicker layers of makeup, reaching an astounding inch in thickness as her life drew to a close.

In the Elizabethan epoch, the nightly removal of makeup was not a norm for nobility. Following the meticulous application of lead makeup by her attendants, Elizabeth retained it for at least a week. During this period, the lead permeated her skin, resulting in a pallid and wrinkled appearance. When the queen finally underwent makeup removal, the concoction likely contained eggshells, alum and mercury — yet another perilous poison with potentially lethal consequences.

While some contemporaries claimed that the mercury make-up remover left their skin soft, the softness was a result of literal skin peeling, underscoring the dangerous lengths to which Elizabeth and her peers went for the sake of beauty.

Elizabeth contracted smallpox on October 10, 1562, succumbing to a high fever that stirred concerns among courtiers, who feared for the life of the still-young monarch. Miraculously, she survived. The aftermath of the disease manifested in enduring scars. During that era, smallpox scars were a prevalent issue, prompting individuals, including the royals like Elizabeth, to go to great lengths to conceal such imperfections.

As one of the few female monarchs in England’s history at that time, Elizabeth was acutely aware of the scrutinising eyes upon her. By 1586, now in her early 50s, Elizabeth acknowledged the weight of these expectations while addressing the parliament, emphasising the constant observation faced by rulers and the swift detection of any flaw in their appearance or actions.

In her earlier years, Elizabeth’s use of makeup had been more restrained, as she did not have smallpox scars to mask until her late 20s. Before the detrimental effects of lead make-up on her skin, it is likely that Elizabeth employed a lighter application of ceruse. Throughout her reign, a law enacted in England prohibited unflattering portraits of the queen. Artists were mandated to depict her as flawless, even as she aged into her 60s.

Consequently, portraits idealised Elizabeth’s appearance, portraying her as she desired to be perceived — robust and healthy, with pale, unblemished skin. The Darnley Portrait, created in 1575, set the standard for subsequent depictions, its portrayal of Elizabeth’s face reused by artists for decades, capturing the queen in a recognisable yet perfected image.

In the twilight of her reign, Queen Elizabeth I strove to conceal the signs of aging, yet in 1599, the Earl of Essex witnessed her without her wig and makeup, revealing a mostly bald queen with visible wrinkles. In her final months, Elizabeth, grappling with a deep melancholy, resisted medical examinations, standing for 15 hours straight before her passing on March 24, 1603.

While lead-based make-up, used for decades, likely contributed to her declining health, the exact cause of her death remains uncertain. There were claims of her body bursting due to noxious vapours. However, historians cast doubt on such accounts. Elizabeth’s doctors recommended removing her coronation ring a week before her demise, potentially causing blood poisoning. Lead make-up, known as Venetian ceruse, persisted for centuries despite its detrimental effects. Its classification as a poison occurred in 1634, decades after Elizabeth’s passing in 1603.

The writer is Professor in the faculty of Liberal Arts at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore