Vincent Colle had never heard of Korean-style facial treatments when he stumbled upon a salon in a Hong Kong shopping center. By then, an extended backpacking trip — complete with sun, dust and endless hours on public transport — had caught up with him and his girlfriend and it showed on their skin. When the treatment was over, his face slathered with a dizzying array of lotions, serums and creams, Colle marveled at the softness of his skin.
Back home in France, the couple set out to recreate the experience. In 2024, they founded Point n., a face-care bar next to the Vieux-Port in Marseille. Clients could lie side-by-side for quick facials that the store’s website likens to grabbing a coffee.
It was a small bet on a much bigger trend. K-beauty — shorthand for South Korea’s skincare and cosmetics industry, known for its "glass skin" aesthetic, layered routines and low prices — has transformed from a niche import into a mainstream competitor in Europe.
Since the end of the COVID-19 pandemic, K-beauty stores have mushroomed in nearly every European capital, while imports of Korean cosmetics products to the European Union have surged from $220 million in 2022 to $1.13 billion in 2025, according to KOTRA, the Korea Trade-Investment Promotion Agency.
“Europe is emerging as a key frontier for K‑beauty,” Andrew McDougall, strategist at London-based market research firm Mintel, told The Parliament in an email, pointing to Poland, Germany and France as the bloc’s largest consumers of the trend.
The K-beauty boom has been particularly disruptive in Poland, where cosmetics imports from South Korea doubled from €120 million to €250 million last year.
That has left European beauty brands, wary of losing market share both abroad and at home, pondering how to respond. They can double down on their European identity, or try to mimic South Korea’s fast-paced, social-media savvy business model.
“The effect on the market is very visible,” said Lidia Ziaja, vice president of Ziaja, a Polish manufacturer of personal care products. “Stores are dedicating [entire] sections to K-beauty products, which means less space for other players.”
The K-beauty machine
The European K-beauty boom has been powered by the twin forces of social media and the East Asian country’s burgeoning soft power.
K-pop and K-dramas have helped turn South Korean culture into a global export under the so-called “Hallyu,” or “Korean wave,” a Korean phrase referring to the global rise in popularity of South Korean culture. TikTok and Instagram have done the same for the country’s beauty ideals, popularizing “glass skin” and elaborate skincare routines.
Still, one factor has done more than any other to fuel the K-beauty boom: the price tag. Enthusiasts like Colle, the French entrepreneur in Marseille, argue that the combination of product effectiveness and accessible pricing is just too potent for consumers to resist.
McDougall points to Germany as a case study, where “ongoing cost pressure makes value for money central,” — so much so that “even more skeptical consumers show curiosity if trust, local availability and compelling value are established.”
Keeping prices affordable is at the heart of the K-beauty machine. “This is a fast cosmetic industry, it’s a push market,” said Florence Bernardin, a French expert in Asian beauty trends and the founder of consultancy Cosme Lab. To her, K-beauty’s business model is similar to that of hyper-fast fashion brands such as Chinese e-commerce platform Shein: fierce domestic competition, economies of scale and locally sourced ingredients all contribute to keeping prices low.
And yet the rise of K-beauty in Europe wasn’t entirely organic. According to Bernardin, South Korean companies began pursuing alternative export markets more aggressively after China, once a key export destination, restricted trade during the pandemic.
“K-beauty is a very strong pillar of the Korean economy today and they need to export it,” she said. Last year, the South Korean beauty and personal care sector was worth an estimated $13.66 billion, with some projections placing it at $18 billion by the end of the decade.
In a show of just how central the sector has become to the country’s prosperity, South Korean President Lee Jae Myung has touted it as one of the country’s key growth engines. In 2025, the government began rolling out export subsidies, overseas marketing programs and export consortiums to help SMEs reach foreign buyers directly. It also called for the launch of regional export hubs to host exhibitions, product experiences and showcases. In April 2025, Seoul launched a 40 billion won (about €26 million) K-Beauty Fund to invest in domestic beauty-tech startups and invited 2,800 foreign content creators to South Korea, aiming to turn social media reach into cultural and commercial influence.
Korean vs. French beauty
K-beauty is rooted in the belief that healthy skin, rather than makeup, provides a natural glow. But there’s a catch: getting — and maintaining — that plump, youthful skin requires a carefully curated regimen of at least seven products, including rice-water toners and overnight sheet masks.
The approach is a far cry from the beauty philosophy many European consumers grew up with: find a handful of products that work and stick with them.
To Bernardin, the difference reflects the outsized role beauty plays in South Korean society.
“In Korea, to be successful in life, you have two main ways: one is to have good study levels; the other is to be beautiful,” she said.
While Europe may not have the same cultural pressure to pursue flawless skin, retailers are betting the appetite for K-beauty won’t fade anytime soon.
French beauty giant Sephora introduced Korean products in 2019 when it began stocking Laneige, a brand known for its leave-on overnight moisturizing lip masks. Recently, smaller French retailer Oh My Cream! introduced a dedicated Asian beauty category online and in stores across France, Belgium and the United Kingdom.
In December 2024, French cosmetics group L'Oréal Groupe acquired a South Korean conglomerate which included the brand Dr.G, arguing it would complement its portfolio while staying true to its mission of “democratizing beauty.”
That same year, as Colle was about to launch his beauty venture, South Korea overtook France as the top cosmetics exporter to the United States. And while France still wears the crown as the world’s largest cosmetics exporter, the gap is narrowing fast, McDougall said.
A sense of anxiety is already creeping into the industry, due in part to a slight decline in French cosmetics exports last year. FEBEA, or the Fédération des Entreprises de la Beauté, the French federation of beauty enterprises, warned that even a small drop is "unprecedented," given the sector had typically grown 7% annually. Over the same period, Asian imports into France rose 6%.
Europe’s legacy beauty brands have responded in part by turning their attention to another source of competitive pressure: regulation. They argue Europe’s regulatory burden is making it harder to invest at a time when Asian competitors are moving at full speed.
“The beauty industry is already a global leader when it comes to sustainable innovation, yet we are currently being forced to spend up to 70% of our R&D budgets on reformulation and compliance,” said Nicolas Hieronimus, CEO of L’Oréal Groupe, in a press statement issued last March. The statement was part of the Value of Beauty Alliance, an initiative intended to draw Brussels’ attention to the future of Europe’s beauty industry.
At Ziaja, 90% of the company’s 1,200 products will have to be relabeled or reformulated, the Polish manufacturer said.
“The effect this has on the competitiveness of EU cosmetic manufacturers is the same as if we’re invited to take part in the car race but with a handbrake pressed,” Ziaja said.
Europe fights back
For now, France retains one formidable advantage. Experts like Bernardin reckon the hype of K-beauty won’t dissuade luxury consumers from splurging on signature brands such as Chanel and Lancôme. French cosmetics exports totaled $23.25 billion in 2024, compared to South Korea’s $10.2 billion, data from Mintel showed.
Yet, Bernardin acknowledged a greater threat might lie in “dermcare” — skincare brands sold through pharmacies typically at prices below luxury cosmetics but above K-beauty staples.
She also noted that most Korean products only target young men and women aged 20-25. “There are no 30-year-old products,” she said, suggesting that consumers currently hooked on K-beauty may at some point revert to French brands for stronger, but pricier, anti-aging products.
McDougall sees a different challenge. “French brands can respond by doubling down on what consumers reward: ingredient transparency and science-led efficacy messaging.” Another option, he said, would be to “adapt to K‑beauty’s operating model: faster innovation cycles and digital-first storytelling, because that formula is explicitly highlighted as hard to replicate."
In Marseille, Colle is confident he made the right investment.
“The trend will probably keep rising and perhaps plateau, but I don’t think it will decline,” he said. “K-beauty is just too effective.”
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