In pictures: the controversial ‘betel nut beauties’ of Taiwan

Constanze Han’s earliest memories of Taiwan are the long drives her family would take to visit her grandfather in the countryside. In the late 90s, the highway that stretched from Taipei in the north to the agricultural plains in the south was lined with betel nut stalls – small, brightly lit glass booths twinkling with neon signage. Inside, young women dressed in lingerie or cosplay costumes would sit and wait for vehicles to pull up, before running out to interact with the drivers. 

As a child, Han would gaze wide-eyed at these girls, and press her parents about them. Initially dismissive of her questioning, they eventually gave in and explained that these women were “betel nut beauties”, hired to sell betel nuts – the fruit of a palm plant chewed as a stimulant. While the consumption of betel nuts is popular in many parts of Asia, particularly among long-haul truck drivers, hiring betel nut beauties to attract customers emerged as a distinctly Taiwanese phenomenon in the 1960s.

“The lights, colours and outfits really made you feel like a spectator driving through an interactive show,” Han tells Dazed, recollecting those vivid impressions from childhood. “They were so fascinating and visually powerful that the image of the betel nut beauties never went away. When I became a photographer, it was always at the back of my mind that this was something I wanted to photograph.”

Now in her thirties and working as a documentary and portrait photographer in New York, Han returned to Taiwan in August 2022 to do just that. The result is her intimate and inquisitive photo series, The Betel Nut Beauties (Bing Lang Xi Shi), the first instalment in an ongoing body of work about Taiwanese culture. 

“I didn’t go back to Taiwan for over a decade, and during that time, I felt confused about the meaning of Taiwanese identity. Even as part of the Taiwanese diaspora, my own understanding of Taiwanese culture outside of food and politics felt very limited,” Han explains. “It felt like Taiwan was only ever in the international media for its position as a bargaining chip in the power struggle between China and the US. So I went back for a summer with a desire to photograph things that felt specific to Taiwan – intimate things, peculiar things, and the betel nut beauties were the first.” 

“It was always at the back of my mind that this was something I wanted to photograph... So I went back for a summer with a desire to photograph things that felt specific to Taiwan – intimate things, peculiar things, and the betel nut beauties were the first” – Constanze Han

Han hired a driver and set off on the same roads she’d travelled down as a kid, intending to spend time with and photograph the betel nut beauties at work. As with all her documentary projects, which have taken her from Mexico to Honduras and Cuba in recent years, she wanted to photograph them in a way that was “nonjudgmental and immersive”. But during the first week of her trip, she was struck by the marked absence of betel nut beauties on the roadsides. “I had expected to walk right into my memories and see betel nut beauties everywhere, but this just wasn’t the case,” she recalls. “There were far fewer betel nut stalls overall, and a lot of them were operated by middle-aged male attendants or their family members.”

The reasons for the decline in betel nut beauties, Han found, were complex. “It’s best broken down into a stigma against betel nuts and a stigma against the women themselves, many of whom are from underprivileged backgrounds,” she reflects. In the early 2000s, growing research into betel nut consumption revealed associated health risks, such as mouth ulcers and cancer, while environmental issues from the upsurge of betel nut planting were also brought to light. As Han contends: “These are all valid issues, of course, but as health and environmental concerns arose, it was the betel nut beauties who faced the harshest judgement from society and the strictest regulations from the government.” 

In 2002, local governments in Taiwan started to impose laws concerning the dress code of betel nut beauties, prohibiting the wearing of overly revealing clothes. In some areas, girls could be fined for showing cleavage or midriffs. Debates arose about how much skin was too much skin, and whether this marketing technique was exploitative or empowering – an example of objectification, or about the right to capitalise on one’s own image. 

It was important to Han to learn more about the women working the stalls today. In speaking to the beauties, she wasn’t surprised to learn that many are just doing their best to make ends meet. “It really is just a job, and the sexy clothing they wear is just a uniform,” she says. “I think what surprised me was that some of the girls quite liked the work, and enjoyed the autonomy of working alone. Most of them said that their customers were quite nice – usually men who seemed lonely and wanted a little conversation. Most also said they rarely felt creeped out or in danger.”

Han spent a memorable afternoon in a park in Taoyuan chatting to an 18-year-old woman named Mong Shuan. “Orphaned as a child, she started working at 15, first as a waitress at a hostess bar, then as a package handler. She even explored webcam work for its higher income potential, but found selling betel nuts to be the most consistent and stable option,” Han relays. “She’s earning the money she needs to go to beauty school.” 

While selling betel nuts is a means to an end for someone like Mong Shuan, Han met others who aspired towards owning their own stalls and working for themselves. There were also those who marketed their services online and produced merch – key chains and ashtrays adorned with selfies.

“From what I’ve experienced, rather than loud condemnations, disapproval comes in the form of silent judgement – especially when it comes to women, and women wearing scanty clothing” – Constanze Han

In response to the lingering controversy around the practice, Han’s intention was never to arrive at any kind of judgement. Her images are more about providing a visual record of a tradition that might eventually phase out, and capturing a phenomenon that is “at once so uniquely Taiwanese, and also a bit of a strange contradiction within Taiwanese culture”. 

“Taiwan is a pretty tolerant place, and it’s been praised for its progressive legislations, like 2019’s legalisation of same-sex marriage. But I feel like the culture is, broadly speaking, still pretty quiet, restrained, and conservative,” she explains. “From what I’ve experienced, rather than loud condemnations, disapproval comes in the form of silent judgement – especially when it comes to women, and women wearing scanty clothing. So it always seemed a little unreal that this practice occurred so openly and in broad daylight.”

While Han’s focus is now on her upcoming photobook, which explores nail culture globally, she intends to return to Taiwan in the near future, continuing to use childhood memories as a starting point “to understand and document things that feel distinctly Taiwanese”. 

Follow Constanze Han on Instagram for updates on this ongoing series.