Gross and Uncool: Analyzing Acne Portrayal in Children’s Cartoons


By Jason Yu ‘25

Eight years on, I still remember jamming out to the theme song of my favorite cartoon: Oggy and the Cockroaches—10-year-old me vibing to the blend of electronic synth waves, quirky cat whistles, and that irresistibly catchy melody—and mocking the cats while the cockroaches caused chaos in the background.

Children’s media, particularly cartoons, significantly influence kids’ upbringing. Children observe and adapt to make sense of the world around them; their psyches mature as they turn outwards toward the media and society at large to establish manners, emotions, and identity. However, while cartoons may seem innocent on the surface, they are not without their flaws. Screenwriters, sometimes at the expense of accurately representing real-life situations such as cystic acne, can overdo dramatics and comedic effects.

When it comes to portraying acne, few cartoons do so, and within that pool, the topic usually winds up mishandled. Despite representing a common stage of life, the experience of having acne is often oversimplified and steeped in negativity.

In Spongebob Squarepants, Pearl is desperate to get rid of a single barnacle, a discoloration that closely resembles acne, forming on her left cheek the eve before the school dance. Mr. Krabs describes the purple blemish as “evil,” while a classmate calls it “hideous.” Determined to “fix” Pearl’s barnacle problem, Spongebob first enlists a spatula, prying the barnacle with brute force. When it snaps in half, he brings out a shovel. In the following scene, Spongebob—now equipped with goggles, gloves, and a hard hat—resorts to a jackhammer, but it similarly works to no avail. Spongebob ultimately resolves to hide the barnacle with jewels, and Pearl happily heads off to the school dance.

The characters’ antagonistic language reinforces the notion that acne is repulsive or physically unattractive. Spongebob’s initial view of the barnacle as a “fixable” problem undermines the experience of having acne—resolving the often genetic condition takes time. Spongebob’s over-the-top measures and masking of Pearl’s barnacles suggest that acne should be hidden rather than accepted.

In Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Michelangelo (Mikey) develops “shellacne” upon applying a batch of “retromutagen” labeled “super cool” on his skin. Unbeknownst to him, the label referred to retromutagen’s storage temperature; the liquid was lethal. As Mikey bashes into the room, the camera abruptly focuses in. “Ugh, gross!” Eyes wide, Mikey’s peers recoil in disgust. Mikey's face is covered in “zits.” Donatello calms Mikey, light-heartedly adding that the bumps don't interfere with making breakfast. Then, however, Donatello places a firm hand on Mikey's shoulder, with the mood suddenly shifting as he rises, looming ominously over Mikey, the zits “will continue to spread all over your body, spreading and spreading and spreading and spreading...into one single, huge, giant, gargantuan zit!” As the word “zit” reverberates, Mikey, in denial, looks up and cries in agony, apprehensive of what may come. Three hours—that’s all he has to live. Typical of such cartoon narrative structures, the gang springs into action, defeating the Dogpound to obtain a centrifuge and create a cure. After his treatment, Mikey jumps up and ecstatically strikes poses, declaring himself “super cute” again.

The irony and distinction between the “super cool” serum and being “super cute” with the consequence of pimples reaffirm the trope of acne as being inherently uncool. The immediate negative reactions from the other turtles, coupled with the emphasis on the pimples’ potential size and the depiction of acne as an explosive, only further exaggerate acne as being undesirable.

It’s difficult to notice the subtle negative undertones of acne portrayal in children’s cartoons. Pearl’s and Mikey’s insecurities serve as merely plot devices, their struggles overshadowed by the comedic and action elements of the main storyline. By the end of each episode, all seems to be resolved: Pearl skips along to the dance, and Mikey’s cuteness is restored.

Coming to terms with redness and acne is no elegant process. The inclusion of such tropes in cartoons only deepens the stigma, suggesting to children that these natural skin conditions must be remedied. However, if acne is a natural part of our lives, why not embrace it? By portraying acne less dramatically and with more sympathy, children’s media could help foster self-acceptance rather than shame.

TMP Editorial Board