Li Jiaqi’s Hot‑Pot Powder Rescue Goes Viral, Spotlighting China’s Matte‑Skin Craze and Influencer Power

Within minutes, the moment was clipped, captioned and uploaded to Weibo, where it ignited the hashtag #李佳琦不允许任何人脸是油的 (“Li Jiaqi doesn’t allow anyone’s face to be oily”). Netizens seized on the absurdity of a beauty influencer treating a hot‑pot gathering like a backstage runway, dubbing the scene a “salvation” of matte skin and riffing on the phrase in countless jokes. One post read, “Li Jiaqi doesn’t allow anyone’s face to be oily – I laughed my head off, who else felt the rescue when he suddenly pulled out a powder compact?” Others expanded the meme, joking that if Li were in charge of more than makeup, “no one would be allowed a protruding belly.”

The episode is a textbook illustration of how a single on‑screen gesture can crystallise an influencer’s brand personality and ripple through popular culture. Li Jiaqi, who rose to fame selling lipsticks and foundations on platforms such as Taobao and Douyin, has built a reputation for an almost compulsive dedication to flawless makeup. His instinct to reach for a compact mid‑meal underscores a professional reflex that fans both admire and find hilariously over the top. The reaction has been overwhelmingly positive; comments celebrate his “professional reflex” and the comic contrast between his usual “loudspeaker” persona and the subdued demeanor he adopts around actress Jin Jing, a fellow celebrity noted for drawing a quieter side from him.

Beyond the laughs, the meme highlights broader currents in China’s beauty market. The phrase “no oily face” taps into a prevailing consumer preference for matte, oil‑controlled skin—a trend that drives product development toward mattifying primers, oil‑absorbing powders and long‑lasting foundations. When a figure with Li’s reach endorses—or in this case, enforces—a particular aesthetic, manufacturers rush to align their launches with the expectation that shoppers will chase that flawless, non‑shiny finish. The incident also exemplifies the power of key opinion leaders (KOLs) in shaping purchasing habits; a single on‑air gesture can translate into spikes in sales for the featured products and steer brand strategies toward meeting that matte ideal.

However, the light‑hearted meme also reflects a more serious cultural undercurrent. By framing oily skin as something to be instantly corrected, the narrative reinforces a beauty standard that equates shine with imperfection. For many consumers, especially young women who constitute the bulk of Li’s audience, such standards can exacerbate anxiety about appearance and fuel a relentless pursuit of perfection. The meme’s rapid spread suggests that the desire for a flawless, oil‑free complexion is not merely a personal preference but a socially reinforced expectation, amplified by the immediacy of live commerce and influencer endorsement.

Economically, the ripple effect is palpable. Influencers like Li Jiaqi command audiences that can translate into billions of yuan in sales during a single livestream, and a viral moment such as this can boost demand for specific product categories, reshaping market share between domestic and international brands. The growing influence of KOLs has already attracted the attention of Chinese regulators, who are tightening rules around advertising claims and consumer protection to ensure that influencers do not make unsubstantiated promises or exploit vulnerable audiences.

In short, what began as a spontaneous powder‑compact rescue during a hot‑pot dinner has morphed into a cultural touchstone that encapsulates the intertwined worlds of Chinese internet humor, beauty standards, and the formidable economic clout of livestream e‑commerce. Li Jiaqi’s refusal to let anyone’s face stay oily is as much a meme as it is a mirror, reflecting both the playful side of celebrity culture and the deeper, market‑driven forces that shape how millions of Chinese consumers define—and strive for—their ideal look.