Team Ulta: Why I'm Betting on the Retailer Everyone's Mad At Right Now

By Renata Lynette

The internet is furious with Ulta Beauty.

Three million people entered a queue for 3,000 tickets to Ulta Beauty World 2026. That's a 1,000:1 ratio—Taylor Swift numbers for a beauty convention. When tickets sold out within an hour on January 21st, the backlash was immediate and pointed.

On Reddit, Diamond status members—Ulta's highest loyalty tier, customers spending $1,200 or more annually—reported receiving no email notification about the event. On TikTok, Ulta employees claimed they weren't informed about the convention, received no early access, and got no employee discount on tickets. A Change.org petition now circulates demanding Ulta create separate conventions for influencers and loyal customers.

"Influencers that already get massive amounts of PR got even more free stuff while normal customers for all those brands didn't even get a chance," one TikTok user posted.

When Visit San Antonio released a statement about the inaugural 2025 event, they described it as "a limited-ticket event for their social media followers."

Not customers. Followers.

I'm a Diamond member. I don't recall receiving any correspondence about Ulta Beauty World. Not an email. Not an app notification. Nothing.

Which raises a question worth sitting with: was this always meant to be an influencer event that Ulta simply didn't communicate clearly? Is the backlash... part of the strategy? Bad press is still press. Three million people in a queue generates headlines. The discourse itself becomes marketing.

If that's the calculus, it's a dangerous one. Because the short-term buzz comes at the cost of long-term trust. And trust, once eroded, doesn't rebuild through viral moments.

But I also want to say something to my fellow customers: we have a responsibility here too.

The beauty community's response has been loud—and some of it has been unhinged. Dramatic exits. Boycott threats. The kind of reactivity that doesn't serve anyone. We can be disappointed without being destructive. We can advocate for better without abandoning logic, critical thinking, and emotional management.

Ulta made a choice that prioritized influencer reach over customer relationship. That's worth naming. But the response isn't to burn it down—it's to articulate clearly what we need and adjust accordingly. Corporations respond to sustained, specific feedback. They don't respond to tantrums.

So yes, this is what happens when a brand confuses awareness with relationship. When reach becomes the metric that matters more than retention. When the people who actually spend $1,200 a year at your stores find out about a major brand event through videos posted by out-of-state content creators after it's already over.

And yet—I'm Team Ulta.

Not because of what they're doing. Because of what they could do. Because underneath the PR missteps and the influencer-first event strategy, there's infrastructure no other beauty retailer can match. The question is whether leadership has the conviction to use it.

The Corporate Landscape: What Ulta Is Working With

Before I explain why I'm bullish on a company that's currently trending for all the wrong reasons, let's look at what they actually have.

With over 1,400 stores across all 50 states, approximately 58,000 employees, and $11.3 billion in net sales for fiscal 2024, Ulta operates at a scale that dwarfs most specialty retailers. Its loyalty program—now exceeding 44 million active members with a target of 50 million by 2028—creates a relationship infrastructure that Sephora's points system can't match in practical value.

But the most undervalued asset in that portfolio is this: nearly every Ulta location houses a full-service salon within approximately 950 square feet of dedicated space.

That's not a side business. That's a relationship engine hiding in plain sight.

According to Statista's 2025 data, Ulta ranked as Gen Z's second-favorite destination for in-store beauty shopping. Teenagers discovering beauty for the first time wander the same aisles as mothers replenishing their staples. Emerging makeup artists browse prestige brands steps away from drugstore favorites.

Kecia Steelman, who became CEO in January 2025 after a decade in operations leadership, seems to understand something important. At BeautyMatter's FUTURE50 Summit, she articulated what she calls Ulta's "secret weapon": culture.

"We always say, 'Culture eats strategy for breakfast,'" Steelman noted. "It's not just a phrase on the wall. It's how we lead every day... If we're not investing in our people, we're missing the mark."

The instinct is right. The execution—as Beauty World demonstrated—hasn't caught up yet.

Ulta added 20,000 in-person events for 2025, bringing their total to 70,000 experiential activations across stores. They clearly understand that physical retail lives or dies on human connection. Eighty percent of their sales volume still comes from brick-and-mortar stores.

So the infrastructure exists. The leadership language exists. The customer base exists—44 million loyalty members who've already raised their hands and said I choose you.

The disconnect is in prioritization. And that disconnect is costing them trust at exactly the moment when trust is the scarcest resource in beauty.

The Awareness-Trust Gap: Why This Moment Matters

Here's where the industry keeps getting it wrong: conflating influence with trust.

Influencers create awareness. They're extraordinarily effective at it—the global influencer marketing industry is projected to reach $32.55 billion in 2025. A single viral video can move more product in 24 hours than a department store counter might sell in a month.

But awareness is not trust. And trust is the currency that actually matters in categories where outcomes are personal—hair, skin, services that change how you see yourself in the mirror.

The data tells the story of a growing credibility crisis. According to the National Advertising Division's 2025 Influencer Trust Index, only 11% of influencers properly disclose sponsored content per FTC guidelines. When they fail to disclose, 37% of consumers report feeling "deceived."

Meanwhile, Euromonitor's 2025 Voice of the Consumer survey found that 45% of luxury beauty shoppers are now influenced by medical professionals when choosing products—up from 40% in 2024. Kyra's State of Beauty 2024/25 report revealed that among Gen Z consumers, "expert creators"—dermatologists, makeup artists, aestheticians—most influence beauty purchases, driving decisions for 36% of respondents.

The generation that grew up on TikTok is actively seeking credentialed expertise.

The hashtag isn't building the relationship. In-person expertise is what consumers are hungry for.

This is why the Beauty World situation matters beyond the immediate PR problem. It's a philosophical tell. Ulta chose influencer reach over customer relationship. They optimized for content creation over connection. They built an event designed to generate millions in earned media value and 40 million TikTok impressions—and in doing so, told their most loyal customers exactly where they stand in the priority hierarchy.

The inaugural San Antonio event was hosted by Mikayla Nogueira, a TikTok influencer with 16.6 million followers who built her platform posting videos about her job at Ulta before leaving to pursue content creation. Within 48 hours of the event, #UltaBeauty was trending on TikTok, reached 40 million users, and gained Ulta 50,000 new followers.

Impressive metrics. But here's what those metrics don't capture: the Diamond member who's been loyal since the program launched and found out about the event after it ended. The longtime customer who took time off work hoping to attend and discovered tickets were gone before they knew sales had started. The erosion of trust that happens when your most valuable customers realize they're not actually valued.

This is the awareness-trust gap made manifest.

What People Actually Miss (And What Ulta Could Offer)

When beauty content gets nostalgic—the glossy brown lips, the frosted eyeshadow, the endless throwback tutorials—what people are actually longing for isn't a product. It's a feeling.

A time when beauty knowledge was passed down through conversation rather than consumed through content. When artistry was learned on real faces, through demonstration and dialogue, in spaces designed for human connection. When the relationship between brand and consumer didn't begin with a targeted ad but at the counter, where a skilled professional could look at your skin, understand your life, and guide you toward something that actually worked.

That era worked because it invested in people.

Artists were trained, not just hired. Product knowledge was cultivated over years, not crammed into a two-day onboarding session. The counter was a school, a community, a career path.

This is the inheritance the beauty industry has largely squandered. And it's the opportunity that Ulta—more than Sephora, more than department stores, more than any other retailer—is positioned to reclaim.

The Sephora versus Ulta debate usually comes down to prestige versus accessibility, exclusives versus rewards, aesthetic versus value. But that framing misses the forest for the trees.

Sephora is excellent at what it does. The curation is impeccable. The in-store experience is polished. The brand relationships are strong. But what Sephora does is, fundamentally, what luxury retail has always done—it just does it very well.

Ulta has the infrastructure for something that doesn't exist yet.

One of these retailers has salons. The other never will.

The Salon Opportunity No One's Talking About

The salon industry is in crisis.

Burnout is endemic. According to industry data, roughly 30-35% of stylists leave their position within the first two years, with a noticeable spike after the third year when exhaustion peaks. Salon Spa Connection's 2024 research noted that independent professionals who go into booth rental too early in their careers are burning out at alarming rates—and predicts growth for structured salon environments in 2024-2025 as stylists seek stability.

The pattern is clear: talented professionals are leaving the industry not because they've lost their skill or passion, but because the business model breaks them. Long hours. Income instability. The constant hustle of building and maintaining a clientele while managing every aspect of a business they never trained to run.

What these stylists need isn't another suite rental opportunity. They need what Ulta could offer: a landing place.

Imagine an Ulta salon experience reimagined as a destination for seasoned professionals—stylists with 10, 15, 20 years of expertise who want to focus on craft rather than bookkeeping. Salon owners who've spent decades building businesses and want to transition into mentorship roles without walking away from the chair entirely. Colorists, texture specialists, and service artists who could bring genuine authority to a retail environment that desperately needs it.

This isn't about entry-level staffing. It's about creating career pathways that attract talent at a different stage—and in doing so, transforming what the salon-retail hybrid could mean.

The Client Experience Gap

Walk into most Ulta stores today and the experience is... fine.

The product range is impressive. The prices are accessible. The rewards program is genuinely valuable—and frankly, better than Sephora's in practical terms. As someone who has ordered from both retailers in an operations capacity, I see value in each. But Ulta's points translate to real dollars. That matters.

But the human element? Inconsistent at best.

Here's what I actually encounter when I walk through an Ulta:

No expert-level help. You can wander the skincare section for twenty minutes without anyone approaching who can explain the difference between niacinamide and hyaluronic acid, let alone assess your skin and make a recommendation. The expertise simply isn't on the floor in most locations.

Products aren't stocked. This is maddening. You drive to the store because you want the product today, and the shelf is empty. The supply chain and inventory management issues undercut the entire value proposition of physical retail.

The pseudo-MAC experience. I see what they're trying to do in some locations—recreate that counter energy, that sense of artistry and event. I get it. I understand exactly what they're reaching for. But it's not the time, place, or vibe. The consumer has changed. The context has changed. We have to build that magic differently now.

Compare this to what BeautyMatter's 2025 State of Play retail roundtable surfaced: Millie Kendall, CEO of the British Beauty Council, observed that "we need to make the shop floor aspirational again. In the '90s, it was the best job you could have. Today, it's less welcoming. That needs to change."

The same is true for Ulta's salon floors. When they work, they work beautifully—skilled stylists building genuine relationships with repeat clients, creating the kind of trust that no influencer campaign can manufacture. But the experience is uneven across locations, and the broader integration between salon and retail remains largely untapped.

The consultation opportunity. A client booking a color service should be seamlessly connected to haircare product recommendations by the same professional who just spent two hours understanding their hair. This happens sometimes. It should happen systematically.

The education gap. Consumers are desperate for expertise—the Kyra research proves it. But how often does an Ulta associate have the training to truly guide a skincare routine, or explain why one technique works better than another for a specific concern?

The career invisibility. Most customers have no idea that Ulta's stylists are tiered by experience level, or that a Master Stylist represents years of advanced training. This isn't communicated as a value proposition—it's buried in the booking flow.

These aren't impossible problems. They're design problems. Culture problems. Investment problems.

The Cécred Opportunity

Here's something that keeps me up at night: Ulta has Cécred in their salons.

Beyoncé's haircare line. One of the most influential Black women on the planet chose Ulta as her salon partner. This is a cultural moment sitting right there, and I'm not sure the company fully understands what they're holding.

Cécred isn't just another prestige brand. It's a statement about texture, about care, about the specific needs of Black women's hair. It's Beyoncé saying this matters. And Ulta has it exclusively in their salon spaces.

What could this become?

A genuine relationship with Black women. Not performative diversity initiatives, but actual product availability, texture expertise on the floor, stylists trained in protective styles and natural hair care. The infrastructure to say: we see you, we understand your hair, we have what you need—and it's in stock.

A template for cultural partnership. Cécred could be the proof of concept for how Ulta builds brand relationships differently than Sephora. Not just shelf space, but integration. Education. Events. Community.

A bridge between celebrity and expertise. Beyoncé brings the awareness. But the follow-through has to be stylists who can actually deliver on what the brand promises. This is where artistry education becomes essential.

Right now, I don't see Ulta capitalizing on this relationship. And that's a missed opportunity—not just for sales, but for trust with a consumer segment that has been underserved by beauty retail for decades.

Bridging Influencers and Professionals

The beauty industry has created a false binary: influencers OR professionals. Awareness OR expertise. Content OR craft.

But what if there was a bridge?

Ulta is uniquely positioned to build it. Here's what that could look like:

Guest artist appearances in-store. Not just brand reps doing demos, but working professionals—editorial artists, session stylists, colorists with real portfolios—doing masterclasses, consultations, and live demonstrations. Create events worth showing up for.

Affiliate programming for pros. Let professional artists earn commission on products they recommend to clients. This already happens informally—artists telling clients "go to Ulta and get this." Formalize it. Track it. Reward it.

Pro memberships with real value. Gratis programs. Early access to launches. Professional pricing tiers. The kind of relationship that MAC built with artists in its heyday, updated for how professionals actually work now.

A creator-to-credential pathway. What if the influencer who built an audience doing tutorials could level up through actual artistry training—and Ulta was the place that offered it? Turn content creators into certified professionals. Give the expertise a platform.

This bridges the awareness-trust gap. Influencers drive discovery. Professionals deliver results. Ulta could be the place where both live—and where one can become the other.

And here's the thing about Ulta Beauty World: it could have been exactly this kind of bridge. An event where loyal customers meet the professionals and creators they admire. Where the lines between influencer and expert blur in service of shared passion. Where the 44 million loyalty members feel like they belong as much as the content creators with millions of followers.

Instead, it became another example of prioritizing reach over relationship.

Education Across Every Chair

When I talk about artistry education, I don't mean product training modules that employees click through in a back room.

I mean technique. Consultation skills. Service philosophy. The kind of knowledge that takes months to develop and years to master.

And it needs to happen in every department:

Hair styling. Not just blowouts, but understanding face shapes, lifestyle needs, maintenance requirements. The consultation that makes a client feel heard before the first snip.

Colorists. Real color theory. Correction expertise. The ability to look at someone's hair history, their undertones, their inspiration photos, and translate that into a formula that works.

Texture specialists. This is non-negotiable. Coily, curly, wavy—each texture has specific needs. The stylists who understand this deeply are in high demand and short supply. Train them. Celebrate them. Pay them accordingly.

Estheticians. Skin analysis that goes beyond selling the most expensive serum. Understanding ingredients, contraindications, how to build a routine that someone will actually follow.

Makeup artistry. Color matching that works in daylight. Technique that translates to everyday life. The ability to teach, not just apply.

This is the comprehensive vision. Every chair in the salon, every counter on the floor, staffed by someone who has been genuinely invested in. Someone whose expertise is the product—not just the products they're selling.

What Real Investment Looks Like

From my vantage point as an artist, operator, and consumer, what I see in Ulta is a company standing at a crossroads it may not fully recognize.

Consider what true commitment to people looks like:

Artistry education that creates real careers. Not just product training, but technique. Consultation skills. Service philosophy. The kind of development that takes months, not days, and creates genuine progression from Associate to Master Stylist—and beyond.

Compensation structures that attract experienced talent. Seasoned professionals won't leave independent practice for entry-level pay and limited benefits. Creating a landing place means creating economic structures that make the transition viable.

Clear client-experience standards that ensure every interaction—whether at the register, the skincare display, or the salon chair—reflects genuine knowledge and care.

A salon culture that becomes aspirational. Where working at Ulta's salon isn't a stepping stone but a destination—for stylists who want community, stability, and continued growth without the grind of ownership.

A real relationship with professional artists. Guest appearances, affiliate programs, pro memberships, gratis—the infrastructure that makes Ulta a partner to working professionals, not just a store where they shop on their own time.

And critically: treating loyal customers as the foundation, not an afterthought. The Beauty World debacle showed what happens when influencer metrics eclipse customer relationship. The fix isn't complicated—it's prioritization.

But here's where I have to be honest: those 20,000 in-store events Ulta is so proud of? They're dated. Product demos and brand activations that feel like obligations, not experiences. They're not moving people. They're checking boxes.

What if instead of one massive convention that 3 million people fight over, Ulta created Baby Beauty Worlds across their entire footprint?

Smaller, themed activations in multiple markets throughout the year. Chicago. Atlanta. Dallas. LA. Houston. DC. Markets where Ulta has strong store density and loyal customer bases who've been spending $1,200+ annually for years. Not influencer showcases—community experiences.

This is where you activate local and regional talent. The colorist in Atlanta who's built a devoted clientele over 15 years. The texture specialist in Houston who's known throughout the natural hair community. The makeup artist in Chicago who does editorial work but also teaches technique to everyday clients. These are the people who should be headlining—not flying in TikTokers who've never held a real client relationship.

And Cécred? Cécred could be the killer draw.

Imagine a "Back to Basics" themed activation anchored by Cécred. Take it back to old school Black hair salon days—the energy, the community, the intergenerational knowledge transfer that happened in those spaces. Not a sterile retail event but something that feels like something.

The Black hair salon was never just about hair. It was a gathering place. A space where women talked about life while getting their hair done. Where daughters watched their mothers and learned. Where expertise was passed down through conversation and demonstration, not content consumption.

Ulta has Cécred. Ulta has salons in 1,400+ locations. Ulta has the infrastructure to recreate that feeling—to honor that legacy while building something new.

A "Back to Basics" tour could move through markets with significant Black consumer bases. Feature local stylists alongside Cécred educators. Offer real services, real consultations, real education. Create the kind of experience that builds trust with a consumer segment that has been underserved by beauty retail for decades.

This isn't just an event concept. It's a relationship strategy. It says: we see you, we understand your history, we're investing in your community—not just selling to it.

The infrastructure already exists. The question is whether Ulta will direct any of that experiential energy toward the customers who've already proven their commitment, or whether it all flows toward chasing new eyeballs.

Give Diamond members first access to the flagship convention, yes. But also give them experiences that don't require winning a lottery with 1,000:1 odds. Make the people who've already chosen Ulta feel chosen in return.

This is harder than opening more stores. It's slower than signing more influencer deals. It doesn't photograph as well for investor presentations.

But it's also the path that creates something defensible. When your competitive advantage lives in the knowledge and relationships of your people, it can't be disrupted by a new platform or undercut by a faster fulfillment center.

Why I'm Still Team Ulta

The nostalgia that permeates beauty content right now is telling us something important. People miss being seen. They miss being guided. They miss the feeling that someone with genuine expertise was invested in helping them—not just in making a sale, but in getting it right.

Ulta didn't create this longing, but it's uniquely positioned to answer it.

The next era of beauty won't be led by algorithms alone. It will be led by brands and retailers that remember how trust was built in the first place. Not through reach, but through relationship. Not through content, but through consistency. Not through influencer volume, but through the quiet authority of someone who truly knows what they're doing.

Ulta has the footprint—over 1,400 stores with integrated salons. It has the customer base—44 million loyalty members. It has new leadership that speaks the language of culture and people-first strategy.

The question is whether it has the conviction to invest in what matters most: the people who show up every day, ready to do the work that no app can replicate.

The counter is waiting. So is the chair.

And so are the 3 million people who tried to get tickets to Beauty World—people who wanted to show up, who wanted to connect, who wanted to be part of something. The question is whether Ulta will ever truly show up for them.

Renata Lynette is a beauty industry professional with over 17 years of experience across broadcast television (CNN, Bloomberg, ABC/ESPN), editorial artistry, and salon operations. She is the founder of Renata Lynette Beauty and creator of Breaking News Beauty Pros, a coaching program for makeup artists building sustainable careers. She splits her time between the chair and the business side because she believes the best opportunities live in the gaps others overlook.