There's an epidemic of ugliness in multiplayer shooters. Its cause goes by many names—the skin, bundle, drop, outfit, coating, or its most generic moniker, the cosmetic. Unassuming at its onset and quiet by nature, Cosmetic Uglification is a viral affliction infecting the best shooters of our time. When left unchecked, all semblance of aesthetic cohesion is sacrificed at the altar of individual expression, exclusivity, and FOMO. Every shooter I love is becoming visual ooze before my very eyes.
Signs of Cosmetic Uglification are everywhere: in spec ops soldiers trading tactical vests for diamond-laced streetwear, elite operators wearing Lara Croft cosplay, or commandos going loud in pajamas. As seasons rage on, live service games garner years worth of stylistic baggage unique to our post-Fortnite world. It's become normal to watch shooters that once flaunted a style of their own be infiltrated by garish outfits and pop culture guest stars. Throw in enough Mortys and Santa outfits and even the strongest art direction eventually becomes unremarkable mush. The very items that can drive us to play our favorite games longer also have the capability to erode their appeal.
I recently had a moment of clarity in Call of Duty while being brutally executed by Diablo 4's Lilith holding an AK-47: Cosmetic Uglification never happens all at once, but the cycle always begins at launch, and it can take over before you realize it's there.
