In a past life, I was the associate art director at an African-American women's magazine, responsible for hiring beauty photographers, and then using the images to illustrate the stories. From covering braid trends to microdermabrasion, it was a beautiful experience. (What other job would let me get a way with spending the day at a spa and still pay me for it?) One of the biggest perks was working with celebrities who trusted my judgment to help make them look good.

Occasionally, the celebs would offer advice to me, too. Back in the day, on a beauty shoot featuring Destiny's Child, Beyoncé once told me she liked my natural hair, but thought it would really look good blonde. "You think so?" I laughed, not used to taking unsolicited advice from teenagers—even famous ones. But she insisted I had the "right" skin color for it. (Um, thanks, girl...I think.)

That particular incident happened so long ago that the Beyoncé of today probably doesn't even remember the first name of the fourth member they had at the time. But I was thinking about it recently, after the uproar over the now-infamous L'Oreal hair coloring advertisement featuring the lead singer turned superstar. In the ad, Beyoncé rocks honey-colored, windswept hair and a complexion that is a few shades lighter than her real skin tone.

Weeks after the images hit the Internet, blogs and black hair salons are still reverberating over the image, with cries of the disenfranchisement and accusations of a white-out. But given what I know about the business of image-making, here's why I don't think we should let The Great Beyoncé Complexion Debate make its way under our melanin.

Reason 1: Seeing the Light

Upon first glance at the ad in question, I noticed that the lighting used is particularly intense. Beauty photographers make a point to show every shimmering strand of hair in an effort to tell the story or in this case, sell the product. Consistent with every other Feria box lining the local drugstores shelves, the overall color scheme of the ad has a metallic, almost ethereal glow. L'Oreal goes to great lengths to make sure that a Feria box would never (ever!) be confused with one belonging to Dark and Lovely. So in their eyes, the branding was on point. To mine, Beyoncé ended up looking like she could have probably used a trip to St. Barth's, but that was probably about it.

Reason: 2: White is Not Always Right

I don't think the company had any intention to make Beyoncé look Caucasian. If they had wanted a white woman, I'm sure Jessica Simpson would have happily obliged. Even with Beyoncé's head deliberately turned to most likely highlight the most European-looking angle of her nose, Beyonce still looked like a sister to me. I mean, she may have Creole roots, but she's not Jennifer Beals. The superstar would have about as hard a time passing for white as Nicole Kidman would passing for black, even after dating Lenny Kravitz (and Q-Tip.)

Reason 3: The Mighty Black Dollar

The cosmetics giant, based in France, has denied any wrong-doing, stating that they highly value their relationship with Ms. Knowles. I think they're probably telling the truth; even the French know the power of the African-American dollar. So perhaps it was just a laissez-faire attitude that can account for the faux pas. Of course, if L'Oreal hired more people of color (or culturally-sensitive, creative-types of any race for that matter), perhaps someone would have warmed Beyoncé's skin tone up a bit to compensate for the high-key lighting. I highly doubt there was a racist Photoshop expert in front of a Mac behind a big magic curtain, laughing sinisterly as they tried to foil black people again. That said, I wouldn't be surprised if at the end of the shoot, the creative "geniuses" behind the scenes found themselves thinking Beyoncé "looks really pretty...for a black girl."

Knowles refused to comment on the subject beyond the statement that L'Oreal gave. It's not the first time the celebutante has been criticized for not living up to the ideals of black women everywhere. It seems there is a sentiment among many black women that Beyoncé Giselle Knowles was put on earth to represent them. Somehow, one highly exposed and retouched photograph of Beyoncé—in a sea of many—translates into a slap against their darker daughters/cousins/play-aunts/friends who felt they could relate to her—until now. Lace-front wigs were okay, but this lighter skin, now that's a problem. They're concerned that the ad won't do anything to help the self-esteem of these girls, or in the worst-case scenario, damage it.

Not to take anything away from Beyoncé, but I would much rather my daughters to look up to black women who are celebrated for their minds as opposed to their vocal chords (among other body parts). The more I think about it, the clearer it becomes that this complexion conundrum might have much less to do with Beyoncé and L'Oreal than it does with black women's self-image and emotional pain associated with skin-color—not to mention our convoluted hairstory.

Maybe the whole blow-up means we all could use some of our own retouching—beginning inside our heads.

Meera Bowman-Johnson is a former art director who coincidentally lives in Houston, Texas, the birthplace of Beyonc é Knowles.