The Pretty Price Check: Your Friday round-up of how much we paid for beauty this week.

• 32,000: The number of Barbie Dolls you’re looking at in the photo above, by artist Chris Jordan. Which also represents the number of breast augmentation surgeries performed every month in the United States. (Via EcoSalon.)

• $3: The daily paycheck of workers in an Indian factory that bottles celebrity perfumes. This is a part of the beauty price we haven’t been talking about enough around here, because I tend to be focused on how American salon workers are paying — stay tuned, because this is something we need to be talking about a whole lot more. (Via the Guardian)

• 2/3: How much wider you think your body is when you look in the mirror. We also view ourselves as shorter than we really are, because well, we’re just that unkind. (Via Jezebel, where Sadie has a great analysis on what’s up with that so do click.)

Must Watch: Great YouTube video about what’s going on in cosmetics. (Thanks, Aimee, for commenting with the link!)

Must Read: After all the uproar over American Apparel’s employee dress code, New York Magazine’s fashion blog, The Cut investigated the dress codes at ten other NYC retailers. It’s. Fascinating. You guys know my take on the Beauty U dress code,* so I won’t bother going into too much detail, except to say: I think this is an area with a lot of rather troubling shades of gray. Sure, a clothing store (or spa or anyplace else appearance-oriented) is going to want employees to represent the brand. But making workers spend their own money to do so is never going to sit right with me.

Also Great: Stacy Malkan’s mystery source, Bubbles, reports a somewhat hilarious/troubling email exchange with an Estee Launder customer service rep who just can’t manage to answer a single question about what’s in their products.

*By the way, there’s a note up on the board in our Beauty U classroom right now that says: “REMEMBER: No cap sleeves, no ripped jeans, no hoodies, thanks!” with a heart next to it. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am the reason for at least two out of three.