Plastic Chic
So I was sitting in a cafe today (because god knows that's all I ever do, really) and this girl walks past me. Not just any kind of girl, I mean, a total smokeshow. And as she walks down the aisle between the tables, every single head turns to follow her: guy, girl, animal- whatever. And I'm looking at her, and I'm trying to figure out what it is about her that makes her so perfect looking. Really, there wasn't anything wrong with her... but to me, something was a bit off. And then it dawns on me: she looks exactly like all the other hot women I've seen. Seriously. The same perfectly toned, curvy (but not too curvy!) figure, the same light brown hair with platinum streaks, the same suspiciously bronze tan in the middle of winter. The same perfect perky nose, offset by the same dark eyemakeup and the same full lips covered with the same shiny plastic lip gloss. The same low cut shirt, and the same skinny jeans with the same matching shoes.
For a moment I fear as if I'm sounding like one of those girls who rejects fashion and criticizes all the models because she's jealous. Let's clarify: I'm not one of those girls. I happen to like fashion, and I was an aspiring model for a few good years. Let's just say that to me , beauty- real beauty- is having something that makes you stand out. Too many freckles, a slightly crooked nose, large eyes... anything to break the mold. And women like that, they're not considered smokeshows. But they're beautiful.
It's funny, I can think of the perfect woman. Everyone can generally agree that women like the woman I saw in the cafe is attractive. But I can't think of the perfect man. Because I know what I look for (slightly awkward and nerdy, eccentric artist types, unpredictable etc) but that's completely different than say, what my roommate looks for. And furthermore, I don't have a preference about eye color or hair color or noze shape or waist size or anything like that. Most women don't.
Let's put this another way: Close your eyes and picture the perfect woman. I bet you all of our images were pretty similar. But now picture the perfect man. The differences are endless...
I'm not saying men don't have ridiculous standards to live up to. We all do, both men and women. But I feel like the standards are more relaxed for men. Whereas, no one really gives a hoot what size pants a man wears, when I tell my girls and metro-guy friends that I wear a size 5 (ok I used to... god knows college food + stress = rapid weightloss) they freak out: Nooooo you don't!!! When did it get to this point? Whereas, no one really cares if a guy has freckles, I feel really self-conscious because mine cause people to think I'm 3+ years younger than my actual age (the lovely and most recent example of a visit to the doctor's office. Nurse: so how's college Me: almost done, thank god. Nurse: What?! How old are you? Me: I'll be 22. Nurse: Nooooo you're kidding! You look 18!) Yeah, someday I'll like it, but why should I? Why is it not OK for women to look their age?
Maybe its a result of us watching all those marathon sessions of Americas Next Top Model. Seriously, I don't understand the fascination with those shows. Watching them is like watching a car wreck. I can't watch those shows unless I've got a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a bag of Mint Milanos next to me. Because otherwise, I'll just stop eating altogether. That's my reaction to those shows: I see a model, and I either want to eat an entire bag of Milano cookies, or throw up and run on a treadmill for 4 hours. Either one isn't healthy. Since when do women actually *look* like the airbrushed models we see everywhere? It's terrifying, really.
And then I go to facebook. Ahh facebook, the epitome of our generation. I've turned into a real facebook junkie lately, mainly because Pennsylvania, though beautiful, is incredibly boring when all my friends are "adults" and have real jobs (ie: no spring break). It's the same sort of deal. All the groups of "future MILFS" and "hot sorority chicks" (ok that's not a real group to my knowledge, but you know the groups I'm talking about...) have girls who look exactly the same. And I'm wondering if beneath those blonde highlights, beneath the bronzer and liquid eyeliner, beneath the designer size zero jeans and Paris Hilton vapid expression lurks a truly beautiful woman. With freckles. And maybe a crooked nose.
For a moment I fear as if I'm sounding like one of those girls who rejects fashion and criticizes all the models because she's jealous. Let's clarify: I'm not one of those girls. I happen to like fashion, and I was an aspiring model for a few good years. Let's just say that to me , beauty- real beauty- is having something that makes you stand out. Too many freckles, a slightly crooked nose, large eyes... anything to break the mold. And women like that, they're not considered smokeshows. But they're beautiful.
It's funny, I can think of the perfect woman. Everyone can generally agree that women like the woman I saw in the cafe is attractive. But I can't think of the perfect man. Because I know what I look for (slightly awkward and nerdy, eccentric artist types, unpredictable etc) but that's completely different than say, what my roommate looks for. And furthermore, I don't have a preference about eye color or hair color or noze shape or waist size or anything like that. Most women don't.
Let's put this another way: Close your eyes and picture the perfect woman. I bet you all of our images were pretty similar. But now picture the perfect man. The differences are endless...
I'm not saying men don't have ridiculous standards to live up to. We all do, both men and women. But I feel like the standards are more relaxed for men. Whereas, no one really gives a hoot what size pants a man wears, when I tell my girls and metro-guy friends that I wear a size 5 (ok I used to... god knows college food + stress = rapid weightloss) they freak out: Nooooo you don't!!! When did it get to this point? Whereas, no one really cares if a guy has freckles, I feel really self-conscious because mine cause people to think I'm 3+ years younger than my actual age (the lovely and most recent example of a visit to the doctor's office. Nurse: so how's college Me: almost done, thank god. Nurse: What?! How old are you? Me: I'll be 22. Nurse: Nooooo you're kidding! You look 18!) Yeah, someday I'll like it, but why should I? Why is it not OK for women to look their age?
Maybe its a result of us watching all those marathon sessions of Americas Next Top Model. Seriously, I don't understand the fascination with those shows. Watching them is like watching a car wreck. I can't watch those shows unless I've got a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a bag of Mint Milanos next to me. Because otherwise, I'll just stop eating altogether. That's my reaction to those shows: I see a model, and I either want to eat an entire bag of Milano cookies, or throw up and run on a treadmill for 4 hours. Either one isn't healthy. Since when do women actually *look* like the airbrushed models we see everywhere? It's terrifying, really.
And then I go to facebook. Ahh facebook, the epitome of our generation. I've turned into a real facebook junkie lately, mainly because Pennsylvania, though beautiful, is incredibly boring when all my friends are "adults" and have real jobs (ie: no spring break). It's the same sort of deal. All the groups of "future MILFS" and "hot sorority chicks" (ok that's not a real group to my knowledge, but you know the groups I'm talking about...) have girls who look exactly the same. And I'm wondering if beneath those blonde highlights, beneath the bronzer and liquid eyeliner, beneath the designer size zero jeans and Paris Hilton vapid expression lurks a truly beautiful woman. With freckles. And maybe a crooked nose.
posted by Jessica @ 2:01 PM
2 Comments:
At 8:56 AM,
Knulp said…
i passed by you numerous times on martin way or got a glimpse of you sitting in opus, and every time i turned around for that little something special that makes you stand out, as you say. i can't really put my finger on it, but it does go into direction of ms. golightly, who happens to also be one of my fav people ever. go figure.
i wish i saw you around more often. maybe i should've had my hot chocolate with triple mint shot in opus 1 instead of opus 2 sometimes. maybe then i would have talked to you more often. sure, my good friends are your friends, but i never knew you, even if i knew your name. i wish i stopped you and said hi, let's grab a coffee and talk. seems like you'd be a great (and even more, intelligent, which is slowly becoming a rarity) person to talk to from your blogs, notes etc.
... i wish our paths cross soon. here, europe, wherever, some cafe on a side street. i promise i won't let you walk by. i'll stop you and offer you a hand. get away from ny, go south. it's pretty and peaceful. bring your cat(s) with you. numerous cats all over the northern hemisphere have vouched for the 5-star coziness of my lap.
until then, stay well. baci.
At 9:22 PM,
Jessica said…
If I ever do walk by, please do stop me and say hi. It's never too late, after all.
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