Mirror, Mirror On the Wall
Ten years ago I read Naomi Wolff's The Beauty Myth and Susan Faludi's Backlash. Both proved to validate with statistical and critical analysis my angst with contemporary culture's issues around beauty. The book came out at a time when my sister was recovering from anorexia, which constricted her own sense of worth and beauty. It came at a time when I, like most women I knew from 20-60, were trying to find some semblance of themselves in the images presented in popular culture. As Wolff writes: "The advertisers who make women's mass culture possibly depend on making women feel bad enough about their faces and bodies to spend more money on worthless or pain-inducing products than they would if they felt innately beautiful."
Ten years ago, friends of color rarely found themselves represented, as they'd flip through magazines of countless white faces staring back at them. Women my mother's and grandmother's years had a hard time finding folks representative of their own age. When women their own age were highlighted in print, TV or film, they're lauded as defying their age, not embracing it.
But even more hurtful was the way Wolfe and Faludi articulated how pervasive the myth extended. Film actresses often use body doubles because their image depends on their perceived saleable perfection. Many physically mutilate themselves for the icon-facelifts breast implants and liposuction-is the norm. Both Cher and Jane Fonda have had ribs removed to reduce the size of their waist. There are few images in culture that represent a mature woman without something distorting the image in order to defy age. This is not only detrimental to the young woman, but to older women as well. Dalma Heyn, editor of two women's magazines, confirms that airbrushing age from women's faces is routine: "By now readers have no idea what a real woman's 60-year-old face looks like in print because it's made to look 45. Worse, 60-year-old readers look in the mirror and think they look too old because they're comparing themselves to some retouched face smiling back at them from a magazine."
Ten years later the plurality of pop culture, one might say, is better. Women of color appear somewhat more frequently in advertisements, older women only have 3/4 of their wrinkles airbrushed and there are a few plus size models (in other words, models who are a size 12, the average American woman's size) in the magazines. Just as an aside, be reminded that the icons of beauty in the 50s-Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield-were both size 12. But little has changed. Our images of beauty are still disseminated to us through a culture that spends 33 billion a year on the diet industry, 20 billion a year on the cosmetic industry and 300 million on cosmetic surgeries. Further, as humorous and disturbing as it can be, in any given woman's magazine more often than not, they will feature an article about how to love your thighs, while on the opposing page an advertisement from a company purports their cellulite cream-one that is sure to remove that unsightly pebbly appearance holding your thighs captive from their concealed beauty.
"We live in a culture where, Kate Bess confessed in the New York Times style section, they removed the accomplished actress Renee Zelweger from the cover of Vogue because she was "too fat" after having gained some weight-having become the size of Marilyn Monroe-for her role in Bridget Jones' Diary. Newspaper articles have speculated that model Elizabeth Hurley was fired as Estee Lauders' spokeswoman because at thirty-six, she was too old. And even more disturbing, the average fashion model now is even thinner than were the Amazons of the 80s and 90s." --Wolff
The point is, little has changed; our popular images of what is beautiful, or comparing ourselves to airbrushed, malnourished 19-year-olds is still the norm.
If you look to television you know this is true. One of the most popular shows of late is called The Bachelor. The show starts out with a single guy, who's touted as the perfect catch-a banker, smart, good-looking, seems like a nice guy. The show consists of 30 young women competing to have him pick her from the lineup of beautiful women, to be the last remaining woman, who he might decide to ask to be his wife. The breakdown is hard to watch, as he gets some group dates with these women, and some one-on-one time, but he whittles his way down, having to pick 20 to stay and send 10 off. You watch as they cry and say to the camera, "Why didn't he like me? What did I do wrong?" Soon it's down to a mere four.
When he comments about this, he says, "I know no one is going to feel sorry for me, but this is really hard; they are all so-o-o-o- beautiful, it's proving harder than I thought." Take note, he didn't say, interesting, bright, provocative, engaging, humorous, charming, he said, beautiful. As the group gets smaller they look more and more like a Barbie lineup than anything else. Reinforcing the myth that it is your looks that get you somewhere in the world, it's what makes you lovable, how people find you interesting and how one garners respect. Not who you are that is beautiful. Wolff comments: "Women are so well schooled in the beauty myth that we often internalize it. Many of us are not yet sure ourselves that women are interesting without "beauty," or that women's issues alone are involving enough for them to pay good money to read about it if beauty thinking is not added to the mix."
Least you think that this myth of beauty is only at stake with adult women-think again. I read that 70% of all 10-year-old girls are worried about their weight and think they should be, or are, on a diet-of 10-year-olds-that a 4th or 5th grader worries already about what they think will make them accepted, loved and approved, what will make them beautiful in the eyes of others. What this says about us is we live in a disturbed and sick culture, allowing this to happen to 70 percent of ten-year-old girls.
Or an article I read about Botox-the drug previously only used by Hollywood elite. When injected into one's face it tightens the skin and reduces wrinkles. The article in the paper's Life Style section (which is targeted mostly for women from 35-60 years of age) spoke about the FDA approval of the drug for everyone and how now the average Josephine has the ability to visit the dermatologist just like a Hollywood star to take care of those pesky signs of aging. It was an upbeat article, acknowledging what a boon it is for the average middle-aged American woman. It wasn't until a couple weeks later that I read a different article in an alternative press publication that I realized the controversy of the drug. It seems Hollywood producers and directors hate Botox because though it manages to tighten skin and reduce the signs of aging, it makes one's face less pliable. And they are having a hard time finding actresses who have the full range of their facial capacities anymore. Now I don't know about you, but I revel in the human condition's ability to show the breadth of emotion, the array of one's facial expressions, I think it is truly a thing of beauty. Yet ironically, the ability to show one's emotions loses out in the pursuit of becoming a beauty icon.
Now, obviously images of beauty affect women drastically. But if you are male, sitting in the pews this morning, you may be thinking, what the heck does any of this have to do with me? Well, I would argue it has a lot to do with you. If you love a women: a wife, a partner, a sister, a mother, a daughter, a friend; perhaps you should know that these images of beauty are harmful to their self-esteem and love of one's soul. We all contribute in defining beauty in narrow terms. Further, these images of beauty are just starting to be relevant to men. More and more young men are developing eating disorders and more middle-aged men are concerned with their receding hairlines, willing to undergo surgery or drug treatment, than ever before. The myths we carry around about beauty affect all of us, some way, some how.
Now, most contemporary critics would argue that we need a broader definition of beauty, that our current definition is too narrow. I agree. The best articulation of this I found in a book called Body Outlaws (formerly titled: Adios, Barbie; but alas, Mattel sued them for the use of the name and bad rap associated with their product.) Young women write about body image and identity. Susan Jane Gilman writes an essay on Barbie and how she would like to see the image of beauty change, one that is more ecumenical. She writes, "Dolls often give children their first lessons in what a society considers valuable and beautiful. And so, I'd like to see dolls that teach little girls something more than fashion-consciousness and self-consciousness. I'd like to see dolls that expand girls' ideas about what is beautiful instead of constricting them."
Along with Barbies of all shapes and colors, here are some Barbies she would personally like to see.
Butch Barbie: Comes with short hair, leather jacket "Silence=Death" T-shirt, pink triangle buttons, doc martens and pool cue. Packaged in cardboard closet with doors flung wide open. Barbie carpentry business sold separately.
Birkenstock Barbie: Finally, a doll made with horizontal feet and comfortable sandals. Made from recycled materials.
Blue Collar Barbie: Comes with overalls, protective goggles, lunch pail, UAW membership, pamphlet on union organizing and pay scales for women as compared to men. Waitressing outfits and cashier's register may be purchased separately for Barbies who are holding down second jobs to make ends meet.
And my personal favorite:
Transgender Barbie: Formerly known as G.I. Joe.
Now, I agree we need to widen our definition of what is beautiful, but it begs the question, what's going to make us do it, besides telling people that we should... We've all heard a lot of people say it; the Beauty Myth came out ten years ago so what will make us broaden our definition? I think we know we need to define it more broadly but maybe what we need is an awakening to what beauty really is.
Not to include more things, but to be clear of what beauty is. It's true we don't define beauty widely enough, but I think we also haven't thought about what it means for us enough. What makes us beautiful, or to say someone else is beautiful. For me, I think it gets at the power of the story attached to something. If we see beauty as a story, as a means to express a trait, or passion, or feature, it is beautiful if it captures the best of the human spirit. If it lifts up such things as passion, love of life, truth, courage, boldness. Beauty, in its real sense then, all gets down to a story. And I know this is hard to do because I'm not just saying that everything is beautiful, it's more complicated than that. For me it's recognizing that certain traits tell a story, and in the story it is that which makes something beautiful.
For instance, let's look at why youth is beautiful. I'm not going to argue that it isn't. But why is it beautiful? Perhaps because it tells the story of new possibilities, a clean slate, a world wide with opportunity. And that is something to celebrate-that is beautiful.
Conversely, why would we say that a bruise isn't beautiful? Perhaps because it tells the story of violence, of harm, or pain, of hurt. And violence isn't something to celebrate; thus it isn't beautiful.
I once knew a woman in her 80s who physically was of average looks. Her features were big for a woman, her body well worn. Yet she emitted a kind of beauty. A comfortableness in her self. Not only did she appear beautiful to others, she was to herself. She would tell me that her favorite features were her wrinkles. That the crow's feet around her eyes were a symbol of all the beauty she had experienced in the world; they had come about from watching the sunrise in the morning, squinting at a noonday sun and watching the sun set. That her wrinkles on her face around her mouth and eyes were well earned. They came about through smiling at her children, a perfect day, or her quirky husband. They were what she said at 83, now made her a beautiful woman. Up until that time, she never would have said that about herself, but now in all confidence, she said, "I finally made it, I'm a beautiful gal." It reminded me of the words of Virginia Wolff who wrote, "If there is anything behind a face, that face improves with age. Lines show distinction and character; they show that one has lived; that one may know something." Yes, this woman was beautiful in her story. Her story told of her love of where her life had taken her, of rising and smiling at the sun each day, of relishing a life well lived, and indeed, she in turn was beautiful.
There was a poster of a half naked woman in what was the feminist bookstore, My Sister's Words in Syracuse. It was compelling and beautiful in its simplicity. A poster of a breast cancer survivor who had a mastectomy. Breast cancer for her and many others is not only traumatic but life threatening, with the added component of possibly being left with a new body image to grapple with. Many women struggle with whether or not to have reconstructive surgery. But this woman chose not to. On her bare, now flat, chest lays a rose tattoo that runs across the entire right side of her body smack where her breast previously was. It's a simple yet intricately drawn tattoo. Her tattoo and one-breasted body are beautiful. Beautiful because it tell the story of courage, of tenacity, of acceptance, and ultimately of love of self again. She is a beautiful woman standing in that poster with arms outstretched and face toward a cloudless sky. A sight to behold.
If I were asked what is beautiful about me, what makes me beautiful, I'd say, my tracheotomy scar. Six years ago, I got a strep pneumonia infection that nearly killed me. After weeks of hospitalization, and a couple months out of work, I returned back to life, skinny and tired. But I say it is my scar that makes me beautiful because it tells the story of learning early on that we have today to live, that life is not to be taken advantage of. That we have this moment, right now. The story of the scar reminds me of that each day as I look in the mirror. It is my beauty mark.
Beauty inevitably all gets down to a story. So, what is your beauty mark? What is the story that makes you beautiful? Once we understand that beauty is story, once we do that, then we will widen our definition of what beauty is.
It is in the telling of our stories of beauty that allows us to widen our perspective. Not to compare ourselves to those airbrushed, or 60-year-olds with facelifts, or to someone 10-20-30 years younger than ourselves. Whether you are old or young, male or female, thin or round, straight or gay, all of us have something that makes us beautiful. And we need to help widen the definition, if not for the growth of our own spiritual selves, then for the betterment of the self-image and spiritual center of ten-year-old girls everywhere. You all hold it within, capable of sharing it with the rest of us. What is your beauty mark?...
So may it be. Amen
April 24, 2005