Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Beautiful Liar

Reflecting on the Truth, we stumble upon another inlet, this one seemingly leading into a vast continent called The Rest of Your Life. (Sorry, I'm running out of seaworthy expressions.) We disembark upon the country of MisRepresentation, Capital City: Ideal Bodies. The locals know it as the Media's Perpetuation of Unrealistic Ideals.

According to the media, to be beautiful you have to be either stick thin, blonde haired, blue-eyed, but with disproportionally big breasts, or you have to...Wait, that's it. If you have a body that generally does not occur in nature, you are beautiful. If you have curves, you can't do much. The average real woman is not portrayed in many of our media outlets: many housewives are slim, even after having however many children, and generally have decently sized breasts. No baby fat is seen on them, yet we see them eat unhealthily and rarely exercise. And then, they decide to go on diets to lose the "excess weight" they've been carrying since they had children. Why? And the others, the girls who are adolescents, are the same way, perpetuating this myth that in order to be beautiful, to be successful in life, you have to be a size 0, and if you're not, well, you need to correct it.

We look to celebrities for our examples of beauty. Many of them are unnaturally thin, eat right, have personal nutritionists as well as personal trainers. They can afford to do this. On the other hand, our generation feels like we need to measure up, or in this case, down, to these standards, without any of this at our disposal. What happens then? Eating disorders occur. Either one eats too much when she feels depressed, and as such gains weight, and many who go down this route will turn to vomiting to lose the excess weight (hence, bulimia nervosa), or they will literally starve themselves to achieve the glorified size zero (anorexia nervosa). We struggle with this every day, the constant pressure of fitting in, and no one does anything about this.

Sure, Tyra Banks has attempted to, but now that she is no longer an Angel, the only ones who pay attention to her are desperate teens attempting to be models, or middle aged women who have the time to watch her television show. Yes, she went on her talk show after non-flattering pictures surfaced of her, but she was 161 pounds, and for her height that is ideal. Yes, she encourages "plus sized" girls to try out for America's Next Top Model, but it took ten seasons to have a "plus sized" winner. She advocates this, but to affect the whole industry, or even a small section she must do more, and her attempts have fallen flat.

This idea of a "plus sized" model is ridiculous. The restraints for a "normal sized" model are even worse. But "plus sized" is anyone who is a size 8 to a size 14. The majority of women are this size. This is not "plus sized" at all. This is normal. This is how I look. I am not fat, I have an hourglass figure, and yet I would still be labeled as "plus sized." And to achieve either modeling requirements, many will turn to destructive means, such as bulimia and anorexia. It's an epidemic that the media continues. No matter where you fall, you can't fit. You're not beautiful because you don't fit into this model of the perfect, beautiful woman. Don't have curves, or you're "plus sized," and plus sized models don't get nearly as much attention.

This trend in the modeling industry has only been around for a few decades. Before the emergence of Twiggy, in 1966, models were fuller figured, voluptuous even. At 16 years of age, Twiggy only weighed 90 pounds when she emerged as the new body of fashion. Designers saw the practicality of this, and the beauty and grace that Twiggy embodied, and decided to plan their fashion lines around thin models. Because of this, the media has come to see thin as beautiful, encouraging young girls to strive for the same thing.


I feel as if I'm being redundant, but this is something I'm passionate about. I don't believe that we should be concerned about this. I know someone who is 19, a size five, and about 5'4" who believe she is fat. She has no fat anywhere on her body, and weighs less than 120 pounds. I know another, 19 as well, a size 7 or 9 (I can't remember correctly), about 5'6", and she believes she's fat, all because she has curves. She eats healthily, exercises, and has both breasts and a butt. She has added pressure because her mother was not even 120 pounds when she was pregnant and in her 20's.


And that's just the female side of things. Males have the pressure to have muscles, to be a certain height, to have a six pack, and to be a man. What does this entail, besides for the physical muscle tone? Be tall, dark, and handsome, clean cut, clear skin, the whole nine yards. They have to be a certain weight, but in this case it is muscle weight they worry about. No six pack abs-you're not a man. No arm muscles-not a man. Scrawny-not a man. No muscles, but still 200 pounds-not a man. Not taller than your girlfriend-not a man. Cry-not a man. So many requirements for them as well. And they struggle as well with eating disorders, even if it is not as widely broadcast.


Male or female, the media dictates how you must look. The pressure to fit into this ideal mold is sometimes too much to bear. Constant worry abounds. I want to leave this town, leave this country of MisRepresentation, and forget it exists. But we're only at the coast, we have a whole lot of ground to cover before we can escape. For now, my crew continues forth.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Trust Me

After wandering around the truth for quite some time (since the last entry, and indeed I feel like I will continue to do so), I spot something brown looming in the distance. Not sure what, I direct my crew cautiously towards it. I don't want to lose my head, not now that it's been gone for quite some time. I take out my telescope, and peer ahead. A bridge. A bridge to where? We must get closer.

As we sail on, a feeling of great warmth spreads over me. I still don't know where this bridge leads, but I feel like it could be more than truth. And then, a sense of understanding washes over me. It leads to beauty, because the bridge is more beautiful than any I've seen before. So why is it here, leading from truth? Does beauty equal truth? I would like to explore, but am afraid. What if I can't get there? What if only the beautiful can make it to Beauty? I am not beautiful, inside or out, and I feel like the beauty inside is what will allow one to pass. I am not beautiful on the inside in any conventional sense. I am jealous, flighty, distracted, selfish, lazy, and slightly horrible. Occasionally I enjoy others' pain. I have no claim to being captain, not when I've already let others captain the vessel that is me.

So I send you, the pure one, the visually stunning one, to go ahead and see what happens. And there she walks, across the bridge, until we can't see her. We have told her once she gets to the other side, to come back so we could all explore whatever is at the end of the bridge. We wait for some time, hoping that my hunch is right, hoping I don't have to add "murderer" on the list of tragedies that mark my life. And then, a faint voice calls over the ocean. She can't get back past the bridge. We wonder at this strange occurrance as we sail over to pick her up. To go on, or to turn back? We go back to truth, because with this new development comes a new desire to know all.

And then I realize, as I separate myself from the rest of my crew, why she couldn't get back to Truth: because all beauty has a part of truth, but not all truth is beautiful. In that case, is a true depiction of a horrible event beautiful? If, for example, an artist decided to recreate the horrors of war, it would be beautiful, no? Or rape, or abuse, what have you. And is there a difference between the art being beautifully done and being beautiful as a whole? This is what I and mainly my Humanities class grappled with. If the content is horrible, but it is beautifully done, then can we still call it beautiful? I believe so. Beauty does not equal something positive. Otherwise, most of our literature would not be considered "beautiful." Poems dealing about a dark past-beautifully written, yes, but beautiful, no.

Beauty does not equal something positive. This is what my class struggled with the most. They decided that there was a difference between beauty as a whole and beautifully done, and ascribed the intent of the artist to be a major factor in deciding whether or not the thing is beautiful. The example of the cruxifiction was brought up, and because we all know that Jesus died on the cross for something he believed in made it beautiful. But I believe that, using the example of abuse that we dealt with in class, that it can be distressingly beautiful. It is not just beautifully done, it is innately beautiful.

But we were operating under no definition of beauty. According to dictionary.com, beauty is
the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest). Which means that those depictions we were using are false. Also, a great part of literature is false. I disagree, dictionary.com. Despair can be beautiful, when it is truthful.