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textualdevianceIn the midst of a conversation about Dom's fashion choices it occurred to me how much I truly detest fashion and makeup and all that stuff. I don't mind it for a lark, for the sake of costume, for the sake of doing oneself up theatrically, a la goth, etc. And I think that's mostly what Dom does it for.
But I really don't get it on a serious level. Is lipstick even remotely attractive? Eyeshadow? What's attractive about a $500 dress? What's the big deal with Prada or Blahniks? Do men really find these things sexy?
Of course, I also don't understand the attraction to the other side of it, either-- the whole big, hairy, manly, stinky, sweaty thing. I'm all for people doing whatever floats their boat, and being attracted to whatever uniquely appeals to them (hell, I certainly wouldn't get laid otherwise ;) ) but I guess I don't understand why those things are held up as ideals. The whole cosmetics industry, and body building and all that. I just don't get what that's about. Fashion magazines and $50 lipsticks and whatever happens to be hip this week. Meh. Seems like a giant waste of time, energy and money to me. I suppose all those things are attractive to some people. I guess I just wouldn't be interested in the kind of people who found them attractive. I like down to earth, low-bullshit people who don't need to put a mask on every day to face the world, or go to bizarre lengths to alter themselves to please other people. I've been around the block enough times to know that while that sort of artifice may well gain more attention, the attention is superficial. It doesn't last, nor does it go any deeper than the layer of makeup that attracted it in the first place. A pushup bra may get you laid, but it doesn't make someone fall in love. A 6 pack may turn heads on the beach, but it doesn't make someone want to bring you ginger ale when you've been horking all night. All that stuff goes away when you're married. You take away the masks and bullshit and get down to who you really are. You wake up with bad breath, you fart in bed, you see that your partner has zits on their ass. That's the stuff that makes us human, and accepting those things about our partners is what makes relationships last.
I've always thought part of the huge divorce rate comes from people who get married too young, before they've understood this, or who marry people based on superficial physical attraction. 10 years later, when her tits are sagging and he has love handles, the stuff that brought them together no longer exists, and they realize that they don't actually have anything in common beyond lust based on looking like a magazine. Sometimes they don't realize that it's these artificial ideals that have made them lose interest in each other, and so they go cheat with some 18 year old or go marry someone else who seems more attractive. And then find out later that the same problem still exists and get divorced again. And by then, they're bitter 40 year olds with kids who hate them and a life that's going nowhere.
I hate my illness, and I hate that it's destroyed my body the way it has, but it's had one benefit in that it's forced me to get past all the artificial bullshit that our culture shovels onto people about looks being essential to being loved. I was hot when I met my first husband. I was also 16, too. We didn't split up because of my looks changing-- I don't think he really minded-- but that was a factor in a way, because I kept sleeping around on him to reassure myself that I was still attractive to other people, and therefore still worth something. I still have some issues that direction, but it's helped that Mike met me when I was definitely quite fat. I've gained some since we've been together, but not a lot, so I'm pretty much still the same person he fell for the first night we met. And that's cool. He does find me attractive, but it's stuff that goes beyond what I look like in lingerie. And the same goes for him, too. I fully believe this is what's allowed us to have such a strong relationship for almost 10 years now.
I feel sorry for people who are still so hung up on the magazine images. They don't realize that they're never going to look like that, and that even if they do, the people who "love" them for that reason don't really love them anyway, they just love a hollow shell. One may as well be a blowup doll, because that's all that that sort of attraction is about. If you get rid of the drawers full of makeup and closets full of clothes and stop sucking in your stomach every time you meet someone new, you just might find someone who loves the real you that doesn't have anything to do with smoke and mirrors.
But I really don't get it on a serious level. Is lipstick even remotely attractive? Eyeshadow? What's attractive about a $500 dress? What's the big deal with Prada or Blahniks? Do men really find these things sexy?
Of course, I also don't understand the attraction to the other side of it, either-- the whole big, hairy, manly, stinky, sweaty thing. I'm all for people doing whatever floats their boat, and being attracted to whatever uniquely appeals to them (hell, I certainly wouldn't get laid otherwise ;) ) but I guess I don't understand why those things are held up as ideals. The whole cosmetics industry, and body building and all that. I just don't get what that's about. Fashion magazines and $50 lipsticks and whatever happens to be hip this week. Meh. Seems like a giant waste of time, energy and money to me. I suppose all those things are attractive to some people. I guess I just wouldn't be interested in the kind of people who found them attractive. I like down to earth, low-bullshit people who don't need to put a mask on every day to face the world, or go to bizarre lengths to alter themselves to please other people. I've been around the block enough times to know that while that sort of artifice may well gain more attention, the attention is superficial. It doesn't last, nor does it go any deeper than the layer of makeup that attracted it in the first place. A pushup bra may get you laid, but it doesn't make someone fall in love. A 6 pack may turn heads on the beach, but it doesn't make someone want to bring you ginger ale when you've been horking all night. All that stuff goes away when you're married. You take away the masks and bullshit and get down to who you really are. You wake up with bad breath, you fart in bed, you see that your partner has zits on their ass. That's the stuff that makes us human, and accepting those things about our partners is what makes relationships last.
I've always thought part of the huge divorce rate comes from people who get married too young, before they've understood this, or who marry people based on superficial physical attraction. 10 years later, when her tits are sagging and he has love handles, the stuff that brought them together no longer exists, and they realize that they don't actually have anything in common beyond lust based on looking like a magazine. Sometimes they don't realize that it's these artificial ideals that have made them lose interest in each other, and so they go cheat with some 18 year old or go marry someone else who seems more attractive. And then find out later that the same problem still exists and get divorced again. And by then, they're bitter 40 year olds with kids who hate them and a life that's going nowhere.
I hate my illness, and I hate that it's destroyed my body the way it has, but it's had one benefit in that it's forced me to get past all the artificial bullshit that our culture shovels onto people about looks being essential to being loved. I was hot when I met my first husband. I was also 16, too. We didn't split up because of my looks changing-- I don't think he really minded-- but that was a factor in a way, because I kept sleeping around on him to reassure myself that I was still attractive to other people, and therefore still worth something. I still have some issues that direction, but it's helped that Mike met me when I was definitely quite fat. I've gained some since we've been together, but not a lot, so I'm pretty much still the same person he fell for the first night we met. And that's cool. He does find me attractive, but it's stuff that goes beyond what I look like in lingerie. And the same goes for him, too. I fully believe this is what's allowed us to have such a strong relationship for almost 10 years now.
I feel sorry for people who are still so hung up on the magazine images. They don't realize that they're never going to look like that, and that even if they do, the people who "love" them for that reason don't really love them anyway, they just love a hollow shell. One may as well be a blowup doll, because that's all that that sort of attraction is about. If you get rid of the drawers full of makeup and closets full of clothes and stop sucking in your stomach every time you meet someone new, you just might find someone who loves the real you that doesn't have anything to do with smoke and mirrors.
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Oops. I said that out loud, didn't I?
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You're absolutely right when it comes to the perceived imagery of what is considered "beauty". Somebody can be drop-dead gorgeous on the outside, but if they're an evil shit-bag on the inside would I still consider them "beautiful"? No.
Remember the very first line of Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind? "Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful." What I've always felt Mitchell was essentially saying was beauty is not necessarily on the surface. Scarlett was a looker - she turned all the boys heads more so than any other Southern Belle, but she was cold-hearted, selfish, mean, conniving and a downright bitch. Melanie Wilks was plain, but was kind, giving, compassionate especially to Scarlett. I realized by the end of the book that Melanie was the true beauty. And that why Ashley loved her so.
It would be nice if inner beauty was held in as much high regard as looks, but who am I kidding.