So, I was reading this blog article that was talking about how lame it is to photoshop and alter photos for womens magazines. These magazines crop, cut, paste, soften, erase, blur any imperfections that the model may have with the goal of creating the ideal or “perfect”woman. I don’t want to go on a rant about this topic, instead, I’ll let you read the article for yourself and you can read someone else rant. I will, however, let you read my thoughts.
My thoughts:
It’s funny when I think back to being a young impressionable sponge. Absorbing every criticism or reinforcement that was hurled my way. Hanging on every word of advice given in my YM magazine, Teen Magazine, or Glamour Magazine. My magazines were like the Holy Bible of getting through the teen years. YM explained that torn jeans and flannel shirts were what I was supposed to wear this season, it told me that Charlie White perfume was going to attract the cutest boys in school, it told me where to find all those special sexy spots on a man, it promised that if I washed my face with Neutrogena I would have flawless skin, it assured me that if I had brown eyes plum eyeshadow and burnt coffee lipstick would make me most appealing.
Oh, how I believed it! I had a never ending collection of beauty products hidden in every drawer and cabinet of my bathroom. I would spend a minimum of 30 to 45 minutes manipulating my hair every morning just to get my ponytail bump-free and my bangs hairsprayed stiff to hold the perfect round “C” against my forehead. I would spend an entire morning primping and preparing for the day. I’d arrive to school, quietly sit at my desk and then, sadly, feel just as insecure, self-conscious, defeated as I first did when my naked body stepped out of the shower only a few hours before.
Sigh. That poor, poor little spongey-brain girl.
If only I could whisper in her ear and say, “Don’t worry. Someday you won’t care anymore. Someday your skin will feel like it belongs on you. Someday you will no longer think Cindy Crawford is the prettiest person on earth. You will think you are.”
I’m not exactly quite sure when it happened, but there was a moment in life when I heard those words. And then there was a moment when I believed it. And now, I live it. I am living my “someday.”
No more oggling over bean-poles in magazines. No more taking advice about my own damn face. No more mapquest to my man’s body.
Now, its just me and my happy,happy self. Age is sobering. Isn’t it?
It’s like the Italian guy told me, “you are soap and water.” Huh? I didn’t understand it then. But now, there is no better way to express beauty. Simple and pure. Unpainted nails.
In fact, I’m not soap and water my life is soap and water.
