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OK, so am I the only one who's sick of being confronted every damn place I go with images of beautiful, thin, white, young models with long, thick flowing hair, clear skin and large breasts? I don't even watch TV, I try to closely monitor the movies I watch, and I absolutely do not buy fashion magazines. Yet I still can't escape messages everywhere that my entire body is ugly, including my large breasts because, as non-silicone-breasts, they don't stand at attention and the nipples are too big. I see this shit on advertisements, on newsstands, in the bedrooms of guys who are allegedly my friends, in newspapers, etc. In all reality, I'm probably a lot closer to meeting these standards than the majority of the female population because I'm thin, young, "well-endowed," I have long legs, big eyes, full lips, a small nose, and blah blah blah. Despite that, I still find myself feeling like complete shit most times when I look in the mirror, and I know if I'm having problems, a lot of other women must be as well.
I'm also bloody sick of having to elaborately make myself up before I go out anywhere, because I know none of my guy friends have to do this. Of course, they're also the first ones to say that the beauty standards women are held up to aren't unfair, and if I think so I'm just plain crazy (of course, men always have to bring conversations about women's equality back to a crazy woman). When I get into it with guy friends over their promotion of fascist beauty standards, usually resulting from some stupid movie they made me watch or giant poster displayed on the wall, the favored method of argument seems to be that since I'm not ugly, I shouldn't be bothered. Oh, right then. I'll just let the rest of my sisters burn in hell while I enjoy Most Favored Female status -- that is, until a prettier woman walks in the room and I become invisible again.
They also seem horrified that I could think I'm not pretty because, well, that would just mean I'm a terrible person! And then they'd be FRIENDS with a TERRIBLE PERSON! Which then might mean that they're TERRIBLE PEOPLE as well! (Oh, and did I mention that I'm never the one to start these conversations, because I don't like to criticize people's personal choices? Yet I always end up being the evil wench at the end.) Never, ever, in these conversations with my so-called guy friends have I ever heard them say that I just shouldn't let it bother me because beauty is a construct, because it's bullshit and what matters is that I'm a good person. I mean, I understand that men feel they have to tell women they're pretty, but they never couple the chicaloca-is-pretty argument with an argument that beauty doesn't matter, that they're friends with me because they like who I am. Because to them, beauty does matter. If it didn't, they wouldn't have only good-looking female friends. People can say all they want about how women are the ones who enforce horrible beauty standards on each other (like the intellectual midgets in the Lounge) but in all my life, no woman has ever made a disparaging comment about my looks. Men, however, comment on my looks all the time, often negatively, and they further reinforce my self-hatred with their stupid movies and posters and computer backgrounds and talk about "hawt" women. Sure, women police each other over beauty standards, but it's because we know men respond positively to beauty. It's the sad brilliance of patriarchy -- get the oppressed group to self-police so you don't have to do as much work, and then you can blame the problem on them when they try to change things, and they can get to infighting again. And so the cycle goes on and on.
(And before anybody responds, yes, I know the old arguments about how it's getting worse for guys, too, and I also know the one about how it gets easier when you hit your 30s or 40s because you just don't care anymore. Well, it's not half as bad for guys yet, and I've got a long ways to go before I hit my 30s. But even if it were my 30th birthday tomorrow, it still doesn't make it right that younger women have to be put through this miserable hell before they're allowed to have an ounce of self-esteem -- that is, if it's even true that most women experience increased confidence in their 30s. I know my mom didn't, because she's spent most of her life after popping out two babies being berated by my father for not getting back down to her pre-baby weight.)
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