Sunday, January 27, 2019

Old Porn and Eyebrows

Cable TV came to my neighborhood when I was in my early teens.  The cool little black box with the twisty knob that had, like, maybe 20 channels instead of the six we had since the dawn of time.  Thus began the brief era when MTV played music and movie channels played movies.

No, seriously.

The movies they showed weren't like anything I had seen.  Not that my life was all that sheltered but at that point I was still a bit young to be going to R-rated movies.  But my parents didn't care what I watched on TV so, there in my living room in the late 70's, I clearly remember thinking "Wait....is that what boobs are supposed to look like?"

Up until that point the only breasts I had seen were my own and my mom's.  I attributed the difference between hers and mine to the fact that she was "old".  Later, I don't remember if I asked or if this was one of the many, MANY pieces of unsolicited, personal information she insisted on giving me, but I learned that it was my fault they were that way.  They were long and low because she had me.

My bad.

But back to cable TV.  After that first questioning "is that what they're supposed to look like?" thought, I got my answer.  Over and over and over again.  Yes.  Yes that is what they're supposed to look like.  And yours are weird.

Years went by.  And I went along my merry, weird-breasted way.  .

Then one day, and I don't even remember how, I saw an old porn movie from the 60's.  As soon as it came up on the screen everything changed.  This lady on the screen, with her unshaved you-kjnow-what and her ever-so-slight hint of a human being's stomach, slightly disheveled hair and super long eye lashes....her boobs were like mine!  Because, guess what!  Her boobs were real!

Now for those of you wondering how I could go for YEARS not know movie boobs were fake, please understand that this was long, LONG before the internet.  And the terms 'boob job' and 'plastic surgery' were not part Midwestern '70's or even '80's vernacular.

So I guess that's something kids today have going for them.   But still I worry.

I mean fast forward to today.  I look at the eyebrows of almost every 'pretty girl' on TV.  They're all the same.  Dark, identically shaped, meticulously filled in and dense, with razor sharp edges.  Is it really possible that every girl born after 1995 has Kardashian eyebrows?  Is it something in the water?  No.  It's just how you're "supposed to look" now.

This is obviously just a new expectation in a line of expectations as old as time.  But does that make it ok?  As society is finally starting (ever so slowly) to embrace the idea that all bodies don't have to look the same, can't we maybe start to make it OK to face the world with the hair and facial features you were born with and evolved into?

As a woman of "a certain age" (ugh) I am faced every day in the mirror with a woman who I know will never again be considered pretty or cute or sexy and trust me, I've made my peace with that.  And while I admit to silently judging women my age who fight the aging process with every fiber of their being, at the expense of their dignity, I try to remind myself "you do you".  If grasping at any last threat of youthful sexuality makes you feel good, then honey go for it.  We should all do what makes us feel good FOR OURSELVES.

But what bothers me is society's (or is it the media's?) insistence that ANYTHING NATURAL is not normal or acceptable.  Most recently, this article came across my news feed.  The headline reading "35 Incredible Transformations That Show How Ordinary People Can Dramatically Improve their Looks".

Oh dear God no.  How dare they be ORDINARY?

The "before" pictures all show people who had the audacity to wake up, presumably shower, put on clean clothes, a minimal amount of make-up and then inflict their faces and bodies on the rest of the world. The horror.

The after pictures erase any trace of gray hair, about 90% of wrinkles, any sign of natural brow or skin-tone.  Natural hairstyles are replaced with dyed or highlighted, razor cut, flat ironed or curled masterpieces which I'm sure would add at least a half hour to their morning routine.  In almost every case flat, comfortable-looking shoes are replaced with high heels.  Glasses are replaced with contacts.

In one instance a 36 year old woman's shoulder-length, wavy hair is cut in a short pixie, with the color deepened from a natural-looking brown to a deep chocolate.  Her already beautiful skin-tone is replaced with that of a department store mannequin.  Tasteful eyeliner has been added, along with blush, mascara and a glossy lip.  And someone commented "I love how natural she looks after the change".  Really?  This woman was naturally GORGEOUS.  But she looked like a human being.  And we can't have that, can we?

What is the purpose of an article like this?  Is it to show that you, too, can throw off the burden of looking like a living, breathing person?  Are women rushing out to salons everywhere with anguished, tandem cries of "Help!  I look ALIVE!"?  Because I feel like too many are either doing that or feeling bad because they don't have the money, time or bone structure to permanently masquerade as America's Next Top Model.

And really, it may be the unattainable nature of that new "standard" that has me throwing up my hands in surrender.  I'm never going to look like a Kardashian.  I have wrinkles and jowls and more than the factory standard number of chins.  So why try?

What I find especially disturbing, maybe because I have a son, is that this trend seems to be spreading to men.  Videos are cropping up now where men are having their cheeks (along with the INSIDES of their nostrils...OMG no thank you!) waxed to provide a perfectly defined, curved line between cheek and beard.  Their eyebrows are being plucked and shaped and trimmed (but, thankfully, not Kardashianized yet) and their HAIRLINES are even being sharply defined with straight razors.  Now, I'll admit that when I first saw this I thought it was about time they felt a small measure of the pressure women have endured for centuries.  But then I started to feel bad for them.  When does it stop?  When can we just...BE?

I have friends who like to wear makeup.  They consider it fun and creative and I'm happy for them that they've found something they enjoy.  I see that choice as no different than my choice of having tattoos or sparkly nails.  That's not what this is about.  This is about the fact that I don't feel worthy of going out to a restaurant or a bar unless I put on at least foundation, powder and mascara.  It's about the fact that I spend $100 and two hours twice a year applying a keratin treatment to my hair because otherwise I'd have to spend a half hour a day blow drying and straightening it in order to appear even remotely professionally acceptable.  These are things that men have never had to worry about.

Well not yet.

I know style is a constantly changing thing, and I thank my lucky stars that I don't live in the time of corsets or crinoline.  But I really do feel like we're going in the wrong direction the last five years or so.  I worry about the little girls that will be teenagers soon.  The ones who would rather play in the dirt than with dolls, or play softball instead of cheer.  Because no matter how much natural beauty they have, inside or out, NOBODY is born with the features that are popular right now.  I'm afraid it will take more and more work and money just to look "normal".  Because normal is getting farther and farther away from what's natural.

Avert your eyes......

Unfiltered photo of an actual human being.  

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Ahead may lie shit.

It's been over a year since I've written more than an email or Facebook post.  I'm a slacker.  I'm uninspired and I'm blocked and I'm all of those excuses that writers pull out when they're not writing.  And it's bullshit.  Well I mean it's all true, for sure.  But it's still bullshit.  I need to be writing.  Writing makes me happy and I have the time.  Dear God do I ever have the time.

They say there are two things writers do consistently.  They read and they write.  I've been doing neither.  So today I will start reading in the hopes that I can write some non-shit.  Because I've tried to write a few times over the past year and before clicking that scary "Publish" button up there I've decided it wasn't fit for public viewing.  I'm stuck in this weird loop where what I'm writing isn't good enough so I just...don't.  As if that solves the problem.  If the end goal is to write then how is not writing getting me any closer to that goal? 

I'm a real dumbass sometimes.

So I'm telling you now.  Ahead may lie shit.  Don't say I didn't warn you. 

I'm not going to sit here and say I'm going to write every day, because.....well let's get real.  This is not a New Years resolution.  It is honestly pure coincidence that it's January 1 at all.  I'm just saying it's time for me to start banging on the keyboard again for me.  And if something worthwhile comes out of it, great.  If not, well then what have I lost? 

So even though the timing of this semi-declaration has more to do with the fact that I'm not working today than it does with the date on the calendar, I'm going to talk a little bit about 2018, bitch that it was.  It definitely wasn't my favorite year.  It was pretty painful to tell you the truth.  But some great things have come out of it too.

For most of my life I've had only one or two close friends at a time, and I've been happy with that. I've never been one of these people who intentionally didn't let people in, but I also never really put myself out there.  Well in 2018 I discovered what it's like to have a group of friends.  And while it has been an overwhelmingly positive experience, I also found out what it's like to discover that I let someone in who I shouldn't have.  Now I understand why people put up walls.  It's a hard thing not to do when someone you trusted turns out to be batshit crazy.  But I'm choosing to value the new friends I gained in 2018 rather than focus on the ones who turned out to be toxic.  I love my new-found tribe and I wouldn't trade them for the world. 

Cutting the crazy out started a domino effect that led to one of the most important parts of my life being taken away from me.  And I've been sitting around stewing in my anger about that for a couple of months now.  Don't get me wrong...the anger is very much still there, and I don't see it going anywhere soon.  But the upside is that I now find myself with about 20 free hours a week that I used to devote to dog rescue.  I need to fill that time with something that doesn't involve alcohol, cigarettes or Netflix.  And while I've resisted the urge to wall myself off from people, I will never again pour my heart and soul into something that can be taken away from me by someone who would, dogs be damned, just because she can.

Nobody can take this from me.  So here I am.  Looking at that damn Publish button.  To push or not to push?  Here we go.....