What’s Cookin’ Good Lookin’

The other day my loving boyfriend told me I was beautiful. I’d like to believe this to be true, but in the moment, I can’t help but feel that my being topless had something to do with it. The thing is, when someone tells me I’m 'sexy' or 'cute,' I am far more likely to believe it. Perhaps because I believe attitude has a lot to do with achieving those less-perfect labels. But beautiful, that’s a whole other story.

Today I came across an interesting article in the Atlantic Monthly, The Truth About Beauty, by Virginia Postrel. The article focuses on Dove’s “Campaign for Real Beauty,” that asserts, “Every girl deserves to feel beautiful just the way she is,” made popular through Dove’s viral video, Evolution:



It would be pretty to think so, but pretty everyone is not.

Postrel’s main argument squashes the idea behind the Dove campaign, countering that “Beauty is not just a social construct, and not every girl is beautiful just the way she is.” This reminds me of one of my favorite Mom-isms. When I was in middle school, I was an awkward and geeky girl, if you don’t believe me, then check out this picture:



One day I came home from school feeling especially unattractive after catching a note that a couple of boys were passing around with my face drawn on a horse’s head. Once home, I turned to my mother, crying, and asked her why I couldn’t be pretty like other girls. She said to me, “Erika, these are your Ugly Years… this is the ugliest you are ever going to be.” I responded by bursting into tears. My mother has never been one to sugarcoat anything, but the funny thing is, she was absolutely right. Nobody cared about my shimmering personality – hell, even I didn’t care about my personality. And little girls across the country looking in the mirror right now don’t give a damn either.

Postrel continues to explain that, “beauty exists, and it’s unevenly distributed.” She sites the numerous studies on how our eyes and brains consistently like some human forms rather than others. So what about this whole lovey Dove-y idea that “real women” are beautiful, too? At the end of the day it’s advertising. “Even the most zaftig had relatively flat stomachs and clearly defined waists… Dove diversified the portrait of beauty without abandoning the concept altogether.” Dove doesn't want to improve my self-esteem, they want me to buy some firming body wash.

So what’s my point, then? What am I rambling about? Why am I eating chocolates and sipping wine as I write this blog?

I know I'm no beauty queen but damn, it's nice to have a boy whisper sweet things in your ear. Crazy thing is, I think he just might mean it, and if so, well, I guess I'm saying that's good enough for me.