After being inspired by Arielle’s post on Beauty, I had a brain dump on paper. This is a cleaned up version but it’s still a little all over. Beauty is an expansive subject. This is barely the tip of the iceberg.
Beauty is like this expensive gem that some 90 year old woman threw in the bottom of the big blue ocean never to be found again- like a smack in the face, MWAHA, no one else is beautiful because if I can’t have it at 90, you can’t ever have it! Ok, a lot exaggerated. But really, no matter how beautiful that gem was, if I had that, I would never wear it because it is clunky, people would look at me all the time, ask me where I got it, did I get it myself (then I must be rich), or that someone rich gave it to me (which will then turn into them trying to take my rich man away from me). I just don’t see the attraction in it!
When I refer to something as beautiful, I’m looking at meaning. I’m searching for pure raw emotion. If I’m overlooking a peak in the Garden of the Gods at broad landscape, it takes my breath away. Not because I find rolling meadows and electric poles against a blue sky that attractive but because it’s overwhelming. In my head, that landscape juxtaposes life and all of its possibilities. Here I am, small and looking out over what will be my life.
Beauty is not in clothes. It is not in jewelry. It is not in a made up face or manicured hand.
If I find something beautiful, it is because it made me feel something.
The opening of Up is beautiful. Not the characters, but their story. The little failures and successes that made up their life. Life is beautiful. Enjoying life makes us beautiful!
When I see Dita Von Teese or Ruby Joule dance, I’m entranced. They’re attractive women, sure, but “stripping” at the height of their intelligence using not only their bodies as expression but also their props and costumes to add to it. They know what they want the audience to see and feel. Note: I don’t swing this way but I know how to appreciate and you should to- no, really, it’s so much more fun than living in constant jealousy! These women make me feel empowered and that my body can be both a weapon and a gift. It’s not because they are “beautiful” but because they know that it takes more than just a pretty face to put on a really good show.
“Beauty”, in the societal sense, can only get us so far.
“Beauty” also has an expiration date.
I don’t wear make-up but maybe a few days out of the year. It’s partly because I don’t have the patience to learn techniques and it’s partly because I know I don’t need it. I actually love my face the way it is, zillions of freckles smothering freckles. Even the one creeper freckle on my very white and bare eyelid.
I don’t want to do yoga because it will help me age gracefully. I want to do it because it makes me feel good right now. The rest are just benefits.
I don’t want to be involved in the fat acceptance movement. I am overweight, but it’s one thing to accept my weight as is, and it’s a whole other thing to not do anything about it. I accept it, I accept others, but I do believe healthy is what we should be aiming at here. I’m going to climb that damn volcano!
And while I’m on the subject of fat, what the hell is it with plus size fashion?! I know how to coordinate a colored camisole with a sweater. You do not have to sew them together! I’m fat, not stupid! And another thing, fashion designer, putting your brand deliberately across your product does not make me personally look better so stop it. If someone likes your design, they will ask me where I got it and I will happily tell them so they, too, can look awe-some.
When my beau looks at me, I don’t want him to see my clothes, or my make-up, or get sidetracked my shiny jewelry hanging from my ears. I want him to see my blue eyes, my glowing, healthy skin. I want him to see my intelligence, my talent, my passion for life. I want him to see me.
Because I’m pretty wonderful.
Why would I want to hide that?