Showing posts with label beauty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beauty. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Pull Your Hair Out



In response to my request to 
Veet 
Asking them to remove their ads
Purporting that hairiness will turn a woman into a man
My friend wrote about 
“The poor girl 
With the hair on her upper lip”
Poor 
As in tragic, bad, ugly
Because she was born into a society
That deems body hair
On women
Ugly, unwanted, uncool
Unfeminine 

I read a book as a child 
The story of a baby
From the baby’s perspective 
Where 
Daddy = hairy
Mummy = smooth 
And I thought 
Well, I’ll never be a mother 
At least not the quintessential one
Because I’m not smooth
I am hairy

And I grew up in a family
Where that was a bad thing
Hair = Ugly 
And must be shaved off 
Gotten rid of
My body was a place of shame and disgust
This notion reinforced by 
Magazines, films, music videos where
Women did not have hair
And those who did
Were Unattractive 
Or Hippies or Deviants and Therefore
Socially. Unacceptable. 

And for someone who is 
Naturally hairy
That is utterly, utterly crushing
It made me nervous to go swimming
Terrified to wear a bikini
“But you’re so skinny! Show off your body!”
I could never say why I was afraid
Being hairy was less than womanly, less than feminine 
Less than human 

We live in a world
Where there exists a 
Multi-billion dollar industry
For the removal of hair
Waxes, razors, lazers
Bleaches 
Lotions, creams, gels
Epilators, tweezers
And sprays 
To serve the purpose of 
“Looking Good”

There was a magazine
In the University Women’s Room 
(A safe space for women)
That someone had defaced
By drawing hair on the models
Adding in eyebrow hairs
Underarm hairs
And sprouting pubic hairs 
And I thought it was shocking
That someone would do that 
Hair was Ugly. Inappropriate. 
Distressing. 

Let me say this
Because no one ever said it to me
In varying degrees of
Darkness, thickness, and density 
Women. Have. Hair. 
On our heads 
On our legs, on our arms
On our hands
On our knuckles 
On our feet 
On our bellies 
On our lower backs
On our nipples
On our pubic bone
In our underarms
On our upper lips 
Sometimes even from the chin
And cheeks. 
Women. Have. Hair. 
It is not ugly.
It is convention, history, and the desire to control women’s bodies
And what happens in them and on them
That states that hair on women, in particular places, is ugly. 

Hairiness does not make you less attractive
Hairiness does not make you a failure at life
Hairiness does not denote how feminine or masculine you are
It exists.
And it is a Woman’s. Personal. Choice. 
Whether she wants to get rid of it or not. 
Stubble on her legs 
Does not make her manly. 
Hair on her upper lip
Does not make her ugly, unfeminine, or unworthy

If your judgements on a human being
Go no further than the presence of hair
I ask you to please
Re-assess. 
The world is full of far more important things
Worth pulling your hair out for 

The end. 

For an amazing story about dealing with hair, go here

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Beauty and the Beast


An ad came out recently. It talks about "real beauty". I hate it. The cheesy music. The soft lighting. The way we are so judgemental of ourselves. The way our society venerates looks. The way the video is re-posted all over the place. Right now, our society says BEAUTY is:

Boobs (they must be big and round and on display. They are not appropriate when feeding babies)
Eyes (blue is preferable)
Ass (must be swished and jiggled and worn with shorts)
Unattainable (a "beautiful" person must be aloof, not part of the real world, on a pedastal, photoshopped)
Thin (because "plus" size models start at a size12)
Young (old = wrinkles, saggy, skin spots = ugly)

I'm sick of the beautiful/ugly dichotomy. I'm sick of "beauty" being only about snap-judgements and labels of "hot or not". I'm sick of discussions that ask if feminism is being feminist if it asks women to love how they look no matter what and not buy into consumerist culture notions of beauty. What if "beauty" meant something else entirely?

Brains (use them. Learn an instrument, learn a language, study astronomy, do math problems, read widely, learn about history and science... I'm into humanities. I love reading. I love writing. But I'm not so fussed what you do, just use your brain to LEARN! There is so much in this world! Infinitesimal things to learn and explore! GO TO IT!)
Ethics (is what you do harmful to others, or to the planet?) 
Attitude (anything is possible. People who are naysayers are awful to be around. I don't advocate positivity 100% of the time. It's not human. BUT! Oh, what we could change if people had a nicer attitude toward the world around them.)
Understanding (having empathy for the people around you. Walking in someone else's shoes. Investigating a situation in order to have more knowledge about it.)
Tenacity (having an inner strength) 
Y? (as in "why?" I realize I am cheating a little here. But it's my poem and I'll bend the rules if I want to. Question everything around you. Why is beauty about image? Why are women controlled through the media? Why are women subjucated and treated as mere physical objects? Why does the porn industry have such a stronghold over what "beauty" is, encouraging us to wax and preen and value ourselves purely on looks?)

To me, a "beautiful" person is someone with intelligence, integrity, and vivacity. That is the beauty I seek. That is the beauty I crave. And as for THAT ad. Their "beauty" is only skin deep. And no amount of face cream, soap, or shiny advertising, will scrub away the hypocrisy of a global conglomerate selling "beauty" products in the name of empowerment. 

The end. 

Saturday, January 26, 2013

The Streets of London

Picture by Eric Magnuson

Imagine the mercury
Has risen to 7 degrees celsius
And it feels practically balmy
You don't even need a scarf
Or a beannie
And it's windy
The kind of fresh strong breeze
That exhilarates
That suggests
Change is in the air
Which way is it blowing?

And despite the wind
And the patchy rain
The streets are incredibly busy
Bustling and jostling
And all the cliches of a crowded city
And you hear an Australian voice say behind you
"God, I don't know how they live like this!"
And it makes you laugh
And you actually turn around and smile at him
Because we're in London!
One of the oldest cities!
Isn't it wonderful?!

And you ride home on the Tube
And you walk home to your flat
And you think
Here I am.

The end.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Es ist ein Ros enstsprung


It's cold
And rainy
And miserable
And you sit on the tube
And wish desperately you could
Apparate to your apartment

And you put your ipod on shuffle
And let the music transport you instead
And a piece you know
But haven't heard for a while
Begins to play
And the voices are soothing
And quieting
And remind you to breathe
And be still

And you feel
Much better
And you make it home
For hot chocolate

The end.

Friday, January 11, 2013

To See



Whilst I was running in the park
A photographer had stopped on the grass
And was looking up at a tree
A kite had been left in the empty branches
Looking like an overgrown leaf
Like the tree had mustered the last of its autumnal energy
Combined all its palette into one gigantuan effort 
And pushed out a fabulous frond in bright technicolor glory

And with my eyes opened 
I later spotted a blossom tree in full bloom 
In the middle of winter! 
It was so pretty
So unexpected! 

And I gave silent thanks
To the photographer
Whose eyes I hadn't even met
For helping me to see 
Close up

The end. 

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Autumn Afternoon



The sky is melt-your-heart-blue, and it has been snowing white flowers all over the back corner of the garden. When you go for a closer look you discover three small toadstools. There must be fairies at the bottom of the garden for all this enchantment. The breeze is warm and the air smells like change. It is nice.  


Sunday, December 5, 2010

La Vie En Rose


I have just watched the most wonderful film. Based upon it’s themes and story, none of it was what you would call uplifting or immediately identify as inspiring. The Great War. Alcoholism. Addiction. Abandonment. Failed parenting. Unrequited love. Affairs. Death. Loss. Grief. Music. La Vie En Rose is the tragic story of Edith Piaf, the French songstress who wooed the world with her hearty Parisian vocals and lived a most tortured and sad existence. It seems that for all the joy Edith Piaf brought into the world with her beautiful voice, she was destined to suffer endless tragedy and hardship in her own personal life. 
The film, starring Marion Cotillard as the “little sparrow,” is stunning. The way the film plays with time, jumping back and forth from the famous and established, yet quivering wreck of a grown up, Edith Piaf to her sylph of a childhood self, is gut wrenching. We want life to get better, and are continually devastated when it never does. It is the magical performance of Marion Cotillard that inspires me in this film. Her performance is utterly stunning, and absolutely deserving of the seven different Best Actress awards she garnered for her performance. 
In the midst of the worst, there is always beauty. The sparkle behind the eyes. The living, the breathing. The working at your craft when you are tired, miserable, fed up, feeling like all in the world is lost to you. The gift of music, of living for your craft because there is nothing else to live for. That is powerful stuff, and the kind of stuff that grips you at your very heart and soul. Marion Cottilard, and all the myriad of people involved in the making of La Vie En Rose, thank you.