Mirror Mirror on The Wall: Why Is Talking About How We Feel About Our Looks So Hard?
Here’s a question that’s guaranteed to get any kitchen table conversation going: have you ever considered cosmetic surgery? Would you ever consider cosmetic surgery?
Get some women together – yes, it has to be women – and try it. Ask the question. Maybe everyone will be horrified that you even asked the question. Maybe everyone will say OH GOD NO WAY NEVER. Or maybe it will sound something like this:
Woman: No, never.
Other Woman: Oh god, no! Inject myself with poison? Allow someone to cut into my face? NEVER!
Woman Beside The First Woman: What would the message be to my daughter? No way!
(After a bottle of wine…)
Woman: Maybe if it didn’t cost so much, and if it were risk-free…
Other Woman: Is it really so different from fixing your teeth or coloring your hair?
WBTFW: (whispers) Boob lift.
I’m not saying that every such conversation would go this way. I’m not saying that most such conversations would go this way. I’m saying that probably lots of them would. Certainly the ones that I’ve had, have gone that way. And I’ve had a lot of those conversations, because I’ve thought a lot about cosmetic surgery, because I’ve always hated my nose. Like, seriously hated. I’m mostly over it now, but for a long time, I wasn’t, and so, for a long time, I thought about getting it fixed. And so I’d bring it up in conversation with close girlfriends sometimes, always in the context of ‘oh god you guys did Sarah Jessica Parker totally get her nose done?’, and always with the intention of gleaning confessions about like desires. Such confessions always came. One friend would get her nose done. Another would get knockers lifted. Another wondered about Botox, ‘just a little though, you know?’
But always, it was only ever a conversation that you could have among close friends, because talking about doing something to change or improve your appearance always seems to signal insecurity about your appearance, and most people are generally pretty touchy about revealing that kind of thing. Also, there’s that whole cultural thing about it being somehow counter-feminist to want to alter your appearance. Strong women don’t care about that kind of thing. Strong women resist cultural messages about beauty. Strong women stay real, even if real exists on a blurry spectrum that runs from not shaving legs to plucking eyebrows to using eye cream to coloring hair to ‘having work done.’
And then we become mothers, and it’s all about, what message do we send to our daughters? The Good Mother is very careful about what messages she sends to her daughter about beauty. The Good Mother worries even over lipstick.
It’s complicated, obviously. I want to embrace myself as I am. I want my daughter to embrace herself as she is. At the same time, however, I’m lying if I say that there isn’t stuff that I want to change, that I actively – through diet and exercise and creams and whatnot – try to change, or at least manage. And I’m lying if I say that I think that that activity is disempowering: on the contrary, isn’t being self-determining about one’s self the very definition of empowering? If I don’t like something about myself, why should I not aim to change it? Can we not be reflective and interrogative about cultural messages around beauty and still embrace our own desires to feel beautiful? Should we deny those desires? Why is this all so hard?
Why am I going on and on about this? One of our own – the divine Ali Wentworth – has decided to be self-determining about her own fine self, and do something about a part of herself that she doesn’t like. And she’s sharing her very frank reflections on the process on her vlog, and hoping to start a conversation about the whole beauty thing, beginning with the question why is this all so hard to talk about? and hopefully ending somewhere awesomely fascinating and empowering and maybe even useful.
So check out her story. Leave your questions and comments here or there, and let’s start talking.
not usually one to offer up such tidbits, BUT there’s a certain issue that my wife is considering, and while i’m not 100% into cosmetic plastic surgery, i’m still 100% supportive of her should she choose to get this done. what i hate, though, is when people get so much plastic surgery that they fail to look their age. and what i mean by that is NOT someone who looks youthful. i mean someone who looks like their face is pulled so tight it could pop. that their lips double as floatation devices and their boobs are touching their nose at age…70.
because such people, IMO, don’t look comfortable in their own skin. which, to me, is the very definition of beautiful. being comfortable in your skin.
but, it’s a slippery slope to be certain, and a difficult one to broadstroke with a “yes, i’m okay with it” or “no i’m not okay with it.”
Great post. And your nose is adorable.
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http://the-quiet-corner.blogspot.com/
I don´t have a problem about expressing my desire of having a liposuction. I would love to go back to my tiny waist and flat abs. I know the ideal would be to work out hard, but it´s no true, having 35 would never be the same as having 20. I would be scared about dying and leaving my kids without a mother for a crazy wish, but putting that concern aside, why not giving yourself the chance to look better and feel better if that´s what you want? I love and accept myself and teach my children the same, but I have nothing against surgery, I think this is good idea if safe, but everybody is different and priorities are not the same for everyone :) :)
I find this whole discussion very interesting, because I’ve been in that place where you dislike something about your body so much that it prevents you from being your true self. I’ve also experienced the freedom that comes when you finally feel confident in your own skin. It’s not an understatement to say that it’s life-changing.
The reality is that, regardless of how others see us, it’s how we feel about ourselves that matters. People undergo procedures every day to change their appearance. They get braces, fix spider veins, and undergo laser eye surgery. Heck, even some babies have their babies’ ears pinned back. When the size of my chest kept me from getting involved in sports and gave me back problems, I had no trouble making the necessary adjustments. Undergoing plastic surgery has had consequences that I didn’t fully consider when I was 20, but I don’t really regret my decision at all.
I guess what it comes to down to – for me – is who am I to tell someone who has had three babies suck the life out of her boobs that she should just embrace her new body? It may not be for everyone, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be for anyone.
Ah, where do I start? I’ve hated parts of my body to the point of hating MYSELF, and actually have had corrective surgery on my feet (but it is not considered *cosmetic* surgery, as it also had medical benefits).
Being born with spina bifida, I should be the poster child for insecurity with my own body. But I also do my best to celebrate my beautiful, God-given attributes. I wear makeup. I love going to the salon to get my hair done. And no, I don’t believe doing ANY of this actually means you hate yourself.
I think it’s a matter of accepting that I’ll never be 100% happy (surgery and all!) with a part of my body, but still taking care of myself and learning to not resent myself for it. ((Hugs!))
Something that bothers me is when people (obv not you, HBM) say that cosmetic surgery (or *their* surgery anyway – not like *her* surgery) has nothing to do with patriarchy. It bothers me not because I think they’re lying or disingenuous or anything like that but because it’s a sign that the discussion is very unproductive. “It has nothing to do with patriarchy!” sounds defensive (and it might actually be) but people shouldn’t be feeling like they need to be defending anything, cuz, here’s the thing with patriarchy: in many, many cases, you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. So it is with appearances. Patriarchy will reward you if you embody and/or perform certain beauty standards. But there is always a price.
I changed my name when I got married, and that was my choice, but that does not mean that it has nothing to do with patriarchy. It very clearly does. People do not change (or keep) their names in a vacuum. People do not choose (or reject) cosmetic surgery in a vacuum. Sometimes feminists find that the best decision for *them* also happens to seem in line with patriarchy. Which makes them complex human beings, not necessarily hypocrites or self-loathing. not that our minds haven’t been colonized or that we aren’t hypocritical at times. See *my* surgery vs. *her* surgery.
Anyway, I clearly fall mainly in the “Fuck the Patriarchy”/”It’s About Our Daughters”/”It’s Also About Our Sons’ Expectations” camp.
*drinks three shots*
medical-risk free, I’d consider a boob reduction.
This is so hard. I’ve been thinking about my own insecurities a lot lately, and I keep landing on the fact that what I wish for most is NOT that I look a certain way (though, of course, I do wish for that.) What I wish for most is to HAVE CONFIDENCE about the way I look. To LIKE how I look. To NOT feel competitive with other women. And I just don’t know how to do that.
Thanks for such a thoughtful post. You articulate certain things for me I’ve been trying to verbalize. Like this:
“…talking about doing something to change or improve your appearance always seems to signal insecurity about your appearance, and most people are generally pretty touchy about revealing that kind of thing.” I wish I could talk about the insecurities I have without worrying if I’m annoying my friends or triggering their own insecurities. And without wondering if I sound like I’m fishing for compliments or reassurance. Sometimes all I really want is to commiserate.
Anyhow, thanks again.
It is such a sensitive and complicated issue and my opinion wavers. I haven’t had any done and I don’t plan to but I don’t judge others for doing it.
Nothin wrong with yer nose, hon. I’d like to hear one woman, just once, yell: “I love my nose!”
I’ve never liked mine, looks like my Dad’s, not long but sharp, pointy, now with a slight bump in it as the result of an accidental head-butt delivered by my then 2 year old daughter. But, know what? I don’t dislike my nose enough to have a doc take a hammer and chisle to it.
My breasts are larger but less perky after breastfeeding 2 baby girls, but with the right bra, my Ladies rock! I wouldn’t let a doc slice and lift them.
My husband says it is the slight imperfections of a woman that make a woman perfect.