Monday, February 13, 2006

"The Eye of the Beholder" : A note on beauty, for Valentine's Day

Beauty.
Anyone who has waited patiently in a supermarket checkout line has been inundated with its selling appeal. Seemingly, the secret to acquiring the right look and style lies just behind the covers of countless magazines which make millions of dollars per year marketing to those who seek to attain this societal definition of beauty. Too often we are left to believe that it is achievable only through a certain type of clothing, or a hairstyle, or the perfect smile. Through a tangled web of stereotypes and sexuality, we are left wondering how we can meet this level of physical perfection that is so readily, though inconsistently, defined by popular culture. Beauty has become a status symbol, a proof of success, an acknowledgment of sexual prowess, and a road to happiness. We define ourselves by how we look compared to the models and celebrities of our generation who pose seductively for us as we wait to pay for our laundry detergent and loaf of bread. And although Americans spend a great deal of their income on becoming more attractive, I believe we have lost the handle on what beauty is, or should be.
As I have begun to age and enter into my thirties, I often laugh at the trials that I put myself through in the journey toward beauty. My teen years were full of anguish in my failed attempts at convincing my mother to buy certain brands of clothes which I knew would surely lead to greater recognition within my social circles, uplifting me to a status that would cause women to swoon uncontrollably in my presence. My male adversaries would likewise develop such awe and jealousy that I would be assured instant popularity, allowing me to pick whichever woman that I wanted. Unfortunately, economic conditions during my adolescence being what they were, I was generally left perusing the racks at outlet malls which carried the cool brands of last season at a discount.
To make up for this, I made regular trips to the barbershop. On the walls, there were dozens of pictures of clean-cut or curly-headed handsome men who smiled knowingly at me, hinting at how their appearance could be duplicated for my own success. The cuts I received were an imitation of what I had seen there, but mornings before school rarely left time for the primping necessary to achieve the desired look. More often than not, a wet comb was the only instrument available to keep my hair from looking like a complete disaster, and I often could only hope that it wouldn’t be sticking up by the time I caught the school bus.
Needless to say, my poor attempts at attaining beauty were generally failing in practically every regard. My thin frame did not allow me to put on the abundance of showy muscle glorified by fitness magazines, nor did any facial creams or ointments give my face the glowing, healthy appearance that I had seen portrayed by people in commercials. No perfume or cologne, no matter how immoderately applied, produced those long, sensational kisses which I had seen in magazines and so desperately longed for. From a physical standpoint, my youthful search for beauty generally ended in a sense of shame and supreme disappointment. Realizing that physical beauty was not a matter of supreme importance was not a concept I was able to comprehend then.
But age does a lot to change one’s ways of thinking. I believe I have finally gotten a grasp on beauty, and I still maintain that it is an essential characteristic for everyone and everything in life. My definition of beauty has definitely changed. At one time the word was inseparable from the idea of physical perfection. Now I can say that watching my daughter sleep soundly and wondering what she is dreaming of is beautiful to me. Beauty is my son kicking a soccer ball in the backyard while the sun sets slowly in the west. Beauty is seeing the look on my mother’s face during the holidays, when all of her children are gathered together, filling her house with laughter and tales of our childhood. Beauty is enjoying my life and those things around me. It is not only the look of something, but also the pleasurable feeling that it fills you with which inspires you to fully appreciate those things around you. Whether it is your wife, or your children, or a cool autumn rain, beauty lies in all these things. And it doesn’t fade; it lingers.

***********P.S.-- I am eagerly awaiting a whirlwhind of scathing comments.

1 Comments:

At Mon Feb 13, 11:12:00 PM, Blogger Andi said...

Why would we scathe? Hmm?

 

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