A movie scene that sticks in my head like a visual ear worm (partly because I have seen women say this as they preened in front of the mirror) is from “Muriel’s Wedding,” when Sophie Lee’s character runs out onto the road, as Muriel drives off into the happy distance, screaming “Oi’m beee-yooo-tiful!”
What makes women like the Sophie Lee character, or those footballer ho’s at the Beach Hotel, decide they’re beautiful? What makes a woman think she’s not? And why, at least in in our wealthy Western society, are we so fascinated with beauty, and associate such positive values to it, when in reality, beauty has no value or worth whatsoever. Why does it matter so much to us?
I’ll never forget Waris Dirie’s autobiography, “Desert Flower,” in which she talks about the qualities and human characteristics that her tribe admired in a person: strength and endurance to work long hours, good health, being a hard worker. In fact, in her native language, a word for human beauty does not even exist.
In England, a couple have given their five year old daughter plastic surgery to make her more “normal” looking, because they felt her appearance (she has Down’s Syndrome) would result in her being teased and ostracised at school. It’s true – children can be cruel, but children can also be amazingly accepting. The parents say that because society has not yet reached a place where it will be accepting of their daughter’s appearance, they have given her the surgery so that instead, she can fit in with society. You know, I think I understand how they came to this. What a sad indictment on our society. We are mad about beauty. Mad about it in a very abnormal way.
Our unhealthy obession with beauty causes us to admire and adulate those who are beautiful – for no reason other than their appearance. Just last week, Megan Gale made headlining news when she took to the catwalk for the last time. While I am sure Megan is an ace and lovely person, the news that she was giving up modelling is not exactly headline material. What notable, admirable or courageous thing has Megan ever done except be born beautiful and make frocks look good? Her beauty alone has made her a celebrity. This is really twisted.
Now that I’ve had my rant, I have to admit, it’s hard not to care. I know I get sucked in far too easily. I’ve spent ridiculous amounts on lotions and potions, designer labels, hair cuts and the list goes on. This is one reason I love getting out into the bush so much. All the “stuff” you think is important just fades away, and the “stuff” that really matters takes over.
For this reason, I can hardly wait for the Easter weekend. We’re heading up the coast for five days for a spot of bushwalking, camping out and hopefully some beach action if its warm enough. Woo hoo! I’ll be pulling out the daggy, comfy op-shop bargains to get down and dirty in. I won’t wash my hair for days, I’ll be wearing the same old shorts over and over, I’ll be amazed by the starry night sky and the fresh clean air and I’ll feel human again. It’ll be real.
