There was a news article on NDTV (read about it here) about an Indian student's death in the United Kingdom believed to have been caused by weight loss pills. He was only 18. It made me really sad and I got to ruminating about the insane pressure to look good these days. So I just typed up some of my thoughts on the same and put it up on BI.
It could just be me, but there seems to be an incredible
amount of pressure to look beautiful all the damn time. Earlier, the onus was
entirely on celebs and they were and still are expected to hit the loo with
pancake and lipstick on. But since they are paid beaucoup bucks to look awesome
it is their problem if they get fat – shamed for daring to pile on the pounds
post pregnancy like Aishwarya Rai or slammed by the fashion police for daring
to wear their exorbitant designer togs twice(Gasp!). Nowadays, however,
everyone is expected to sport the celeb look and be perfectly groomed and
beautiful even when doing something unglamorous like taking out the trash.
If that
there were not bad enough there is society’s current definition of beauty to
contend with. Gone are the days when Rubens used his artistry to convince his
peers that pudgy brunettes were the epitome of beauty. In this brave new world,
a woman has to be skinny, possessed of alabaster – hued and blemish- free skin,
poker straight perfectly coiffed hair, pearly white teeth and a sartorial savvy
that includes a perfect willingness to sacrifice comfort for fashion. And it
goes without saying that stretch marks, cellulite, bodily hair, junk in the trunk,
unplucked eyebrows, uneven skin tone et al are the great destroyers of flawless
beauty. Wearing comfortable flat – heeled shoes that don’t aggravate your
acrophobia or your favorite pair of baggy pants and oversized tees that
actually allows for unconstricted respiration is guaranteed to provoke uncalled
for looks of withering scorn and sarcastic comments on how the frumpy, dumpy
look is working out for ya.
The problem
with gamely trying to become more beautiful than your maker intended you to be
is that it is far too much work to be any kind of fun and it is ridiculously
expensive. Agreed that working out is enjoyable and beneficial to good health,
but if one is hoping to give Jessica Biel a run for her money or give our very
own Bipasha Basu an inferiority complex, then the prescribed three hours a week
is not going to cut it. A person would need to clock in the same amount of time
in the gym as a regular 9 to 5 job and pay through the proverbial nose to get
the desired results. There is a shortcut of course and that is to starve/undergo
liposuction/use weight loss pills/steroids/develop an eating disorder/take up
smoking and risk certain death or other potentially long – term ailments to get
that deliciously malnourished look so prized by fashion designers, model
agencies and the rest of the beauty brigade.
Getting
skinny is only the beginning though. There is still the grooming process. Hard
earned money has to be blown up on the beauty parlors and spas that have
erupted like unsightly sores in every nook and corner of whichever part of the
globe you head to, demanding that you enter their portals and subject yourself
to the torture devices within so that you may be transformed from the ugly
duckling you currently are to a beautiful swan, for the right sum of course.
Waxing, manicures, pedicures, hair spa, hair straightening, coloring, oil
massages, facials, body polishing are some of the services that have to be
availed on a monthly nee weekly basis to keep from looking scruffy or just
natural (What a horrifying and utterly revolting thought!) And if all that
pampering has done nothing for a slightly crooked nose or smile lines, it is
time to look up a decent plastic surgeon who can deliver the goods.
A girl may
have puked for ten days straight before the compliments on her ravishing new
body start rolling in or she may have practically beggared herself to pay for
beauty treatments and plastic surgery but her quest for beauty is far from
complete. The next stop is Fifth Avenue or the Champs Elysees for the moneyed,
the nearest mall having a sale, or just about any store selling knockoffs for
the hoi polloi. After all, you are what you wear aren’t you? So it is
imperative that one invests in clothes, more clothes, accessories like scarves,
watches, handbags, jewelry, and shoes, shoes and more shoes and underwear that
is likely to asphyxiate your crotch. And it is a fashion boo boo to wear the
same thing more than once so that thing we learned in school – “Waste not, want
not” has to be unlearned asap.
I could be
way off base here, but surely there are more constructive ways to spend time
and money? Why are we all swearing by the adage that in order to feel good you
must look good? Isn’t it simpler to feel good about yourself and love whatever
the heck you see in the mirror? Even if the creature reflected in front of you has bushy
eyebrows, thinning hair, crooked teeth, a double chin, a zit or two and
absolutely no fashion sense to speak of? It is long overdue, but we need to
paraphrase Keats and start believing that a thing of fugly can also be a joy
forever if not for others (who cares about others anyway?) at least for the
precious self.
The original version appeared here.
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