This is me giving in to the trend of Throwback Thursdays, where everyone posts an old photo of themselves or something. I’ve decided to use it as away to revisit old blogs – from MySpace (remember that place?). These are unedited* and represent my state of mind at the time. As for MySpace, don’t try and find me there – account has been deleted.
Originally Posted July 13, 2006
I’ve been going through one of those things lately.
You know when everyday is a bad hair day, you’re just not pretty enough, tall enough or thin enough. Yes, even I have “I feel fat” days – and I know I’m not. But when you look at the pictures you spend a fortune on and you think you look pretty good and then you submit yourself for roles that ask for the “cute” girl…but you don’t get the call…
…it can mess with your mind.
I live and work in a town that is based on a business that has an unnatural standard of beauty. I learned a long time ago not to submit myself for the “super hot girl” or the “absolutely beautiful woman”. But I’m also apparently a little too pretty to be considered average. I’m not black enough for the “black/African American” but a bit too black for the “any ethnicity”.
I’m in a typecasting no man’s land.
To clear my head I recently went to the Getty Museum and walked around all afternoon. It was a beautiful southern California day…warm and sunny…with a slight breeze so that it wasn’t too hot.
I love ancient art and sculpture, so I spent a lot of time in the Greek and Roman displays. I came upon a painting of Venus trying to stop Apollo from leaving. My first thought was “damn, even Venus has trouble keeping a man!” But then I kept looking at the picture. I stared for quite awhile…and then I realized something…
Venus had cellulite.
There she was – wide hips, alabaster skin…and little dimples on her naked butt. My next thought was…maybe that’s why Apollo was trying to get away.
Since Venus was (is?) the Goddess of Beauty there were lots of tributes to her in sculptures and paintings. After seeing her cellulite…I noticed other things. She had extremely thin lips – obviously, she hadn’t learned the value of collagen injections (or being black). She had an ass that would definitely get her cast as a plus size model by today’s standards. The goddesses must not have had Pilates classes either because, trust me, Venus’ stomach was about as flat as the earth was back then. And don’t get me started on her non-existent breasts.
The most remarkable thing about all of these tributes to the Goddess of Beauty was that she was an interpretation….an imagined woman…a standard of beauty created out of the imagination of men….for men.
This truly imperfect woman was, in their mind, ideal.
The funk I was in is rare. Unlike a lot of my girlfriends, I’m pretty happy with who I am and what I look like. At this point in my life I’ve realized this is what I look like. This is what God’s given me to work with it and it doesn’t help to get upset about it. I take care of what I have and always try to give the best presentation of self.
But now after my visit to the museum, I have something else to remind my girlfriends and myself of what we have going for us the next time we start feeling bad about ourselves in this sea of breast implanted, collagen injected, botoxed barbie doll standards of beauty: Venus had thin lips, small breasts, a stomach pouch, thick thighs, wide hips…and cellulite.
And she was a fucking goddess.
*Original post may have been corrected for spelling and punctuation mistakes – not that a lot of that existed. *sheepish grin*