I have a bit of weakness
for celebrity gossip (let she who is without guilty pleasures cast the
first stone). So of course I clicked on a link to an article called, “Stars who
are average Plain Janes in real life” (http://www.hollywoodlollipop.com/articles/view/192).
And do you know who I saw there?
My friends.
My sister.
My mom.
Myself.
Underneath the
flawless, thickly layered make-up and big hair, these women look like Cape Town
hipsters on a grocery run.
That’s nothing new - celebrities
are only human, bla-bla-bla. But what upsets me is the suggestion that, without
all the artificial stuff, these women are not beautiful. They are plain,
unnoticeable, boring, average.
Ugly.
So what does that say
about us mere mortals, who on our best days look like these women do on their
“worst”? If you cannot be considered beautiful without a face full of
creams and powders, and hair that billows in the hairspray, and boobs that
(look like they) defy gravity, and (most importantly) pictures taken in perfect
light and photoshopped to perfection, are any of us really beautiful?
It seems that wanting
to be beautiful is a bit like wanting to win the Tour de France – it’s not
going to happen if you’re not willing to use what everybody else is using. So unless you're going to take a leaf out of Lance Armstrong’s book, then darling,
prepare to go through life unnoticed and unappreciated.
Or
What if tomorrow you
gave your make-up the day off, looked your reflection straight in her unlined
eyes, and said, “Hey there, beautiful.”
I wonder how many of us
would believe ourselves.
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