Poor Miley

Okay, I have to say something about Disney Princesses.

Not these:



...these:



...and this one in particular:



I just get so sad looking at her.

Why do Disney child actors, girls in particular, "grow up" by becoming icons of sexual indulgence? They inevitably go to the extreme when it comes to proving their emergence from innocent childhood and appealing to an older audience...although I'm afraid this audience is getting younger and younger.

Growing up means so much more than opening yourself up to sexual activity. Why can't these actors and pop singers prove that they are "all grown up" by demonstrating mature decision-making and intellectual development? I get so disturbed watching the latest performances by Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez. They are nothing but objects of the media. It's a sick kind of social slavery. They (the singers and the media) know what sells, and unfortunately this ends up perpetuating male-dominant/female-abused behaviors.

I can't place all the blame on the celebrities themselves. We, the consumers, demand the supply of racy, shocking, disturbing, and outright sick displays we see. And the agents working with the stars tell them what to do in order to sell albums and get publicity. Sadly, that's what "talent" means these days--doing whatever is necessary to keep your face in the Twittersphere. (For an even darker explanation, check out this article ("MTV VMAs 2013: It Was About Miley Cyrus Taking the Fall")--but read it critically. I don't actually buy into the specifics of what the author says in this or other works, but I do think the general trend is true.)

I know I'm not saying anything new, and I know there is a lot behind this issue that I haven't addressed. I just want to do a small part to further the counter-cultural message that we, the consumers, don't have to buy this crap. Set Miley free.

Obsession With Nothing

A couple days ago my sister forwarded me a link to this video:



Good Hair Day with Jennifer Aniston.
(www.livingproof.com/goodhairday)

Apparently there is a project in the works to collect women's stories about how they see themselves. This project is sponsored by a company that sells styling products and is endorsed by a celebrity whose hairstyles over the years have inspired millions of ordinary women all over the country to rush to their local salon and demand a look that matches hers.

The company purports to be all about boosting confidence and finding creative solutions to hair problems. And, as it turns out, the project is actually a contest. You get to submit your story about your own hair obsession and perhaps win a day with Jennifer Aniston...and get a haircut by her stylist.

Encouraged by my sister, I entered the contest. Yes, I did. I sent in this picture:


and I wrote this about my hair obsession:

My hair obsession began when I lost my hair five years ago to alopecia universalis. I never had great hair before, and I didn't have the tools or the confidence to do much with it. Once I lost it all, I realized how much hair had to do with my sense of femininity. I think we are obsessed with our hair not because we are women, but because we have been told that hair is a sign of vitality, sexual freedom, and popularity. We are obsessed with hair because it's one of the most salient features of our body. It is our crown. It is a sign of health and having the means to take care of yourself and pamper yourself. I try to deny that I care about not having hair, but I buy long scarves and try to drape them over my shoulder like hair. I haven't been comfortable in wigs, because I truly aim for integrity and loathe the feeling of being "fake". So my obsession is about how others view me due to my lack of hair. I have accepted my loss, yet I long to have what I think men desire.

I encourage you to enter this contest. Not just to meet Ms. Aniston, but to provide a multitude of perspectives on what beauty means to women all across the spectrum. I always think these contests end up misrepresenting women, because usually the ones who enter are women who want to meet a celebrity and get 15 minutes of fame. I could be wrong. But if a more eclectic smattering of women share their stories, perhaps we really can start to poke holes in the cultural narratives about beauty and the way women see themselves and desire to be seen. A cursory look at the other entries does show a great deal of diversity, but it doesn't hurt to add a little more. Or a lot more.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty: Day 3

Today's beautiful moment came as a revelation. I went to Zumba today, and I was feeling a bit uncoordinated. There were a lot of new moves and the instructor is an impossibly good dancer. We all pale in comparison. One woman in particular was making me chuckle. Her arms were flailing so spasmodically; I admit that I looked at her whenever I needed to feel better about my own attempt to recreate my instructor's moves (who, by the way, looks like Jennifer Lopez).

Speaking of J-Lo, when I got home I wanted to find a song by her that we danced to in class. I found the video on YouTube and was soon sinking lower in my chair as I watched her looking absolutely perfect, wishing I could just be her for one day. I can't believe I'm admitting this: after all this time writing about how to redefine beauty, I still want to look like Jennifer Lopez.

But as I watched the video, the absurdity of the life it portrays hit me. I could just see the hours she must have spent in hair, makeup and wardrobe. I laughed at the depiction of rich young rappers sitting by a pool with half-naked women lounging around all over the place.

And here's where the revelation occurred: I realized I would rather be in a room full of housewives and moms, flailing their arms and laughing at how they couldn't keep up with the mambo steps, then having to do twenty takes of the same hip roll until it looked sexy enough. I would rather be comfortable in my lounge pants than have to parade around in skinny jeans because I was expected to. Sexiness all of a sudden feels like a lot of work, and I have decided I really like the freedom to look how I look!

It was a beautiful revelation.

Have you had any revelations today?