Freaks
I am part of the proverbial choir Andrea Kapsaski is preaching to in her recent article, Living in Los Angeles, I am surrounded by and bombarded with this region's collective consensus of what beauty is and it saddens me. Besides the stereotypes of peroxide blondes with big boobs, no butts, pouty lips and bones protruding from skin, there is the insidious overtone that if a woman doesn't have a similar look to a mass produced Barbie doll, a twisted plastic surgeon's version of Huxley's Gamma-Delta-Epsilon, she has no worth. Individuality, unique imperfections, character lines... these are not embraced by American culture. If only there would come a day when women are taken for who they are and not how they look, when skin color is no longer a divider, when people who don't fit societies "normal" aesthetic are made to feel part of the herd and not outside of it, and intelligent compassionate thought is cherished and praised over shallow physicality. Ah, a beautiful freak can dream!
Lia Beachy
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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on February 5, 2008 6:32 PM.
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