Beauty – A Subjective Experience…

Back in college I was an anthropology major. If you haven’t noticed yet, I always like to throw a few of my anthro observations into my blog entries. This one’s about looks, my friends. Good looks. Handsomeness, hotness, prettiness…BEAUTY.

It’s no secret that most of us are influenced by images we see. We may claim that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, but undoubtedly our concept of beauty is very dependent on the media. At least in those countries that have media saturated all over the place. And how many people have complained about skinny models (or actresses) potentially promoting eating disorders? That’s always been up for debate, right? We could start one right now. And I must admit, even I, who is usually pretty confident, can start stressing about my weight just because everyone around me is. I love Angelina Jolie’s beauty. I’m also obsessed with Keira Knightley’s facial features (how are people born that way???) Sometimes I can’t help it just like anyone else.

I find it so fascinating that “beauty” is generally agreed upon and understood. That it either makes us feel sensations of calm and happiness, or at other times, can make us unreasonable and hateful of our own bodies. Isn’t it crazy how we are able to feel like everything is in its place just so long we are surrounded by beautiful things?

A while back, I made it a conscious choice to find perfection in imperfection. Why? Because that’s where the balance of nature lies for me. As I find myself working with very good looking people in the business (film and photography), I have vowed to never neglect the ordinary, for it is just as fascinating and … beautiful.

I once heard of the notion that the predominance of white women in the media leads to a Eurocentric concept of beauty, making minority girls feel self-conscious. I have a feeling though that this is slowly changing though I don’t have any numbers to back that up. Just things I’ve heard or read. This claim does remind me of a girl I once met.

I had just arrived in the US and went to my very first American high school dance: The Sadies Hawkins. Pretty exciting. There I was, in the middle of the courtyard, dancing to Kc & Jojo with my girlfriends. We were dancing in a circle. Maybe four or five of us. Every now and then others would come say hello. A girl, perhaps someone’s friend, joined us. I believe she was of Mexican descent. She began to dance with us, shy and unsure. And overweight.

I had the privilege to be friends with the most fun, smart, and beautiful group of people (read…it’s in the eye of the beholder). Five beautiful thin Asian girls, swaying seductively to R&B music. It was fun. I had a blast. Then I looked over to the Mexican girl. I saw her staring at my friend shaking her hips. And there they came. Tears. I saw her discretely wiping them off, and as if trying to encourage herself, she kept dancing with us.

I don’t know who she was. I had never met her, and I never saw her again after that night. Today’s boudoir entry is dedicated to her and every middle and high school girl, who stares with envy and sadness at the beauty ideal “dancing” in front of them. You just don’t know how unique you and extraordinary you are.

I know that my line of work may or may not contribute in generating beauty standards, but I want to invite you to celebrate your own body and soul on your own terms. After all, Angelina Jolie is not the standard. She is one of many unique individuals in this world.

And with that, I’d like you to meet Miss L’Aisha. She celebrated by doing a boudoir session with me a few weeks ago. She’s pretty beautiful, don’t you think?

Thanks for reading!