GULP: A VERY LONG AND PERSONAL POST "ON ONCE HAVING BEEN A CUTE GIRL."

Okay, after testing the waters as to how a post about my own cuteness might go over, I have decided to give my account on what it is like to be a woman who was considered “pretty” or “cute” during adolescence and young adulthood.  This is something that is hard to talk about because generally it is a topic that breeds resentment among other women and among men, as well: the beautiful woman has something other people want but can't necessarily have.  As a result, I don't think there is much written from the perspective of good-looking women about their own good looks.  Beautiful women are often considered objects of desire rather than fully human agents in their own right -- but of course that is far from the case. 

As I have mentioned before, I was brought up with a strong feminist consciousness.  So it didn’t bother me as a child that I was an awkward and shaggy-haired Caroline to my mother’s glamorous Jackie.  It was understood in my family that my mother’s beauty was her primary social currency, whereas I, being raised to discover the cure for cancer or whatever, had no need to worry about such a trivial thing as my own surface attractiveness. I expected to be a homely person and I viewed that homeliness as a sign of being smarter and deeper than your average “girly-girl.” I guess I bought into the sexist notion that a woman can be smart or she can be attractive but she can't be both.

That all changed, seemingly overnight, when I looked in the mirror one day at age twelve and suddenly realized with shock that, “Hey, I am really very pretty.”  I remember being sort of transfixed by my own reflection because I was so surprised.  It was around that age that I started to be flooded with constant compliments about the way I looked.   First, an older woman rushed up to my mother when we were in a hotel on vacation and gushed about what a beautiful girl I was.  Older men, friends of my parents, invariably complimented me.  One said that I was going to be a “heartbreaker” one day.  Another called me “dimples” and (more creepily) asked me if I had started my period yet.  (To this day, I still don’t know what that was all about.) Boys in my middle school would approach me and awkwardly confess that they “liked” me.  One boy asked me in front of the whole school if I would be his girlfriend and ran off in humiliation when I said no.  I spent the weekend crying in my bathroom because I felt terribly ashamed for somehow getting this boy to like me and then embarrassing him in front of everyone.  I wasn’t sure what I should have done differently but I felt that I was somehow responsible. The boy’s sister declared war on me and bad-mouthed me to all her friends.

I went through some awkward periods in high school (bad haircuts, bad wardrobe choices)  when the attention dried up, but for the most part I continued to get lots of validation based on my looks.  There was a shrimpy little guy in my class whom I didn’t know but who apparently had some sort of crush on me.  Some of the older cooler guys took him under their wing:  they would kind of push him forward or dare him to say something to me while they all poked each other and laughed.  I got a lot of similar attention from other guys who wanted something from me -- a date, a smile, a relationship, something.

It seems very silly and innocent now, and there are surely far worse problems in the world, but at the time, I really didn’t know how to cope with this kind of attention.  I found it sort of pleasant and sort of stressful at the same time.   I was kind of a nerdy, bookish girl who was overcoming a strong shy streak.  I didn’t necessarily want the positive attention to end but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do about it either.  I also had some experiences in which boys became hostile if I didn’t comply with whatever demands they made on my time or my attention.  Although I had a fairly natural, low maintenance look, I also became more pre-occupied with my looks at this time.  I lived in dread of gaining weight.  It seemed far worse to have people say, “Oh my god-- did you see what happened to Happy?  She’s let herself go,” than to never have been noticed in the first place. 

During my college years, I spent much of my time on my women’s campus, or living in Manhattan where my boyfriend was, and making money as a temp secretary in businesses all over the City.  Despite my experiences in high school, I found myself shocked by all the sexualized attention young women receive in New York City.  I was not in any way prepared for the daily onslaught of comments on the street or for the fact that I would get “hit on” regularly by men much older than myself.  Again, I would be less than honest if I pretended that I didn’t find any of this pleasant-- but at the same time it was a stressor.  I used to think of it as “girding” myself for whatever that happened that day when I went out on a temp job -- sometimes it was harassment (the guy who would rub his whole front across my back accidentally-on-purpose when I was trying to get something out of the supply closet), sometimes it was just creepy (the old guy who popped a piece of candy into my mouth and called me “pussycat”), and sometimes it was sweet (someone asking me out on a date).  But I constantly had to make decisions about what kind of response was warranted, or whether to respond at all.  There was a sense that as a young woman I was somehow expected to react to the attentions of whatever random men on the street might see fit to approach me.  (A particularly annoying example has been written about by other bloggers-- the men who would command me to “Smile!”)

The benefits of being considered attractive are, of course, legion.  I am well aware that people were probably more polite to me than they might have been if I had been a guy or had been considered “homely” in some way.  If I asked directions, a gruff police officer would walk me three blocks to my destination.  Sales people or officials went out of their way to accommodate me.  I could usually get a date fairly easily.  The positive responses of other people helped me to overcome my shyness.  There is no doubt in my mind that I am able to have a “happy shiny personality” because people are generally nice to me, and that people tend to be nice to me because I look appealing to them.

For the past 8 or 9 years, however, I really haven’t had a lot of compliments on how I look or other positive looks-based validation.  I think that’s due to the fact that I have been living in a more rural/small-town area, that I am married, and that I mostly move in professional circles where it is inappropriate for attorneys to tell each other they’re hot.  There is some relief in not having my appearance be such a factor in my daily life.  But I also feel flashes of sadness when I realize that I don’t look the way I did at 21.  I am no Janet Leigh or Catherine Deneuve, women with great bone structure who look good at any age.  My attractiveness was based on the fleeting virtues of a “girlish” figure, a radiant complexion, and good coloring.  I don’t feel that I am an old crone by any means, but I certainly feel that I am fairly ordinary looking at this point and that I have lost the “oomph” that people once found so attractive.  Although I may not have fully appreciated it at the time, I had some unharnessed power in being able to command instant appreciation when first meeting people.  I have never valued looking good above all else -- in fact, I define myself primarily in terms of my job and my marriage -- but I do mourn what once was.  I wonder sometimes if my kids will ever believe that I was once pretty, and I am glad that, no matter how old we get, my husband will remember me as I was at 23.  I know my mother, who depended on her beauty far more than I ever did, has been very bothered by becoming elderly-- and I wonder whether it will be tougher for me to see the effects of age on my face and my body than it would be if I had never had the experience of constant looks-based compliments and attention.   

Comments

[Annie]

having stumbled across your blog not too far after exploring a similiar issue myself, i'm really glad you wrote this post and i happened to find it. i think it's really important to talk about how ideas of beauty affect all people, and your voice is a unique and worthwhile one. i don't mean to sound cheesy, only that i took a lot from your post and think most people will too. so, yeah, thanks.

[Marjani]

This is an issue I struggle with. I was always told I should be a model, this does feel good I admit. It also left me feeling lots of pressure and I often times found myself looking in the mirror going am I pretty? Something I may not have noticed if people had not been telling me I was my whole life. It also has left this tick in the back of my had always telling me, well if all else fail, HEY! At least I can sell my looks for money! It makes me question myself as a feminist. Can you be a model and a feminist? I sure as hell am not sure and I'm not saying there is a definitive answer, but I'd love to hear what people think.

[VancouverCalling]

Thanks for posting this, you hit the nail on the head in your description of that balance between liking the attention yet being stressed how to respond to it in various situations. In general, you really don't see an honest description of what it is like to be beautiful without that description also being arrogant or conceited. I think you did a good job describing it without engendering the animosity of others. Because you don't (and apparently never have) identified yourself first and foremost by the way you look, I predict you will miss your younger body and face, but that it won't bother you too much or in any way diminish your enjoyment of your life and your sense of selfworth.

[Nicole Black]

Interesting to read your post on the heels of Opinionista's (http://opinionistas.blogspot.com/) "Plastic" post, in which she discusses her mother, plastic surgery and societal pressures to stay young. You both make similar points--especially as it relates to your mothers.

As for your post, it is interesting how the comments/looks decrease with age. I'm not sure if it's related to having kids in tow most of the time, though. I do notice more looks, etc. when I'm alone.

Also, I always wondered to what extent looks affected the practice of law as a woman. I'm not sure if it helps you or hurts you. I think it may depend on the situation.

[The Happy Feminist]

Whew-- I am so glad to see positive comments on this one.

I think Marjani's question about whether you can be a model and a feminist is a great one. My gut response is to say yes, absolutely-- but I will see if I can actually come up with a well-thought out post on this one. Not that I am an expert on modeling, but what an interesting issue!

[Matt Stoller]

I never thought about that 'smile' comment thing. That would drive me crazy.

[Richard]

"... I mostly move in professional circles where it is inappropriate for attorneys to tell each other they’re hot."

(chuckle) Hey, there's another post subject for you. SHOULD it be inappropriate?

"Although I may not have fully appreciated it at the time, I had some unharnessed power in being able to command instant appreciation when first meeting people."

You being a feminist, I'm sure you've read Camille Paglia who might have written that sentence in that way. And yet so many feminist swear off beauty. The (literally) ugly feminist sterotype exists for a good reason.

"I am glad that, no matter how old we get, my husband will remember me as I was at 23."

Hmm. If I had a wife, I'm not so sure I'd want her to be remembering my rippled, hard, youthfully bronzed 23-year-old body just as I get up from the table at Sunday brunch for seconds. Memories like that might cut both ways.

[Dr.Sue]

Thanks for your courage in posting this. Another issue, though, is the assumption in our culture that gray or thinning hair, facial lines, etc., constitute "losing your looks." I've been thinking about this recently because of the many pictures of Rosa Parks that have been circulating since her death in October. She was a beautiful young woman, but the later pictures, showing a fully mature activist, whose lined face bespoke power and character that a younger person simply couldn't have earned, are awe inspiring. Maybe we should be looking at ways to redefine "good looks."

[The Happy Feminist]

"Although I may not have fully appreciated it at the time, I had some unharnessed power in being able to command instant appreciation when first meeting people."

Richard, you caught me. I went through a Camille Paglia phase in college, and I was thinking of her when I wrote that sentence. (I actually have not read a lot of feminist authors, though.)

Upon reflection, though, I realize that it is not a great sentence. What kind of power am I referring to? Power to do what? That sentence reflects the seed of an idea, more than a fully formed thought.\

Dr. Sue, I think you're right on. I also think that despite all the naysayers, our popular culture is doing a better job than in the past of recognizing the beauty of different types of people: from the heavier to the older to the androgynous to people of different, non-white ethnicities. We've got Queen Latifah (whom I think is drop dead gorgeous), Lauren Hutton, Stella Tenant, Iman, and lots of others who defy conventional standards. The conventional is still the norm, but I see progress.

[drumgurl]

Can a woman be a model and a feminist? I was a teen model and a feminist. But I have to admit, I only modeled because I was insecure. The girls at school teased me so bad for being ultra-skinny that I was dumb enough to think the beauty industry could offer the validation I needed. I quit modeling by age 16 or 17. Well, it didn't give me what I was looking for, and I was creeped out by all the old dudes coming to fashion shows to see 14-year-old bods in bikinis.

I still think I was a feminist, though, even when I modeled. I thought, hey, why can't I be both? (Basically what you said.) But if beauty is the only thing you've got, and you constantly pick other women apart for how they look, then you're not a feminist (here I mean "you" in the general sense).

Also, I think very few feminists swear off beauty anymore. I used to wonder why some unattractive women are anti-feminists because it appears, on the surfact, that feminism would be a win-win strategy for them. But then I figured out that anti-feminism is really the only thing they have to offer men. The way they see it is, "Hey, I'm not going to get a guy by my looks. But maybe if I market myself as a servant, I can land one! Because landing a man is my #1 goal!" Of course I don't agree with that. I'm just saying I have read some anti-feminist blogs with that attitude (cough, Charlotte Allen, cough).