Even a Barn Looks Better Painted

We just had our last Third Thursday Book Club here at The Read Leaf. One of the many "lasts" we'll have over the next 6 or 8 weeks. We discussed Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See, a compelling novel about a friendship between two girls over the course of their lives in 19th century China.

The author delved into the culture of women during that period--their relationships with each other, with family members, with men; the roles they were traditionally expected to play; and how they would find ways to avoid being completely oppressed, like developing a secret written language called nu shu to communicate with one another. (By the way, have your eyes started to glaze over reading this--yawn--book review?)

The ancient tradition of footbinding was, of course, a major element in the book. As I read the detailed narrative on what the girls went through to reshape their feet into "golden lilies," I was increasingly astounded at the lengths that people will go to in the name of beauty, of tradition, of social status. What put me clear over the edge was that mothers were willing to inflict years of excrutiating pain on their daughters for something totally superficial.

Why are we--especially women--so obsessed with appearance that we are literally willing to die to achieve a certain look, however arbitrary?

Now people who know me can attest to the fact that I would benefit from paying a bit more attention to my appearance. My wardrobe pretty much consists of jeans and t-shirts, on a good day a skirt and a blouse. I really should try harder to find clothes that look better on me. And I really do need to lose weight (amazingly I haven't blogged about that yet, but just you wait!).

I also don't wear makeup. And you know what? I will probably never wear makeup. I don't have a problem with other people wearing makeup, but for me it's just a big, expensive pain. Even as an impressionable teenager, when I read in an article about preparing for womanhood that we should wear makeup "because even a barn looks better painted," I instinctively knew that it was a load of crap.

So while I do want to put my best foot forward (and mine is a size 9, thank you), I can't even begin to tell you how glad I am that I haven't tortured myself all these years with impossible standards of "beauty."