Before sitting down to write today, I scrolled through my reader to see what my blogger friends were up to. After seeing this post on one of my favorites, I soon realized that whatever I post today can not be better. Enjoy.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, beauty was the greatest accomplishment – the only accomplishment! – for women. Their survival was dependent on being passed from their fathers to their husbands for income, for shelter, for life. In 1974, women still needed a husband’s signature to open a credit line, so may we be conscious of the fact that these are not ancient, archaic issues, realities of far-gone, lesser times.
Being objectively beautiful, better than other women, is something that’s so deeply ingrained in our psyches, and it’s only now being rendered obsolete as we (thankfully) change the way we determine “worth.”
The need to be beautiful, the obsession, the compulsion, the overwhelming desire, is rooted in survival, laced with instinct, compounded by consumerism, and associated most with the cosmetics counter.
And so there is a tension, and a disconnect, for the great truth we are subsequently neglecting. So long as we cultivate how we appear, how consumable we are, how admired…
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