(no subject)

Jun 15, 2007 06:38

I went in for a pedicure and french manicure on Sunday. It was good times, generally speaking, and I was pleased with the manicure. It lasted until this morning, and I've caught myself admiring my nails several times in the last few days. There's something alluring about the artificial perfection of it. There are other things that I admire this way- my face when I've used foundation and powder, my legs when they're freshly shaven, the wig that I wore for Halloween. I think it's something to do with the unfamiliarity, the artificality of one's own body thus modified. I remember a friend once waxing (hah!) rapsodic about having a bikini wax done for the first time- it hurt like hell and there was even a little blood, she said, but it was strangely addictive and she found herself wanting to do it again.
All beauty rituals are aimed at making the body a little more unnatural, a little more smooth and streamlined. The female (and, to a certain extent, the male) beauty standards are, at their root, fictitious bodies, inorganic bodies, drawn or rendered bodies rather than born bodies. It's been said many times that beauty is aspirational, that we want our outer appearance to conform to a mental ideal rather than to genes, environment or necessity, and our culture amplifies and echoes this desire. I can understand how that would lead into the further extremes of body modification, or tight-lacing, although I certainly don't subscribe to those practices.
There's no point to this. It's just a thought I had. I won't be spending $20 a week on a french manicure from now on, though. I need my nails for more important things, and when there's polish on it's like a sign reading 'For Display Purposes Only'.

personal, feminism

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