Gwen's Petty, Judgmental, Evil Thoughts

Gwen's blog

Current Events

May 3, Houston: The big one -- the Inprint reading -- occurs at the Alley Theatre on Monday, May 3. Do not miss it or you'll be sorry. I'm not kidding -- I'm going to say the craziest, most intellectual yet hilarious stuff I can think of, and I'll be sharing the stage with the ultra sexy Oscar Casares, too.

June 24, Houston: I'm one of the peeps scheduled to read at Poison Pen, at Houston's famous Poison Girl bar. Besides me, everyone there will be ultra, *super* sexy. Come see me and drink!

June 26, Washington, DC: I'll be reading at the American Library Association conference. Come on down.

My other blog: Go read my the Houston Chronicle parenting blog (or my ChronMomBlog, as I like to call it) and make sure my kids won't resent me more than other kids resent their own parents.

Buy my new novel, Lone Star Legend. Already did? Well, buy a few more for your friends, then. :)

Friday, April 22, 2005

Thoughts on Prettiness

Seeing a pretty person is like finding a pretty shell on the beach.

Some people think that all shells are pretty. Some people don't. There are certain shells that a majority of people agree are pretty, and those types of shells get sold at gift shops. You might find a shell that you think is pretty, even if no one who runs a gift shop agreed with you. Some people are compelled to take pretty shells home and either display them on shelves, make them into jewelry, or just forget about them and let them fall under the car seat. Some people enjoy the pretty shells but leave them on the beach. Some people don't notice shells at all.

The thing is, shells don't have psyches that react to people's opinions of their prettiness. (Or maybe they do. I have no way of knowing for certain, do I?)

Logically, I know that people have no control over the faces they're born with. Therefore, logically, it makes no sense to praise or castigate people for the way their faces look. And yet, I like to look at pretty shells. Sometimes, I'm compelled to take them home.

I used to think that everyone treated pretty people better than they treated everyone else. Then, over time, I came to believe that pretty women only got treated well when they made themselves accessible - when they showed a certain amount of modesty and grateful appreciation for the attention they were shown.

Now I think that people react to prettiness in countless ways, and pretty people react to those reactions in countless ways, too. Prettiness is a power, but not always useful to its bearer, I think.

I used to think that I was a good person because I tried really hard never to hate on people for not being born pretty. Now I wonder if that's enough.

I like it when people tell me they think I'm pretty - sometimes. I hate it when strangers indicate that I'm pretty enough for them to want to sleep with me. Between those two points, there's a big gray area. Is it okay for women to compliment me, but not men? Are offensive personal remarks unoffensive if the intent seems benign? Do I let people get away with saying more to me if I think they're pretty? It almost doesn't matter how I feel about it. I can ask people not to speak to me in a certain way, but I can't control their reactions to the way I look, spoken or not.

There's a woman in my office building complex who I find very, very pretty. It's not even her face as much as the way she arranges every physical thing on her person. Her makeup is invisibly flawless. Her hair manages to look runway fabulous but still professional. Her clothes - her clothes are absolutely sublime. Every time I've ever seen her, her outfit has been the most artful blend of fashion and good taste I can imagine.

For all I know, she's the biggest bitch in the world. She could kill and eat babies for breakfast. She could hate the world.

But I like to look at her. This morning, I felt a really strong desire to interrupt her fierce parking garage stomp, look her in the eyes, and tell her, "Did you know that you are the best dressed person in this whole building? Did you? If you don't know that, you should."

Why? What is my motivation for wanting to tell her - is my approbation some kind of prize that she should be grateful to receive? Am I any better than a man catcalling her on the street?

I wish I could enjoy looking at people like I look at flowers or shells on the beach - silently. For the most part, I do.

If ugly words could hurt flowers' feelings and make them stop blooming, would I say nice words in the hopes of getting them to bloom again? Selfishly, I would. If flowers could hear me, would they need me to point out their power?

8:49 AM #

Comments:

totally

# posted by

furpajamas : 10:09 AM

This is a good, thought-provoking post. The whole attractiveness thing is a complicated mess, isn't it? I want to be pretty enough to attract my significant other, but I don't want him to like me because I'm pretty. Or I do, but just the right amount. Unfortunately, I'm full of double standards on this one.

# posted by

Marigoldie : 11:20 AM

I'd talk to the the "ugly" flowers too.

Totally unrelated, but how come it says on the Cuerpo website that Villard published To the Last Man?

# posted by

La Brown Girl : 1:36 PM

The whole "prettiness" thing is such a struggle with women...but let's fact it, pretty people get their foot in the door first. I mean who gives a shit if a girl is smart? only if they think she's pretty first...who cares if a girl has a good personality? Only if they think the girl is pretty first.....

# posted by

MissCathee : 2:24 PM

I want to be pretty, but I hate myself for caring, because I realize how ridiculously unimportant it is. But I can't stop my self-worth from being tied up in how attractive I am.

But it's a mystery I can't figure out. I have no ability to discern whether or not I'm attractive or completely ugly. I like it when people say I look like someone else (a celebrity, or someone they know, or whatever) because then I can make a judgement about whether or not I think they're pretty and then discern from that if I'm pretty. How stupid is that?

Even worse, I've somehow decided if the people who love me think I'm pretty, it's like they don't count. So my husband thinks I'm pretty, but I'm like, yeah, he would, so it's meaningless. So I want strangers to find me pretty, but, like you Gwen, I don't want them to leer at me or hit on me. I actually don't want them to tell me that I'm pretty, either. I just want them to think it secretly, and then I want to know it secretly.

Gah.

# posted by

kate : 11:09 AM

A hard topic for me too. My mother (aunts, sister,cousins, grandmothers, etc) were all tall, beautiful, thin women. From the age of 11, I was fat: the only fat girl in the family. I certainly NEVER thought I was pretty back then. How can 320 lbs be pretty on any teenager?

So, I tried to hide in every way possible. I never wanted anyone to notice me. I would get some sick attention for my 50 FFF sized breasts, but that was too weird for me.

So, now I'm 31 and have been 150-160 lbs for about 5 years (I'm 5' 7"). Now I can see my resemblance to all the beautiful women in my family (although I'm still having a hard time calling myself pretty.)

I had a terrible time getting a job when I was fat, now jobs and promotions come easy. No one would sit next to me in a bus: that's never a problem now.

I thought everything would be perfect when I lost weight. I thought that I would finally get the respect I deserved from society. There are times when I am more mad at people now for the "good" treatment being pretty has bought be, than I was when people treated me like crap. I guess I felt I deserved that. But who deserves to be "pretty"? It's not like you have a choice on that one. I had to accept that people will always make quick judgments about appearances. Now I notice pretty women, when I never did before. Being fat put me out of the game, so that I didn't notice what other people looked like very much. What a strange world it is....

# posted by

Zeut : 3:57 PM

I think the same thing (people's reactions) is true for confidence. I notice when I enter elevators that confident business men or women tend to smile and start up a pleasant conversation with me (because they see I'm confident.)

Also, the same thing is true with intelligence. Intelligent people meet each other and also share an instant comeraderie, too. (In fact, this is how I became friends with you!)

Perhaps, people of a like mind or prettiness are intrigued by one another?

# posted by

Yvonne : 5:49 PM

All I can say is, WOW! So eloquently did you sumise my everyday existance. I am probably getting very jaded because of the continuous "compliment" as even last night as "Joe" says to me,"You're so amazingly beautiful.', I rolled my eyes and pulledaway from him and replied," Oh thanks for reminding me; I need to call my parents and thank them." He's puzzled for a moment and then asks, "What do you mean?'
"Well I had nothing to do with the way I look, although I thank you for being sincere. But, if you were to tell me that I was smart, or maybe funny. whatever...I would have said, 'thank you for the compliment(and you'd be getting laid tonight'-ok I didn't say that part, but I thought it!
You rock girl! Very well put!

# posted by

Rene : 11:36 AM

Rene : 11:37 AM

This post has been removed by a blog administrator.

# posted by

Rene : 11:39 AM