'I'm Ugly. Can I Still Have A Good Life?'
Read my latest Ask Ugly column.
The next installment of Ask Ugly, my monthly beauty advice column for the Guardian, is here!
Hi Ugly,
How do I reconcile not wanting to become a victim to beauty culture rhetoric with the fact that being beautiful tangibly improves quality of life? I’m an undergrad in university and it’s hard not to feel like I’ll never get anywhere professionally or romantically if I don’t look a certain way, given that it seems like all the other girls on campus seem to be able to fulfill all their dreams and also casually look like That.
– (Not) That Girl
Too late, Not That Girl. You’re already a victim of beauty culture rhetoric and one word gave it away: casually. A very small percentage of people look like That without effort. For most, That demands a significant investment of time, money, energy and brain space.
First of all, let’s acknowledge the labor involved in simply looking Blah. I’m talking about beauty work so integrated into the performance of femininity that it seems invisible or is incorrectly labeled “hygiene” – the baseline for those who want to avoid covert judgment and overt mocking. Removing body hair. Removing or lightening facial hair. Smoothing, straightening or curling the hair on your head. Grooming your eyebrows. Using whitening toothpaste or Crest White Strips or getting your teeth bleached at the dentist. Dieting and exercising to maintain a certain weight or shape, or dressing in a way that emphasizes or disguises a certain weight or shape.
The writer Nora Ephron called this “maintenance” in her book I Feel Bad About My Neck, and claimed eight hours of it a week kept her “from looking exactly like” a “homeless woman”. (Oof.)
Then, there’s the effort of looking Presentable. Professional. Many women, particularly in the workplace, are expected to show up with clear or concealed skin, a layer of no-makeup makeup and manicured nails.
Now we can get to the additional slog of becoming one of The Beautiful Ones, which has been cataloged to perfection by millions of #GetReadyWithMe and “That Girl” videos. A typical routine might involve a multi-step, anti-ageing skincare regimen (morning and night); a small arsenal of hair care products and styling tools; and a larger collection of color cosmetics for covering, highlighting, contouring, lining and glossing. Add facial massage (gua sha for the traditionalist, or NuFace for the tech enthusiast) and a collagen supplement (because, of course, beauty begins on the inside) for good measure. And that’s just daily!
On a weekly basis, That Girl may reach for a series of non-invasive, at-home devices: LED light masks, high-frequency acne wands, facial steamers, pore extractors and microneedling tools. There are quarterly appointments for facials, hair dye or highlights, keratin treatments. Botox and filler are increasingly common. And don’t forget about plastic surgery: two of the most gorgeous girls in my college cohort got summer-after-high-school nose jobs.
Making That seem “casual” also requires labor. See the recent rush of “high-maintenance to be low-maintenance” routines on TikTok, which celebrate the extreme effort that goes into appearing effortless: semi-permanent eyebrow and lip color tattoos, eyelash lifts and tints, full-coverage overnight face masks. The name – inane! oxymoronic! – suggests our visually dominant culture did indeed usher in the era of “post-literacy” that philosopher Walter J Ong predicted in 1982.
Now, for argument’s sake, let’s forget about the correlation between harsh skincare ingredients and contact dermatitis. Ditto the fact that fillers can migrate and inflate, that Botox can cause muscle atrophy. Never mind the possible link between hair relaxers and cancer, or the risk of complications – some deadly – that comes with cosmetic surgery. Ignore the likelihood that today’s That will be tomorrow’s “that?” as the minimum standard of beauty rises. (Think of it as aesthetic inflation.)
Instead, let’s assume beauty work works. You did it! You’re beautiful! Is it worth it?
The rest of my answer includes:
a cost-benefit analysis: are the privileges we gain from beauty greater than the time, money, energy and attention we sacrifice to beauty?
specifically: professionally and romantically
how young girls are conditioned to value their looks above their health, education, and friendships
why pretty privilege doesn’t save women from misogyny (hint: it is misogyny)
a deep dive into your answers from the anonymous Good Looks/Good Life poll (60% of respondents identify as average- or below-average looking, and 74% still find their lives “fulfilling”; 41% believe their appearance has positively impacted their economic opportunities, but only 27% feel good about the amount of time and brain space they’ve dedicated to beauty)
and more!
Click through to the Guardian to read the whole thing (and if you decide to share it with friends or on social media or whatever, please share it via the Guardian link).
Beautifully said. This young woman - and all of us here - are lucky to have you.
This hit so hard for me. I've been so unsatisfied with my appearance my whole life. I remember crying at 11 because I had cellulite and the prettiest girl at camp had perfect tanned everything and smooth strong legs and arms.
I'll never know if it was natural. But that is my point. I shouldn't have been crying the summer before 6th grade because I was certain I was ugly and would never be whoever I thought I was at 10.
I was teased in 6th grade for still having body hair (by my peers). I went home and borrowed mum's razor and tried to rid myself of the offending hair. I didn't know what I was doing. I went to deep and had this scar for years. The mark has faded but the memory remains.
I'm 40 now. I battle between my ability to say yes to things I want and severe restriction. I have an eating disorder. My appearance still makes me so I satisfied I will cry.
I'll never get plastic surgery. I'm so desperate to be perfect that I will be hooked to the needle and the knife. I'll never be "enough". Pretty enough. Smart enough for any partner/boss/friend. It's hard to live with, knowing you won't be perfect because no one is.
But I still put that unattainable standards to myself.