Image Credit: Natalya Lobanova
"Beauty: slightly mutilating the natural state of your body in order to be deemed socially acceptable." After a long and aimless scroll down my Tumblr dashboard of designer dreams and cheekbones of steel, I came across this quote. At first, I didn't think a lot of it and put it down as another in-depth outlook on the alternative view of life that most Tumblrians are avid to put forward, but then it got me thinking about the methods we take to, as the saying goes, be "socially acceptable" where our looks are concerned.
I got talking to a few of my friends about the crazy things we've done over the years to fit in with what we think we ought to look like. In my case, discovering the joys of rock culture at the tender age of fourteen and hiding in the bathroom whilst I cut choppy layers into my long, blonde hair to apparently reach the trend of the mullet, styled by a rabid animal. Things have moved on since the Year of the Punk for me, and along with this process has come a few more confusing and well, bizarre habits.
A few of my friends (who I will spare the mortification of naming) have revealed an ardent habit for shaving their fingers and toes, whilst others settle for a hair mask of mayonnaise. I remember back in school, a girl in my class boasted of her toothpaste face masks, and apparently not much has changed since I know plenty of us who sleep with a Sudocrem smeared face. It all seems normal to us until we take a step back and wonder why we really put all of the effort into these barmy DIY efforts to transform overnight into a glowing goddess worthy of envy from the likes of the Victoria's Secret Angels. In-flight routines; baking in the sun and damaging our skin cells in the name of beauty and a "healthy" glow; coating our lashes in Vaseline in the hopes of waking up with eyelashes three miles long.
All of the beauty golden rules we abide by over the years have settled down into a select few life-savers which we know works for us probably a lot better than Colgate skin to warn off the acne (and possibly all other forms of life). Since I've put behind me the days of deciding that I'm a professional hair stylist (my experience is limited to a traumatic Barbie doll experience), I have also given up along the way on the one of the holy grail of beauty techniques: I will never be able to drink eight glasses of water a day to keep my skin glowing in exchange for 65 trips to the loo per hour. On top of that, Lauren Conrad's Beauty book informs me that I should never, ever under any circumstances pop a zit, but trust me, if I was coming face-to-face with Harry Styles, there is no chance I would be doing so with a pulsating spot in the centre of my face. And ten hours sleep? Sometimes that isn't even an option.
Whilst it is important that we keep our health in check and look after ourselves, why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to be perfect and improve the way we look? Rather than preaching the new ways to transform into Miranda Kerr, I think it's about time the media tells us how much we should learn to love ourselves and embrace what is already perfect about us: individuality. Don't worry if you forgot to pluck your eyebrows for one day; don't stress about forgetting to apply your eyeliner. Amongst every girl's unconditional love for lipstick, don't forget to find unconditional love for the most important thing first: yourself.
Love From Storm x
