The Naked Face Project
Last season at Girls on the Run, I sat cross-legged in front of 15 little girls and held up an advertisement for women’s shaving cream. The ad showed the model’s disembodied legs up in the air, smooth and shiny. “What do you think this ad is trying to say?” I asked. The girls carefully studied the image, and then one piped up, “That we should buy that shaving cream because pretty girls shave their legs.”
“That’s definitely the goal of the advertisement,” I replied. “Do you all think that women have to shave this legs?” Instantly, all of the girls squealed back, “YES,” clearly pleased that they had gotten the question ‘right’ on the first try. “Wait, wait, wait!” I said. “Women don’t have to shave their legs!” Fifteen pairs of eyeballs fixed on me like I was an idiot. “Yes, they do,” one girl said, pointing at my crossed legs. “You shave.”
“But I don’t have to,” I said slowly. “I shave because I want to. When you’re older, shaving is fun.” The girls all nodded, like what I had said was perfectly acceptable, but to be honest, I thought my response sounded completely fake. I started to shave when I was 11 because I wanted to be a ‘pretty girl’ and seem older and more attractive. Shaving isn’t fun – it’s a chore. Sometimes, I cut myself and bleed all over the bathtub. And I don’t continue to shave because I want to – I do it because it’s expected of me as a woman. That moment with the girls rolled around in my brain for weeks. Something about the exchange really nagged at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly. After all, I had given the girls the politically correct answer – they don’t need to shave now, and if they don’t want to shave later, they don’t have to. But I knew that all fifteen girls would inevitably grow up and shave their legs. Because in our society, that is what women do.
About a month ago, I woke up after a horrible night’s sleep, stumbled into the shower, got out and dried off, and looked at my face in the mirror. And than I actually said out loud to my reflection: “Thank God for makeup.” I meant it, too. There’s no way I would’ve wanted to go out in public with my naked face that day. I had dark circles and a pimple on my chin. Without makeup on, I looked dead. But my remark caught my attention – Thank God for makeup? Like my naked face was really so horrible?
Like the vast majority of women, I wake up every day and engage in Beauty Habits designed to improve my outside appearance – I wear makeup nearly everywhere; I get my hair professionally cut and dyed hair (about $160 every three months!); I shave my armpits, bikini line, and legs; I get my eyebrows waxed (for $40 a month!); I do my nails; I wear uncomfortable clothing. In short, I spend a lot of time, energy, and money on ‘improving’ my looks (I’ll write more about this in the future, but I think a lot of this has to do with where I was raised).
Suddenly, I remembered the shaving conversation at Girls on the Run and realized why it – and the makeup moment – had made me feel so uneasy. It all felt really… inauthentic. After all, my work with Operation Beautiful and my experiences with Girls on the Run is about being comfortable with yourself, embracing your inner beauty, and focusing on what really matters – who you are, not what you look like. Heck, I’ve written two books about this very topic, including one geared towards children (which is now available for pre-order!). I believe this message with every fiber in my body, but in my life, I don’t fully walk the walk. I don’t know if there is something inherently wrong or contradictory with my Beauty Habits, but I feel so dependent on the intention behind them, like if I don’t wear makeup or shave, I’m not a ‘real’ woman. It has gotten to the point that I am not sure why I do it at all – or who I am doing it for. And trust me, I don’t wear makeup, shave, pluck, and wax because it’s ‘fun.’
I recently had coffee with Molly Barker, the founder of Girls on the Run (you can read her Wikipedia page here), and I asked her, “What do you say when a little girl asks you why you wear makeup?” She replied, “I say because it’s fun.” I asked her if that was the truth, and she paused uncomfortably and admitted, “No, it’s because I feel like I have to wear makeup.” I felt so much relief that another woman who works in the same ‘field’ as I do experiences this strange contradiction, too. As we opened up to one another about this complex issue, Molly and I found the difference between what we preach and how we choose to act on a day-to-day basis troubling… so we decided to do something about it. And thus… The Naked Face Project was born.
No comments:
Post a Comment