No sooner is it quoted that “beauty is only skin deep” than it is just as quickly forgotten. Of contemporary cultural cliches this particular one has got to be one of the more poignant by the very virtue of its ubiquity, because in the hierarchy of statements grounded in reality, it ranks immediately below “Santa Claus is coming to town”. Why? Because much as it is oft repeated, it is never really reflected on, and what’s more it is immediately forgotten.
By virtue of observation alone it is abundantly clear that we fondly believe that of all the adjectives to describe us, superficial is not one of them. We fondly believe that our judgements are based solely on sound reasoning and objectivity. We refuse to entertain for one second that we do not live by these words that so readily pour from our lips.
A very effective mirror of society is the media. Long before economists got it down on paper the dynamics of supply and demand had long been apparent to Adam and his immediate descendants. If people want to watch dogs biting man newspapers, magazines, television, Hollywood, Bollywood and Nollywood will oblige. If they do not the media fraternity will without a doubt withdraw that particular fare.
The unfortunate truth is that we are a reflection of what we watch and what we read.
A fairly accurate depiction of contemporary society and its beliefs can be very effectively gauged by an even cursory analysis of the media, notably cinema and the television.
The daily fare generally consists of numerous casts of impossibly good looking stars and starlettes going through day to day life dealing with complex relationships and life’s triumphs and tribulations. These triumphs and tribulations generally consist of a suitor wooing the suited despite the hurdles thrown the suitors way by virtue of evil twin brothers, jealous rivals, etc.
Never mind that actual tribulations like hunger, poverty, crime, ware, and human suffering only get passing references in the meat and potatoes of the struggles of Siobhan and Maximillian as they rush headlong towards their inevitable lavish church wedding where brides liberally wear white, blissfully aware of the origin of that particular tradition.
Variations of the theme are the rush of Maximillian to get into Siobhan’s pants, the rush of Maximillian to save Siobhan from his mortal enemy, the rush of Maximillian to save Siobhan and the world from untimely doom, the rush of Siobhan to mend Maximillian’s errant ways and realize that she is the one he loves and not the even more impossibly good looking Juliet, and so on
Recent entrants into the scene are the proliferation of programmes masquerading as “Reality TV”, an oxymoron if there ever was one. Someone ought to have written down when the difference between reality and television was the presence of a script. We’d have appreciated the heads up.
The basis in reality of 25 grown men convincing one woman on camera that she should spend the rest of her life with him is neither here nor there. Neither is that of a budding employer recruiting a deputy on public television and having the temerity to fire some of the applicants before they have even been hired after making them sell ice cream, again on public TV. Still more vague is the reality of 25 odd people being shipped to some obscure island and eliminate each other by carrying buckets of sand/seawater from A to B.
Now don’t get me wrong. No one is saying that TV should be intellectually stimulating insights into the purpose of man and the realities of life. No one wants to watch a 3 hour program detailing the finer aspects on nuclear fission vis a vis nuclear fusion. I enjoy my 24 and my South Park and Simpsons as much as the next man, if not more.
But I digress. The continuous fare of sculpted stars and starlettes on big screen and small screen and magazine covers living impossibly perfect lives have poisoned the very ideals and aspirations of humanity more than we know.
Before Calvin Klein, Dolce & Gabana and their ilk, it was possible for any woman to be beautiful and desirable and sexy. But now that these characters have been on the scene for some time now, anyone not 5′ 6″ with the dimensions 32-24-32 need not apply for the title ‘beautiful’. Thanks to these individuals and their ilk a ludicrous ideal of a beautiful woman has been fronted and women hitherto very comfortable with themselves are now made to feel as if they are acutely wanting. And they have been driven to try and conform.
The repercussions of these are far and wide. Silicon meant for assorted gadgets is increasingly ending up in nether regions. Some people have had so many face lifts the bags under their eyes are actually their knees. Many find themselves forced to give up a perfectly good meal and their meals generally consists of little more than stains on the bottom of saucers in the pursuit of the new benchmark of beauty.
Before Hollywood you could be lovely, whether your skin was black, white, yellow or olive. Several block busters later, if your skin is dark then you need not apply. In fact, if you are black your beauty is in its novelty value. Think Alek Wek.
The African woman settling down to watch good old fashioned TV is not given a moment’s peace. First off is an advertisement by a cosmetics company tellingly called Fair And Lovely. That’s right. Fair and Lovely. They have the temerity to suggest that anyone in possession of dark skin is an unfortunate individual that requires immediate relief. Their website informs me
The dramatic advertisement actually currently showing on TV unfolds as follows:
A rather fetching lass arrives at an airline office for an interview as an air hostess. The interviewers take one look at her dark skin and dismiss her summarily. Dejected she walks out, holding out a palm with a ten shilling coin. Magically a sachet of Fair And Lovely skin lightening lotion appears on said palm. Over a couple of weeks using the lotion her skin progressively lightens. Then she appears again for the interview, oddly enough in the exact same outfit and the same hairdo. This time the pilot conducting the interview (I kid you not, a pilot was interviewing) is unable to keep his mouth closed, and the lady from the cabin crew nods her head in approval.
And now already perfectly beautiful women are smearing toxins on their skins to bleach it, ostensibly to look more beautiful. One is unsure what to think upon seeing someone looking like they are wearing a white mask and white gloves, driven to do this by constant bombardment on what the ideal woman is supposed to look like.
The fact that this is not the ideal woman, but someone somehere’s idea of an ideal woman conveniently gets lost in translation.
After being told that they are not light skinned enough, they are also told that they are too big. Years of Cindy Crawfords, Kate Mosses and Naomi Campbells have led the media to conclude that if you look like you are desperately in need of a square meal, and have been so for the past 6 months then you exude beauty and radiance. If your bust is bigger than this, or your hips are bigger than this then not only are you not beautiful, you are assymetrically fat!
So sad, so sad.
I cannot begin to articulate just how much I object to the ludicrous notion that my mother and my friends and my fellow countrywomen, fellow Africans and indeed anyone of the ebony complexion are not beautiful because their skin is not light! Complete and utter rubbish! I’m not going to say anything as knee jerkingly mindless as “black is beautiful”. Personally, I think you can be beautiful, no matter what colour you are.
Popular media has challenged the very concept of quality life. You are not living a successful, quality life if you do not work long hours, hit the club three nights a week, the gym on two and once a week one cocktail with all the right people. This breed of life goes by the name of young, upwardly mobile professional. Anything outside these myopic parameters and you “don’t have a life”. Never mind that truthfully speaking a 54 weeks spent in this fashion are pretty much marking time, and one is completely unable to answer the question “what are you doing with your life”.
So sad, so sad.
Either directly or innuendo has convinced us that the idea of a perfect life is. Cosy job. Colossal house. Trophy spouse. Annual holiday. Two children, a boy and a girl. The token pet. A nanny.
It is tempting to say that these programmes we watch and magazines we read are just mindless entertainment to get away from the realities of life. But the question arises that are we getting so far away from the realities of life that we no longer know what they are?
I am inclined to think that we are, and with the opening of every new mindless reality show, every printing of mindless polls that tell you whether you are happy or not we are retreating further and further into our jewel flaunting, TV watching, yuppie idolizing skin deep society, blissfully aware that with every episode of realtity tv it watches it is losing more and more touch of reality.
Force MDs – Tender Love