I know a lot about my body. I know its strengths and its graces, its quirks and defining traits. I know that I have strong legs and an elegant collarbone, pert breasts and dainty wrists, luxurious hair and an angular little nose. I know that I’ve got a lot going for me.
I also know that there are loads of things that I shall never be, and that many of them are considered beautiful, attractive, desirable, enviable even. Tall, flat-bellied, blemish-free, in possession of slender and toned arms. I’ll never be voluptuous like Halle Berry or delicate like January Jones. I’ll never be gamine like Michelle Williams or Amazonian like Charlize Theron.
We are encouraged to compare ourselves to celebrities, to strive for their appearance-related gold standard. We’re told to make ourselves resemble famous beauties as often as possible despite the fact that the average famous beauty has multiple employees tending her physique, complexion, and tresses. Staffers dedicated to making her look constantly amazing. I don’t know about you, but the number of employees on my payroll who spend their time making sure I’m tan, toned, and flawless is exactly zero. I mean, the cats do what they can, but they’ve had to take some pay cuts recently. ANYHOO, I was gazing at Sofia Vergara’s amazing figure the other day and two ideas finally slid into place.
- I’ll never look like that. And there are people in this world who would be more than happy with what I’ve got, physically speaking.
- I’ll never look like that. And acknowledging that fact is actually quite freeing.
I enjoy playing with my wardrobe, hair, and makeup to subtly alter my appearance. And I dress to elongate my legs and downplay my tum and rely on other subtle tricks for altering my perceived silhouette. But there’s a freedom in letting go of the idea that I could ever truly and naturally look like those revered beauties, that I could somehow force my physical self into their genetically different molds. And there’s a humility that comes with remembering that all of the perceived or assigned “flaws” that my own body has are utterly inconsequential in big picture context.
I’ll never look like a celebrity. Sofia Vergara’s body double I shall never be. Sounds elementary, I know, but it was a bit of a revelation to me. A revelation and a relief.
Image via glamour.com