Suffer for Beauty

A community museum somewhere in the outskirts of the local area

recently mounted an exhibition called "Suffer for Beauty."

I didn't go see it
because it just didn't fit into my schedule, 
but it got me thinking about the ways
that I have suffered 
in the quest forbeauty
on the outside,
the place that seems to be of utmost importance
in the American scheme of values.
Maybe where you live, too.

There are the obvious things, of course,

like cramming my feet into high heels
and teetering around town
with feet that are screaming 
and back that's trying to adjust its alignment
and ankles threatening to twist
just to stop the madness.

I've also had abdominoplasty,
a "tummy tuck",
to pull my muscles back into alignment
and cut out excessive skin and stretch
what's left back together
after repeated C-sections left my abdominal muscles a little lax.
Hurt like hell (more than the C-sections)
and the compression garments I had to wear
for about three weeks afterwards weren't exactly glam,
but I have to admit, 
the post-recovery results made me feel less self-conscious
about the little pouchy place
that no amount of dieting or "core work" had eradicated.

I haven't had botox injections,
but I have had a cool laser treatment that's supposed to
stimulate collagen production
and let me tell you,
it's not as "cool" as advertised
(though I thought my skin looked great afterward).


Who among us hasn't poked the mascara wand
into her eye by accident?
Or am I just incredibly clumsy?




I never laced myself into a bustier or corset so tight

 I had a 19 inch waist like Scarlett O'Hara,

but I have laid on the bed to zip my denim jeans

after they shrink in the dryer

and I wouldn't necessarily count that as suffering

but I have accidentally zipped my skin

in the process

and that definitely counts.

I've bought and used the little machine
from Suzanne Somers that she swears by
to keep her face firm.
The electrical current's not too strong,
so I'm not sure it counts as suffering
except that I let one of my friends try it
and she doesn't have my pain tolerance
and there were a lot of "ow"s 
before she managed to shut it off.


I haven't had my face lifted or my eyes done,
but if I can afford it and my vision is compromised
by the sagging or I'm totally disgusted
by living with jowls, I wouldn't rule it out. 

 Right now I am pretty satisfied with how I look.

 

No, that's a lie.

 

Unless I'm a size six or smaller

and so thin my boobs barely fill out a B cup,

so thin that everything I try on looks fabulous,

I'll always be dissatified with my weight.

And it's been a long time

since I was a 6. 

But I've got great skin

and my eyes glisten with intelligence

and excitement for life,

so I guess that's more important in the long run

than the size of my panties.

 




What things have you done
or are willing to do
that amount to
suffering for beauty?