#ig: srushti.kshirsagar

[mardigrasqueen-blog]

Vanity

Realising I am objectively beautiful has had a profound impact on my confidence and how I take care of myself. It has also greatly impacted how I view the world, so much so that my perception of everything has become consumed by it.

France, Spring 2017

In the Spring of 2017, my mother and I took a trip to France. It was an amazing trip, I couldn’t believe how beautiful the country was. We took many pictures but there was one that changed so many of my assumptions about myself. We were in Biarritz, and I had worn a tight little dress, forgetting how cold it really was outside. My mother and I toured the city and went shopping, and then we walked around the water. There was a stone pier which we walked along and my mother told me to pose for a picture. I ironically hopped on the ledge and did my impression of a Vogue model. On her iPhone 8, she accidentally took the most marvellous picture of me. I was shocked and in love. My hair flowing, and my legs looked so long and toned. I looked like a Burberry model. It’s remarkable how my perception switched so dramatically because of one frame. 

Confidence and Self Respect

I believe middle school is the time when most girls become aware of the social politics of cliques and social Darwinism. There were the cool girls who crowded together and wore Abercrombie and Fitch, which at the time I thought was exclusively for girls much older than me like my sister. I was a weird preteen and I was painfully aware at the time. My mom refused to let me pluck my bushy eyebrows and she refused to let me wear makeup. She would say “I don’t care what other moms let their kids do, you’re my daughter and I’m telling you no. Wait until you’re older” I used to believe that I was at best average. Average by its nature is hardly a sin, yet the standards of beauty in my mind made it so being average meant effort seemed pointless. I was inactive and paid little attention to the choices I made for my body. So after that windy and cloudy day in France, I thought perhaps if I just tried; if I truly attempted to be the version of beauty I believed in, I could perhaps be the version of myself that I was satisfied with. I once asked my father what he thought a beautiful woman looked like. He said it was health and confidence that made a woman beautiful. My father was clearly being honest, as my mother is the most gorgeous woman. She is radiant, charming, and strong. So like my mother, I decided that my body was the first to improve. I began to portion food and exercise regularly. I meticulously cared for the seemingly trivial aspects of my body like my skin, hair, and nails. And with that, I found myself realising the inherent natural beauty I was so lucky to be born with. I corrected my posture, dressed according to my body type, and started drinking more water. I felt radiant and confident. I felt as if I had finally decided to use my entire potential. And with that, I truly believe that I deserve the best, and to accept nothing else in all aspects of my life.

Boys

Now boys are a whole other issue. In middle school seemingly everyone, “even the ugly girls,” had a significant other. My friends would tell me about their cute dates and drama. And I wondered when I would have the same trivial problems. I remember when I was 16 years old, I sat in the kitchen watching my mother cook dinner. I sighed and asked, “Mom, why don’t boys talk to me?” She laughed and said to me “Well obviously because they’re intimidated by how beautiful you are. Also, do you really want a high school boy?” I always tried to be likeable, but I thought maybe I wasn’t pretty in the way my friends were. I just assumed I was on the tail end of average, whereas most other girls who had boyfriends were on the upper end of average. There was no one, in particular, I wanted in high school, but don’t we all crave attention? My dad overhearing our conversation walked in the kitchen with the groceries and said: “You know, maybe if you were just nicer to the boys they wouldn’t be so scared of you.” I rolled my eyes and my mom laughed and playfully hit him with her wooden spoon. If it was my personality, then the issue arises whether or not I should change. I’d always been nice to people but I don’t subscribe to flattery. But then again, that one girl who’s a massive bitch has a boyfriend too, so what gives? At the time, I settled with the thought that it must be that I’m just not as attractive as I try to be. And though I didn’t dress up specifically to attract anyone, I often wondered what I was lacking. What I remember most vividly is the desire to be seen and appreciated for beauty. Being seen as beautiful is one of those things you feel is granted to you at birth, by luck or blessing. And so no one wants to feel unlucky or cursed. Someone else seeing your beauty is a test of objective beauty; proving whether or not your beauty is one that truly exists outside of your mind. Though self-compassion and self-assurance are integral to your own stability, the inherent social validation we feel from others is important. Especially the validation we feel from the sexual and romantic relationships we form. After realising and actively pursuing beauty, I have noticed the changing dynamics. There was one boy who was nice to me in high school. He was 4 years older than me, and I respected him. He kept in touch with me and after 3 years of seemingly friendly banter, he asked me to sleep with him. I was surprised and immediately felt incredibly stupid. He said “How did you not see this coming? You can’t seriously be that naive.” Though I was flattered, I discovered the new and frequently occurring breed of boys who don’t actually want to be my friend. The issue has arisen that although I’ve always wanted to be seen as beautiful and sexy, there will be some people who only see that and want that. Which is not inherently harmful, but rather an extra precaution I must take when considering the relationships I involve myself in. Especially since I know I have so much more to offer. It’s a seemingly trivial problem, but more significantly, it’s a new problem I’ve had to confront against my adolescent preconceptions of romance.

Amor Fati

Fredrich Nietzche believed that suffering is necessary and just as beautiful as joy and success in our journey through life. I adopted this attitude through the rose-tinted lenses of beauty. There are nights when I feel pain, fear, and loneliness; I look into the mirror and think of how beautiful I am when I cry. My big almond eyes are glass, and my flawless skin is flushed red. I’m just a beauty queen in tears. Rationally speaking, it seems completely morbid, almost masochistic. But against the uncertainty of the future and the unbearable waves of helplessness, the one constant is that I am most certainly gorgeous. And so vanity is my chosen sin.

Media Vanity

I’ve always loved fashion photography. There’s something so fascinating in capturing the human body bare or adorn. A slight shift in angle, lighting, scenery is enough to expose the potential of aesthetic beauty. That’s perhaps why one really gorgeous photo of myself has affected me so profoundly. My deep dive in the world of vanity has illuminated the concept of aesthetic beauty itself. It’s also pushed the question of beauty in our society and why it’s so deeply connected with our own value. I believe that beauty and self-worth are two completely separate virtues. Though beauty is, of course, subjective, there is still the common conventional standard of beauty which greatly influences our own standards. Wealth is also a question that arises with conventional beauty. Does beauty correlate with wealth, or does wealth correlate with beauty? And so, although everyone can be a valuable human existing, not everyone is beautiful. Nor should everyone be seen as beautiful. Aesthetic beauty is both incredibly valuable, and not valuable at all.