It has been said that “A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction.” But what did Oscar Wilde mean when he wrote this?
In a society where we are pressured to keep up appearances there are a great many fictitious representations being passed about.
Autobiographical face – one that tells the story of the life you’ve lived. I suppose an autobiography tells of what you ate, what makes you laugh, how stressed you are. This translates into laugh lines, frown lines, maybe clear skin, white teeth indicating a balanced diet. An autobiographical face in some regards depends on what genes you are passed down.
Fictional face – one contrived to appear pleasant (based on the opinion of the author) and attractive. Fiction is imaginary, weaving a fantasy that draws people in to uncover the pages within.
This quote is a controversial one, for me insinuating that women spin a web of deceit to attract others to them. To an extent, I agree with it.
What You Want?
Society has established a set of expectations that are dispensed unequally to males and females. There’s an expectation of sometimes aesthetically unachievable thrust upon us. Most of us consume media that has been filtered to manufacture an image to aspire to (advertising). Long hair, silky smooth skin without a dimple, perky breasts, neon white teeth, and a face with perfectly shaped, thick eyebrows and a healthy glow that appears we’ve just returned from a beach holiday.
What You Get.
So there you are, overweight, acne prone with greasy skin, medium length limp hair, cellulite and a few handles for love to grab a hold of. What are you to do? You could go on a vegan diet, pay an Instagram trainer, wash your face and teeth with charcoal, swathe in coconut oil. After a year or two I am sure you will net results, eventually. Or you might scrub off layers of dentin, give up on the militant diet and gain 30 pounds more, breakout and end up looking like this?
Don’t Be a Judge Judy
Or you can get a quick fix – slap on some makeup, get a bit of Botox, lip fillers, faux lashes, get breast implants, some liposuction and jump on IG showing off. NOW, I am not opposed to people spending their hard earned money to enhance their appearance – it’s their prerogative. I am not opposed to you making money from this new you (everyone’s a model thanks to IG) – it is always good to have return on any investment dollar you spend.
However! where I take exception…………There are people (cosmetic enhancement is not exclusive to women) that pay to be modified and then spend a great deal of time shaming or talking about others. Sweetie, you had a lapland, stop talking about how fat that lady is when you were ten ton Sally last year. Darling, you have on 10 layers of makeup, please stop calling people ugly especially when we haven’t seen your face since 1982. Buff guy, just because you had calf implants does not give you license to insult the skinny fella just starting on his weightlifting journey.
I am no angel on top of the Christmas tree – I find mind self being judgemental at times but then I just hold up that selfie camera and shock myself back into humility. We all have flaws which should invoke some kindness in us.
On the flip side, we now have men who are hat-fishing ladies. For those of you unfamiliar with this practice, it’s when a man wears a hat to conceal his receding or non-existent hairline. There are men getting weaves. There are men using foundation to correct some of the same skin flaws women suffer from.
Men who criticise women presenting fictional novels, ask yourself what you glorify. Is it real? Is it attainable? Is it maintainable? You are criticising the good looking woman in a face full of makeup but if you expect a blemish-free, even toned face to wake up to, what do you think you’re going to get?
Some of us want to grow old gracefully and embrace our flaws but some of us want to to reel in a mate using fictional voodoo.
Whatever your motives, you are the author of your book but not free from the reactions of others. I leave you with a clip from a favourite movie of mine, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka. Hey Cherry!
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