I was bored, what can I say. I stopped buying women’s magazines years ago, but when you sit at the hair salon getting a haircut, it’s either staring at your familiar, boring face as the stylist works, or picking a magazine and reading it. I chose the latter, and as I was reading, leafing through page after page, I was thinking, how can so much crap fit into one magazine? Of course I had to share it with you, so despite horrified glances from the stylist, I started taking pictures. Here it is – a thoroughly depressing collection of ads and editorials, aimed at women, from one of the top fashion magazines in the world.
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Women & Feminism
I always assumed I would have beautifully manicured nails when I became a grownup.
“Your hands say so much about you,” women’s magazines would warn, urging me to get weekly manicures or else, and I, a teenager, an eager consumer of those magazines, believed them. Dyed hair, manicured nails and high heels were what separated hopelessly unfashionable women from the stylish ones. Looking at my chipped nails, I knew I couldn’t afford weekly professional manicures – but someday I would.
As a college student, still lacking the funds to pay for professional beauty services, I stopped doing my own nails and went for the no-nonsense, cut short, bare nails look. Even when I started working as a professor’s assistant and making some money, my nails remained bare. Law school was hard and required lots of work – I just didn’t have the time to sit at a stupid salon leafing through women’s magazines, I reasoned.
But deep inside, I knew that someday, I would get a weekly manicure and would finally be the polished, successful woman I was always meant to be.
When I joined the workforce and started making real money (finally!), there were really no more excuses. So I attempted growing my fingernails and getting a weekly manicure. But I soon found out that (a) Long nails are the enemy of contact lenses; (b) long nails are the enemy of fast typing; (c) The 20-minute wait until a manicure dries completely is torture; and (d) Manicured nails don’t last a week (at least not for me). Under the best-case scenario, they last maybe a day or two.
So I stopped getting manicures and went back to my rebellious, college-days look of short, bare nails.
I am forty years old. I am most definitely grown up. I have money. If I don’t do manicures now, I probably never will. I feel bad about it, and yet I can’t bring myself to get regular manicures. My bare nails look bad, but manicured nails are just not me.
My friend has beautifully manicured nails, and as much as I’d like to say that she’s stupid and lazy and does nothing all day, I have to admit that she’s brilliant and smart and accomplished and does plenty of things every day apart from sitting at a stupid salon and getting her nails done.
I envy her beautiful nails.
Yesterday I noticed that my nails were becoming rather long. I went to the bathroom and picked up a nail file, deciding that the very least I could do was file my nails instead of just chop them off as I usually do. It took exactly four filing motions, back and forth, back and forth, for me to realize that I did not have the patience for even that. I chopped them off.
But I refuse to let go of the dream.
Some day, when I’m *really* grown up, I just know I’ll have perfectly manicured nails.
Completely by accident, I stumbled upon one of the stupidest paragraphs I have ever read.
“Despite spending years trying to understand women, reading up on their psychological make-up and occasionally watching Oprah for some insight, they’re still a mystery! It’s part of why we love them.”
It appears in a humorous article “teaching” men how to handle women, but it’s actually quite typical of many other articles, books and publications, all aimed at highlighting the differences between the genders and promoting gender wars.
Here’s my take on the subject.
1. Despite some differences, I am not a mystery. I am a person just like you, with very similar needs, wants and thoughts. Very boring, I know. But it’s true. Even the very stereotypical woman on the left is probably more similar to you than you think.
2. I’m a person first, a woman second. Yes, I am obviously a woman with female equipment and you may or may not feel attracted to me. But I am not – I will not – be defined by my gender. So whenever you wonder about what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling, it is fairly safe to assume that my thoughts, feelings, and aspirations are not that different than yours.
3. Being a second-class citizen is extremely difficult. Yes, even in the industrialized world, where women truly are blessed with rights that women in other parts of the world can only dream of, we are still second class. For a smart, talented, ambitious person who happens to be a female, it’s extremely frustrating.
4. I like you. I’m a feminist, and I’m angry that so many of you assume I’m somehow inferior just because I’m a female – I hate the tension between the genders. But that doesn’t mean I hate you. I like men. I think men have accomplished so much in terms of advancing humans and bringing us to where we are now. I also think many of you are cute. 
5. I remember reading somewhere that women’s deepest fear when it comes to men is being physically hurt. Men’s deepest fear when it comes to women is being laughed at. How sad! Just so you know, I’m not here to ridicule you or to make fun of you. Yes, if you ask me out on a date and I don’t feel attracted to you I will say “no,” but I will never try to hurt you on purpose. I am not the enemy. I am a fellow human being. We’re in this together, in this weird and intense and very temporary thing called “life.” We should be working together to make sense of things, not bickering and fighting and feeling suspicious of each other and writing stupid articles and books about how women are a mystery that men will never understand.
Despite the huge success of books like “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus,” my personal belief is that women and men are not that different. I really wish we could get along better!
To the woman who landed on my blog after searching for the phrase, “Where can I find sandals for ugly feet”:
No doubt, you were dismayed when your search had brought you to this blog post: The Ugliest Shoes I’ve Ever Seen. But I’m glad you found me (or maybe it is I who have found you – I doubt you stayed here more than a second once you’d realized how irrelevant to your search my blog post is), because I have something important to tell you.
Please stop doing this to yourself.
We all do it, of course – all women. We find something we hate about our body and focus on it to the point of self-loathing. In most cases, it is something only we notice, or something that while others MIGHT notice, they don’t really care, because they see us as a whole person, with an expressive face and eyes that reflect our personality and many different features and qualities – some might be considered attractive according to current beauty standards, others perhaps less so.
But the bottom line: You are an entire person and that’s what people see. Let me assure you, that when people look at you, they see YOU. No one looks at you and thinks, “Oh my, that woman certainly has ugly feet!”
This is true for a round tummy, for cellulite, and yes, even an entire collection of wobbly bits.
Mark Darcy: What on Earth are you doing?
Bridget Jones: Getting dressed.
Mark Darcy: Why are you dancing around in that tent business?
Bridget Jones: Because I don’t want you to see any of my wobbly bits.
Mark Darcy: Well now that’s a bit pointless, isn’t it? As I happen to have a very high regard for your wobbly bits. In all circumstances.
Bridget Jones: Really?
Mark Darcy: Absolutely. I think it’s high time we had another look.
One of my daughters recently asked me, “Mom, is my nose too big?” To which I promptly replied, “No. It’s the perfect nose for your face. But even if you had a big nose, it wouldn’t have mattered, because when people see you, they take in the entire you, not just one feature. So never focus on just one feature in yourself – good or bad – and allow it to take over. A beautiful person is a whole person. It is someone who takes good care of herself – eats well, exercises, respects her body. It’s also a person who is interesting to talk to, a well-read, intelligent person that radiates self confidence, loves herself and is kind to others.”
I won’t deny that ‘perfect’ external beauty is attractive. But it’s attractive only up to a point, and only if the personality behind it is not a turn-off. While the beauty, fashion and diet industries pour many advertising dollars into convincing us that external perfection should be our goal, we must learn to be very critical of these messages and work hard to avoid absorbing them.
In real life, outside the glossy pages of women’s magazines, external perfection, even if achievable (and in most cases it’s not) is not an indicator of happiness or success in life. Want to be “better?” Work hard to be the best person that you can all around – not to achieve pretty feet, a straight nose, or whatever else you think might be considered attractive according to today’s beauty standards.
Loved this comment: Thank you so much for posting this! The funny thing is, you could have written this to me… because I came across your blog literally by the search terms “sandals for ugly feet”! LOL I have horrible feet (both of my big toes look like huge cherry tomatoes… for real… and my toenails don’t grow well, so I have to keep them abnormally short)… anyway… I am working on just accepting them as they are and am trying very hard to not care what others might think. I felt like you wrote that blog directly to me, and it was so kind and truthful that it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for encouraging women and girls to just accept themselves and refocusing everyone on what is truly important!! I am happy to say that I took a HUGE leap today and bought a pair of sandals! (ACK!)… because I have very short and wide feet, it is hard for me to find shoes that fit, so most of the time I have to buy “good” shoes (read… $$$) in order for me to not want to amputate my feet due to pain, so I bought a pair of “good” sandals, and am now committed to wearing them and getting more comfortable with myself! Thank you again!! Nikki Fekete
I still remember, as a child, going shopping with my mom. I was 12. She was 38, a very attractive woman with long auburn hair and a petite, hourglass figure. She always wore short dresses and high heels. She looked great! I was so proud of her.
Male store clerks would often flatter her, looking at her, then at me, and asking me, “Is this your sister?” She always smiled politely. I always cringed a little, because even then, at the age of 12, a good 2-3 years before I became a feminist, on some level I knew that their “compliment” was in fact an insult.
It was an insult because they implied that a woman can’t be attractive unless she’s very young. And it was an insult because they stripped away her identity, the knowledge and wisdom she had gained through the years. Through their compliment, they implied that as a woman, she should aim to stay a child forever.
I am now about the same age my mother was back then. Today, at my 11-year-old daughter’s basketball game, one of the dads approached my husband, all smiles, and asked, gesturing towards me, “Is this your other daughter?” He was beaming, proud of himself for earning several brownie points with that one. I smiled politely (what can I say, politeness runs in the family), and when he left, turned to my husband, vexed, and said, “I don’t get it. This is exactly why I stopped coloring my hair. I don’t want this type of compliment! I don’t want people to think I’ll be grateful if they tell me I look younger than my age because (a) I don’t and (b) I’m not trying to!”
My husband thought it was a harmless compliment, the man’s way of letting me know he realizes I’m not young, but thinks I look good. To me, it still feels just like it felt back when I was 12: an insult to my intelligence.
Speaking of my husband, he had recently lost some weight and started exercising daily. He’s in his mid forties, and he looks – and feels – great. When a friend, who hadn’t seen him in a while, met him for lunch the other day, he told him “Wow, you look in top shape.” Now, THIS I consider a compliment. The friend was not implying that my husband looked younger than his age, that he SHOULD look younger, that he should WANT to look younger, or that the only way for him to look good is to appear younger than his age. In addition, “being in top shape” emphasizes health and fitness and not just looks.
If you want to pay me a compliment, please don’t tell me I look like my daughter’s sister. A simple “You look great” or “Wow, you obviously work out” will do.
In the photo: Vered DeLeeuw, female, age 39, looking in top shape.
Not my words. This is from Virginia DeBolt, who recently said on her Facebook page:
Dear whoever places the ads on my Facebook page,
I know I have wrinkles. I don’t want to remove them. You can show me a different ad now – I’ve seen the wrinkle remover one 1000 times and haven’t been moved to click.
I am my wrinkles, my wrinkles are me.
Another woman I admire, The Israeli actress Orna Porat, was asked years ago, when she was still in her forties, why she does nothing to eliminate her wrinkles. Her response has been quoted countless times since: “Why should I? I worked hard for my wrinkles. I have earned them!”
I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working on it.
A news anchor at the local TV station, a beautiful woman in her forties with a classic, timeless beauty, used to be my hero. I loved the way her forehead would wrinkle as she read the news. “See?” I told my husband. “Here’s a gorgeous woman who allows these signs of aging to show – on camera! And she’s still beautiful, and still employed!”
Not long after that, her forehead became frozen and smooth. She had lost her wrinkles, I lost a hero, and although I can’t possibly blame her for succumbing to the pressure to look younger and using Botox, her choice made me so very sad.
A real-life friend and a reader of this blog recently asked me, over dinner, how come I’m so “preoccupied” with my looks. I was a bit surprised by her question, because I don’t think I’m more preoccupied with my looks than I am with my kids, with my work, with the economy or with politics (although I choose not to discuss the latter on this blog).
So I simply said that for many women, looking good brings social acceptance, maybe even social power, and the process of losing that power is something you have to deal with. I don’t know that I’m necessarily “preoccupied” with this topic. But I’m certainly thinking about it and trying to find my way.
As far as I can tell, the main two ways for dealing with the physical signs of aging are:
(1) Fighting them.
(2) Accepting them.
Since I suspect option (1) creates a full time job that I don’t have the time nor the energy for, and the older you get the more demanding that “job” becomes, I hope to be one of the women who choose option (2).
As I said, I’m not there yet – still struggling – although allowing my hair to go gray is, for me, an important step in the right direction.
The beauty industry, the fashion industry, the weight loss industry, even the health care industry – those have no incentive whatsoever to tell us to focus on being healthy and fit, to love how we look and accept ourselves. On the contrary, many modern industries are built on people being unhappy with how they look and trying to “improve” themselves.
I remember reading the story of a middle aged woman who said she hates to smile, because smiling emphasizes her wrinkles. It made me so sad to read that, and determined to smile as much and as often as I can, even if it crinkles the skin around my eyes, even if it brings out those crow’s feet, etching them into my face.
It is up to us to decide – at any age – if we are to buy into impossible beauty standards, or if we are to eat well, exercise in moderation, love and laugh and grow old and refuse to waste time, energy and money on trying to become some fantasy version of who we really are.
Sarah Jessica Parker has veiny hands!
I have prominent arm veins.
I never realized I should feel bad about it until the media told me I should.
It’s become a fun game – paparazzi are photographing female celebrities’ hands and feet up close to capture their veiny appearance, and the media is publishing those images with much glee.
You can’t win, really. If you gain weight, they make fun of you for “packing on the pounds.” If you stay slim and work out, they make fun of you for being “scary thin” or “veiny.” Whatever we do, whatever we look like, apparently we should feel deeply ashamed about our appearance.
You can tell me that the media only does this to celebrities and that celebrities deserve this type of treatment, but I’m not buying that. I disagree that anyone deserves this kind of treatment, and I disagree with the assumption that scrutinizing and documenting celebrities’ imperfections does not make us non-celebrity-women feel worse about our own bodies.
If you think that realizing that celebrities are imperfect will make you feel better about yourself, think again. When you’re exposed to headlines that keep dissecting women, showing their imperfect body parts, you will start dissecting yourself too, carefully scrutinizing yourself in the mirror, looking for imperfections, and feeling ashamed and self-conscious when you inevitably find them.
When I look at this photo of myself, taken a couple of years ago in Barcelona, all I can see is arm veins. And after being exposed to thousands of media messages telling me that I should feel ashamed, I indeed feel ashamed. Deeply so. Even though I eat well, exercise but not excessively, and am at a healthy weight for my height. So in my case it’s likely genetic – my late grandfather had prominent veins, and my mother has them too.
But I still feel ashamed and self-conscious. (And please don’t tell me it’s not so bad. This is not the point of this post, plus this is a forgiving picture actually.)
Think the women-hating messages spewed by the media on a daily basis do not affect you? Think again. From my own personal experience, they do.
Loved this comment: “If you are overweight you are ugly, if you are underweight you are ugly, if you are too short you are ugly, if you are too tall you are ugly. If your hair is too dark you are ugly, if your hair is too light, you are ugly. So who does that leave in this world that is attractive? No one? I have veiny hands, am over weight and have brown eyes. And I am attractive!” – Emsxiety
I'm Vered DeLeeuw, a blogger for hire and a social media consultant. My social media campaigns increase brand awareness and loyalty, improve search engine rankings and drive targeted traffic to my clients' websites. Momgrind is my personal blog.
