This is a follow-up to last week’s question about your first point of contact with beauty standards. I realized that, for the story I want to write, I’m interested in the trajectory.
Feel free to respond here or by email, elizamondegreen@gmail.com!
When women go through menopause,they can regain a new sense of themselves and often begin to realize how much time is consumed meeting up to beauty standards. To be free to be a person again, not a woman who has to look pretty, is a benefit of this time of life.
I’m 62, went thru menopause 10 years ago, and I don’t feel free. Social expectations don’t go away. Professional expectations don’t go away. We don’t get to look silver-haired and distinguished, except maybe in academia. I’m a lawyer. I’ve maybe shaved 10 years off my appearance with fillers and a brow lift, but it’s a losing battle. I can’t wait until retirement!
Yes, the pressure to look young is more on women, and it is certainly an issue at the workplace where older employees are often not valued. So, I still dye my hair-my one big concession to beauty standards. I am with you on retirement-counting the years, sometimes week by week! I feel free that sexual attraction isn't so important to me anymore. Much of this adherence to beauty standards is wrapped up in that, don't you think?
Hello. New contributor here. I am 56 and although I’ve been traditionally ‘beautiful’ (weird to write that but true-profile picture is 3 years old), I’m developing jowls as the muscles in my face drop with age. There’s no denying that age comes to us all. A few years ago someone, I can’t remember who now, said ‘beauty fades’ to me. This phrase rang like a bell in my ears and I found myself repeating it; knowing on some unfathomable level, this was an important thing to let sink in.
I realise my unearned ‘power’ leaves me but it’s not the end. As beauty fades something new truly comes into force. Like a stream, a flow, in what may be my unconscious a certain gravitas, wisdom, clarity is emerging in me. I’m a therapist and find myself naturally shifting; saying things like ‘I’m old enough to say this now’; talking from confidence of lifes experience; with more certainty and authority. It’s a good place to be if you can have the space to let it in.
My first remembering of beauty is probably my mother who is a natural beauty and almost everyone telling me how beautiful she was (and is still). My first remembrance of not meeting the public beauty standards was when I was in 4th grade and two of my friends and I decided to play Charlie’s Angels which comprised of us trying to do our hair like the 3 stars of the show and failing badly. I curled and sprayed and then turned to my friend and asked if I looked like Jacqueline Smith. She bluntly said, “No!” I weirdly hurt but I soldiered on chasing beauty into my middle school, high school and College years. I was a nerdy bookworm chasing beauty and popularity to the detriment of my schoolwork. I went to College where part of it subsided and I had a great group of fun friends. While we definitely made efforts on our appearances (it was the late 80s) our personalities and social life were the focus. I remember it as a tough but optimistic time. I made tons of mistakes and did wild, free things with friends and boyfriends, while all the while thinking everything would work out. And it did! While I compared myself to others and magazine covers, I never lost sight of the reality of who I was or felt it limited me in any way. My problems never came from my appearance but instead underestimating my abilities.
What I find interesting now, is I have 2 daughters and the opposite is true with them. They are really pretty (and I am not saying that as their mother, I have never had them focus on their looks but on their abilities) but they feel ugly and not so free or optimistic. Happy to discuss further if needed.
Just as a follow up-now in my mid 50s I still make an effort and care about my looks but I realize beauty is leaning into strengths and health. I don’t chase trends but keep as healthy and social as possible.
I rejected it all. At age 7 I rejected dolls, age 10 I rejected dresses, 12 I told my beloved Grandfather I wouldnt have a baby , marry a man or have sex...well 2 outta 3 at least lifelong.
I was a hardcore tomboy and hated girly stuff. I identified with the far more fun action and adventure boy/ man roles and not being stuck in a kitchen, housework or raising babies.
I saw myself reflected in West Side Story as Anybodys( the ORIGINAL West Side Story). A tomboy the gang didn't take seriously but she stayed true to her tomboy self never femming up. Being I ALSO grew up in the upper West Side, I had my own little " gang" of kids I ran and played with. So I felt West Side Story in many ways was my story. Though we were younger.
Nonetheless Anybodys was one of my rare role models.
My family put me in Girl Scouts and Charm school to feminize me but NONE of it worked. I eventually got into ice hockey for two years at 12 and 13, the only girl in the whole league, then martial arts at 14 which became my lifelong niche.
Id spend time with my Grandmother during the Summer as a teen and she would try to get me in heels( low heels) light makeup, and form fitting bodysuits like she wore. But away from her influence I only wire the most androgynous clothing once back home for the school year.
My Mother shamed me for not being feminine but neither did she waste money on clothes I wouldnt wear.
At 20 I came out as a Butch Lesbians. ALL us Butches have stories of relatives, friends and others trying to feminize us rather than JUST ACCEPT our young tomboy selves..And in the early 1960s there weren't alot of role models for us...
I've always found female beauty standards to be arbitrary and damaging, so my trajectory is a horizontal line. I'm 63 and from my earliest memories I wanted nothing to do with beauty standards and fashion. Boring! As a teen I can remember the girls my age laying on the bed to wrestle into skintight jeans and I thought they were crazy. That had to hurt! Same with itchy hose and high heels. Comfortable jeans or shorts, and a T-shirt (cotton) for me. I tried makeup, did not like the feel on my skin and I felt it was bizarre that a bare female face was thought to be unattractive. At 10-yrs-old I had a large dog jump up to check the bowl I was holding, and his claw caught and ripped my face open above the lip. I remember 15 stitches and I had a bright red, arching scar for many years until it faded in young adulthood. My mother was traumatized but I found the reaction of people fascinating. I was obviously a very weird kid. I always understood that I did not fit the common "beauty standard" bandwagon, but I also understood there were men out there who did not care about that standard and found me attractive. I was told I was "exotic," with almost-black hair and a slightly Asian appearance. Aging is quite an experience. I don't mind the fading of youth, the loss of elasticity and the whitening of the hair, but I admit to being bothered by skin tags and have yearly visits to dermatology for sun damage. I think the obsession with plastic surgery for a certain "look" is damaging our society, just as an obsession with thinness in the 70's and 80's increased the prevalence of anorexia. Too many women (and some men) are turning themselves into cyborgs. Perhaps we (women) need to learn to accept ourselves and see our natural beauty.
My parents were hippy/bohemians and disagreed with conventional beauty labour. My mother never wore make-up and she wouldn't let us do ballet or anything else that turned out pretty girls. She was also a feminist in the 1960s. When I put on a lot of weight visiting the USA and came back to NZ age 17 upset by this, and eventually tried fasting. I was saved from anorexia because I was not tutored to be competitive and I had alternative ideas about my body. At the time I knew 11 people around my age with anorexia and it was frightening to me. My Dad hated fat women and loved beauty but that mainly impacted my sister. And because of our early feminism we knew he was wrong! He also had a great sense of style and liked flamboyance so it wasn't all bad. Also two UK young women's mags went through an anti-make-up feminist phase before the editors were sacked and I read them at that time. But I felt plump and I only learned that my sense of myself as thin was unattainable when I was on crutches for 6 months age 37 and I finally got thin thighs but my breasts which I love disappeared. I have no intention of abandoning my beauty/style/flamboyance/colour because of menopause or anything else.
Beauty standards: as I have aged, I have become much more tolerant and relaxed about other people, almost lacking in beauty "standards", but this relaxation does not include me completely. I think that there is a level of "grooming" that we as humans do and expect others to do, a sort of social standard of acceptable appearance that is related to what we call beauty standards, but is perhaps connected in a deeper and unconscious way to, well, to features of our species as a social species that reproduces sexually.
Regarding myself: I feel that I must "put my face on" to face the world. It is not a matter of beauty, but... I don't feel the need to look beautiful, but to look like the version of me that I created in, I dunno, 1999 or 2002, a me that was not middle-aged but in her "prime" (read, mating prime, 25 to 31?). I feel the need to present myself well-groomed, and that includes a certain level of "making" up: eyebrows and some type of foundation are not optional, for me, but nearly every other element of makeup is. White hairs, too, must be concealed, as well as hair in other body parts that are not my head...
The need to be attractive to those we want to attract --not just individuals, but the whole category of individuals that are "our mating target"-- is, I think, a normal (by that, I mean species-typical) behavior. But in a society with medical technologies that are used for "body modification" and "embodiment goals", and a very profitable beauty industry, and the marketization of our bodies as commodities, the normal human behavior is perverted and becomes practically maladaptive. The human body ages, and thus, ages out of "mating" potential, but we seem unable to accept that. Especially women, whose biological reality definitely kicks us out of "matingness" at a particular age.
We need to valorize all stages of human life, male and female, or we run the risk of being miserable for a very long time, since we are increasingly living longer and longer. Must we turn 80 before we accept that we are not "attractive" or "beautiful" in the sense of sexually attractive? Must we live insecure between the ages of 45 and 80, hoping to go back to 35 or 25? I am aiming for 50: that's a year and a few months away. That day, I will say, I am finally NOT required by myself or societal grooming norms to present as sexually attractive. I am just me. I am aging and that is awesome, because one either ages, or dies.
When women go through menopause,they can regain a new sense of themselves and often begin to realize how much time is consumed meeting up to beauty standards. To be free to be a person again, not a woman who has to look pretty, is a benefit of this time of life.
I’m 62, went thru menopause 10 years ago, and I don’t feel free. Social expectations don’t go away. Professional expectations don’t go away. We don’t get to look silver-haired and distinguished, except maybe in academia. I’m a lawyer. I’ve maybe shaved 10 years off my appearance with fillers and a brow lift, but it’s a losing battle. I can’t wait until retirement!
Yes, the pressure to look young is more on women, and it is certainly an issue at the workplace where older employees are often not valued. So, I still dye my hair-my one big concession to beauty standards. I am with you on retirement-counting the years, sometimes week by week! I feel free that sexual attraction isn't so important to me anymore. Much of this adherence to beauty standards is wrapped up in that, don't you think?
Hello. New contributor here. I am 56 and although I’ve been traditionally ‘beautiful’ (weird to write that but true-profile picture is 3 years old), I’m developing jowls as the muscles in my face drop with age. There’s no denying that age comes to us all. A few years ago someone, I can’t remember who now, said ‘beauty fades’ to me. This phrase rang like a bell in my ears and I found myself repeating it; knowing on some unfathomable level, this was an important thing to let sink in.
I realise my unearned ‘power’ leaves me but it’s not the end. As beauty fades something new truly comes into force. Like a stream, a flow, in what may be my unconscious a certain gravitas, wisdom, clarity is emerging in me. I’m a therapist and find myself naturally shifting; saying things like ‘I’m old enough to say this now’; talking from confidence of lifes experience; with more certainty and authority. It’s a good place to be if you can have the space to let it in.
My first remembering of beauty is probably my mother who is a natural beauty and almost everyone telling me how beautiful she was (and is still). My first remembrance of not meeting the public beauty standards was when I was in 4th grade and two of my friends and I decided to play Charlie’s Angels which comprised of us trying to do our hair like the 3 stars of the show and failing badly. I curled and sprayed and then turned to my friend and asked if I looked like Jacqueline Smith. She bluntly said, “No!” I weirdly hurt but I soldiered on chasing beauty into my middle school, high school and College years. I was a nerdy bookworm chasing beauty and popularity to the detriment of my schoolwork. I went to College where part of it subsided and I had a great group of fun friends. While we definitely made efforts on our appearances (it was the late 80s) our personalities and social life were the focus. I remember it as a tough but optimistic time. I made tons of mistakes and did wild, free things with friends and boyfriends, while all the while thinking everything would work out. And it did! While I compared myself to others and magazine covers, I never lost sight of the reality of who I was or felt it limited me in any way. My problems never came from my appearance but instead underestimating my abilities.
What I find interesting now, is I have 2 daughters and the opposite is true with them. They are really pretty (and I am not saying that as their mother, I have never had them focus on their looks but on their abilities) but they feel ugly and not so free or optimistic. Happy to discuss further if needed.
Just as a follow up-now in my mid 50s I still make an effort and care about my looks but I realize beauty is leaning into strengths and health. I don’t chase trends but keep as healthy and social as possible.
I’ve never taken notice of beauty standards. Ever. I try my hardest to see the beauty in all things.
I saw your previous post and irregardless of what you thought of yourself as a teenager, you’ve grown into a beautiful adult.
I rejected it all. At age 7 I rejected dolls, age 10 I rejected dresses, 12 I told my beloved Grandfather I wouldnt have a baby , marry a man or have sex...well 2 outta 3 at least lifelong.
I was a hardcore tomboy and hated girly stuff. I identified with the far more fun action and adventure boy/ man roles and not being stuck in a kitchen, housework or raising babies.
I saw myself reflected in West Side Story as Anybodys( the ORIGINAL West Side Story). A tomboy the gang didn't take seriously but she stayed true to her tomboy self never femming up. Being I ALSO grew up in the upper West Side, I had my own little " gang" of kids I ran and played with. So I felt West Side Story in many ways was my story. Though we were younger.
Nonetheless Anybodys was one of my rare role models.
My family put me in Girl Scouts and Charm school to feminize me but NONE of it worked. I eventually got into ice hockey for two years at 12 and 13, the only girl in the whole league, then martial arts at 14 which became my lifelong niche.
Id spend time with my Grandmother during the Summer as a teen and she would try to get me in heels( low heels) light makeup, and form fitting bodysuits like she wore. But away from her influence I only wire the most androgynous clothing once back home for the school year.
My Mother shamed me for not being feminine but neither did she waste money on clothes I wouldnt wear.
At 20 I came out as a Butch Lesbians. ALL us Butches have stories of relatives, friends and others trying to feminize us rather than JUST ACCEPT our young tomboy selves..And in the early 1960s there weren't alot of role models for us...
I've always found female beauty standards to be arbitrary and damaging, so my trajectory is a horizontal line. I'm 63 and from my earliest memories I wanted nothing to do with beauty standards and fashion. Boring! As a teen I can remember the girls my age laying on the bed to wrestle into skintight jeans and I thought they were crazy. That had to hurt! Same with itchy hose and high heels. Comfortable jeans or shorts, and a T-shirt (cotton) for me. I tried makeup, did not like the feel on my skin and I felt it was bizarre that a bare female face was thought to be unattractive. At 10-yrs-old I had a large dog jump up to check the bowl I was holding, and his claw caught and ripped my face open above the lip. I remember 15 stitches and I had a bright red, arching scar for many years until it faded in young adulthood. My mother was traumatized but I found the reaction of people fascinating. I was obviously a very weird kid. I always understood that I did not fit the common "beauty standard" bandwagon, but I also understood there were men out there who did not care about that standard and found me attractive. I was told I was "exotic," with almost-black hair and a slightly Asian appearance. Aging is quite an experience. I don't mind the fading of youth, the loss of elasticity and the whitening of the hair, but I admit to being bothered by skin tags and have yearly visits to dermatology for sun damage. I think the obsession with plastic surgery for a certain "look" is damaging our society, just as an obsession with thinness in the 70's and 80's increased the prevalence of anorexia. Too many women (and some men) are turning themselves into cyborgs. Perhaps we (women) need to learn to accept ourselves and see our natural beauty.
My parents were hippy/bohemians and disagreed with conventional beauty labour. My mother never wore make-up and she wouldn't let us do ballet or anything else that turned out pretty girls. She was also a feminist in the 1960s. When I put on a lot of weight visiting the USA and came back to NZ age 17 upset by this, and eventually tried fasting. I was saved from anorexia because I was not tutored to be competitive and I had alternative ideas about my body. At the time I knew 11 people around my age with anorexia and it was frightening to me. My Dad hated fat women and loved beauty but that mainly impacted my sister. And because of our early feminism we knew he was wrong! He also had a great sense of style and liked flamboyance so it wasn't all bad. Also two UK young women's mags went through an anti-make-up feminist phase before the editors were sacked and I read them at that time. But I felt plump and I only learned that my sense of myself as thin was unattainable when I was on crutches for 6 months age 37 and I finally got thin thighs but my breasts which I love disappeared. I have no intention of abandoning my beauty/style/flamboyance/colour because of menopause or anything else.
Beauty standards: as I have aged, I have become much more tolerant and relaxed about other people, almost lacking in beauty "standards", but this relaxation does not include me completely. I think that there is a level of "grooming" that we as humans do and expect others to do, a sort of social standard of acceptable appearance that is related to what we call beauty standards, but is perhaps connected in a deeper and unconscious way to, well, to features of our species as a social species that reproduces sexually.
Regarding myself: I feel that I must "put my face on" to face the world. It is not a matter of beauty, but... I don't feel the need to look beautiful, but to look like the version of me that I created in, I dunno, 1999 or 2002, a me that was not middle-aged but in her "prime" (read, mating prime, 25 to 31?). I feel the need to present myself well-groomed, and that includes a certain level of "making" up: eyebrows and some type of foundation are not optional, for me, but nearly every other element of makeup is. White hairs, too, must be concealed, as well as hair in other body parts that are not my head...
The need to be attractive to those we want to attract --not just individuals, but the whole category of individuals that are "our mating target"-- is, I think, a normal (by that, I mean species-typical) behavior. But in a society with medical technologies that are used for "body modification" and "embodiment goals", and a very profitable beauty industry, and the marketization of our bodies as commodities, the normal human behavior is perverted and becomes practically maladaptive. The human body ages, and thus, ages out of "mating" potential, but we seem unable to accept that. Especially women, whose biological reality definitely kicks us out of "matingness" at a particular age.
We need to valorize all stages of human life, male and female, or we run the risk of being miserable for a very long time, since we are increasingly living longer and longer. Must we turn 80 before we accept that we are not "attractive" or "beautiful" in the sense of sexually attractive? Must we live insecure between the ages of 45 and 80, hoping to go back to 35 or 25? I am aiming for 50: that's a year and a few months away. That day, I will say, I am finally NOT required by myself or societal grooming norms to present as sexually attractive. I am just me. I am aging and that is awesome, because one either ages, or dies.