This song is so ridiculous I couldn’t resist. Christina Aguilera’s “Vanity” (featuring images of the Evil Queen from Sleeping Beauty)
I’ve been thinking about the concept of vanity a lot lately. It’s a term that usually takes a negative connotation but for me it all depends on your point. We are all vain. Some people more so than others but we are all vain.
We care about how we look and hope to be considered attractive. You can go as far as plastic surgery or just spend an extra little money on that hair gel that “really” works for “your” hair. (Unless you’re like Suave or my brother, and then you may pay a little extra for the best shave gel or blades to keep your head “smooth.”) I know that I feel better when my hair is permed, eyebrows arched, toenails painted, legs shaved, clothes fitted, shoes unscuffed, jewelry matching, perfume on, etc. I spend a lot of time (and money) on maintaining what I have or distracting from what I don’t. Nice butt? Pencil skirts. Long legs? Slim pants. Small chest? Ruffles. No upper lip? Play up the eyes.
Now do I work that hard every day? No, I don’t have enough energy for all of that. Although I value being well put together, I do my best to just look put together, not obviously spending 45 minutes on my hair, 30 minutes on my makeup and an hour assembling that ensemble. (Hint: It helps when your entire wardrobe is black, white and grey. J ) Regardless, I get upset or feel bad when I look in a mirror and my hair’s doing something crazy, my mascara has smeared or I get a run in my stockings. And if it’s not something easily fixable, it can bug me for hours.
But if it’s just caring about how you look why consider it vanity rather than just looking good? Because my mascara is just as unnecessary as a nose job. It simply costs less and doesn’t involve cutting and therefore is more “normal.” If I can’t be happy with the way I look clean faced and in sweatpants (or god forbid naked), everything I do to look better after that is due to vanity. I go to the gym to look good in my existing clothes, not for my health. Therefore it’s vanity. The things I do to my hair are not good for it but I’ve convinced myself harsh chemicals and prolonged heat make me pretty. Vanity. Acne is not unhealthy but it sure is unattractive, so two face washes (one for deep cleaning and the other exfoliation, haha) and two acne products later, I’m closer to clear. Vanity. Showering should be sufficient but perfume lingers (in a good way). Obviously my eyelids are not a dusty lavender with dark brown shading but it matches my outfit. Crooked teeth don’t affect my well-being, just my self-esteem. So thousands of dollars and years in braces later, I can confidently smile. Vanity.
My point: vanity is normal. And although we all get annoyed at the people who constantly strive to prove how attractive they are or drive us crazy with their complaints of a lack of beauty, we’re all there is some way. When we step out of the shower, into our closet, in front of a mirror, out of the salon/barbershop, into of the tanning booth, out of the gym, or into a dressing room. So when I get annoyed at those that go overboard, I have to remember it’s not hard for someone to tear apart my regiments.
Again not completely applicable but I couldn’t resist. (OK, not applicable at all but it came to mind.) Belle & Sebastian “Step Into My Office Baby”
It’s a well-known fact that even the mildly talented musicians, artists and dancers make woman swoon. As much as I’d like to count myself out of this group, I can’t. John Mayer, Robin Thicke, John Legend, Rob Thomas, Brian McKnight, Usher and the like may be (mildly) talented but they’re not necessarily all that attractive. (I’ve chosen to go with off the top of my head, relatively current singers/musicians because that’s my world but feel free to fill in the blanks for yourself.) I wouldn’t go so far as to say any of these men are “ugly” per se. BUT they all go from “good” to “good Lord” in the eyes of most female fans when they perform (or you listen to their CD, since few artists are actually good live nowadays. Back in my day…) Most men, that are not artists, dancers or musicians, find this change annoying. How can they possibly compete?
The simple answer is: You probably can’t. But if the situation presents itself, it’s about being passionate about something other people understand. Put simply “Passion is attractive.” When a man’s genuinely excited about something he’s created or figured out (as long as it’s not COMPLETELY out of your realm of understanding/agreement), I usually find his description intriguing. You may not be able to follow every detail, you follow his emotion. The intrigue may have something to do with hoping he’d one day be that passionate about you but that would be deeply subconscious if at all. I think it’s more that passion is just attractive.
Musicians, artists, dancers – generally anyone in the creative arts – have it pretty easy. I mean they still have to be creative and seen as good but their passion is (usually) connected to their craft. And their crafts are available for mass consumption. People have deep emotional (and sometimes physical) reactions to visual and auditory stimuli. Expressive art is only truly expressive once the viewer has connected it to something they understand. Romantic music has little impact until the listener begins to daydream and/or reminisce. Dancers are interesting because the audience begins to wish their movements were as powerful and expressive. It all comes down to feeling something and in that way, the creative arts have it easy.
So what’s the common man to do? To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. I have no idea what to tell you. Yes, I realize I just set this whole comparison up with no resolution but what can I say? This blog is just a place to dump thoughts. 🙂 I wanted to give a little background to what I’ve coined “Corporate Crushes.”
Over the last few years (since leaving college really), I’ve had the pleasure/obligation of being tasked with relationship building and consulting. These are vague terms, I understand. And I intend to keep them that way. The important thing to note is that part of my job has been to listen and determine how my organization can help. This required level of listening often lends itself to being exposed to other people’s passions.
(For whatever reason, the majority of the people I encounter are men. I’m sure a corporate crush could translate to a woman. But in my (straight) case, I imagine it would be more of a desired mentor than a crush per se. Anyway….)
As I listen to these men pitch/explain/complain to me, I realize little corporate crushes. I’m in no way actually attracted to them. It’s not at all a physical thing. On the contrary, it’s a simple desire to help them realize their passions, a desire to share their temporary passionate outburst. Their sincerity is usually heartwarming. It’s almost like kids with a new toy and business plan. While I’m sure none of the 35+, C-suite executives would agree with my categorization, it’s just my initial reaction. I can’t help it.
Corporate crushes aren’t anything to be ashamed of. I’m not falling head over heels or offering unrealistic expectations. And the passion has to be backed up by reality. But if everything falls into place, I walk away thinking “How can I help? I want to help.” If they were musicians, I’d walk away in search of the merch table.
Does anyone else experience these temporary “Corporate Crushes”?
Not the perfect fit but what can you do? Maroon 5 featuring Rihanna “If I Never See Your Face Again”
I’ve recently started to try to be more open to dating. I’m not overly excited by it or just saying yes but self-inflicted perpetual singledom may have reached its limit. It’s started to get a little old. I’d have to give a little credit to my roommate/ex-wife and her boyfriend. I don’t want him or even what they have. But he/they have caused me to lose my perpetually single buddy. It’s really no fun to do it alone. I could find a new lost-in-singledom comrade or, heaven forbid, abandon the title myself.
Against my own advice, I promised a friend (actually several) that I’d start being nicer to potential suitors. As with most endeavours (possibly) worth taking, there are going to be bumps, hurdles and tragic moments that eventually become great stories. In a seemingly very short period of time, I’ve re-encountered the assholes, wholly entitled, douche bags, horn dogs, swingers, dirty old men, unbelievably immature, hopelessly awkward and everything in between. I’m not expecting (or even hoping) to find the perfect man. For one thing, I have no idea what he looks like but I’m sure it’s the opposite of whatever I could come up with right now. And second, I’m not even going to pretend I’m ready for anything that grown-up. But what I am looking for is temptation.
Now, I don’t mean temptation in the completely physical sense (although that’s definitely part of it). I’m looking to be excited to see you, worry about what I’m going to wear to see you, feel motivated to do my hair, brush my teeth right before I see you, shave my legs, etc. Some of that may sound ridiculous but it’s not really. (Or I really am just ridiculous. What’s the real difference anyway?) I need to be nervous, not annoyed. And believe me, the opposite definitely happens. And how do you gracefully get out of a situation that’s moved toward annoyance?
I recently spent some time with a gentleman who’d crossed what was a line in the sand turning it into a gulf as wide as the Grand Canyon. Before I get started on this poor soul, I’ve got to be fair. He’s nice (enough), intelligent, well-educated, attentive (maybe a little too…), fluent in a language I’d love to speak, has a great career in a highly specialized area of surgery, loves to travel, and I’m sure many other things. He had a lot of the things that I imagine I’d include in a list of ideal traits in a partner. However, two very important things were missing: the physical and the emotional.
From the outside, it/we probably looked promising. He was completely “into” me (although I’d be willing to bet that was mostly physical) and he seemed to be able to keep me engaged intellectually. Sadly, that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. True, he was “interested” but it was nearly impossible to determine if that was just in hopes of something physical or a genuine interest in both. (Come on. Let’s just be honest. You can be as intellectually intrigued as you want to be but some level of physical has to be there to push you to continue.) I, on the other hand, wasn’t really “feeling” him and was already put off by the way we met. You see, we met on Halloween. I was intoxicated and half-naked (refer to Halloween Ho). It’s rare that I’m that intoxicated and even more rare that I have that much skin exposed in public outside of pools and beaches. The fact that I drew his continued interest that evening sent up red flags. Should I take it as a compliment? Sure. But does that mean I care to pursue it? Not really. Regardless, he ended up with my phone number and called. I had to decide if I was going to be a jerk or be a little more open. After a little mental anguish, I thought “what the hell?”
Unfortunately, this gentleman just came on way too strong and way too physically intimate. At dinner, the conversation was consistent but a little strained. We were in a booth and he kept getting closer. While I imagine he thought it was romantic, getting so close that I can’t comfortably lift my fork to eat is not hot. I like to eat. And how am I supposed to just take a bite when the conversation dies or gets awkward? Get away from me. I don’t know you. Stop staring at me. Don’t trace circles on the inside of my palm. Can’t you read I’m getting tense and ever so slightly scooting away from you? Telling me that American women are strange in the way we react to invitations and actions is not going to help your case. I am American after all. If you have all this background knowledge on our potential reactions, why feel the need to test your hypothesis on me? If you decide to stroke my face as I’m tensing up and trying to get away, PLEASE don’t try to stick your finger in my mouth! (No, I’m not kidding. He did.) One, I don’t know where those fingers have been, nor am I in a mood not to care. Two, seriously? What the hell are you doing? If I back away, don’t get more aggressive with your desire to open my jaw. When I ask you what you’re doing and tell you I’ll bite you if you try that again, don’t assume I’m being playful. I’m serious. I’ll aim to draw blood. Get away from me.
Now, I completely understand that this particular man is not normal. Whatever’s worked for him in the past is simply not my cup of tea. And if I had felt anything for him, I might have been more understanding, accepting, thought some of it was cute, or willing to explain what I’d like him to do. But because I really had no desire to be around him, I was just completely turned off by everything he did. Yes, I realize that probably sounds mean and maybe somewhat conceited. I’m not saying that I have all of these wonderful men lining up at my feet. In fact, the only thing by my feet is my puppy Rodman. But you know what? If it’s Rodman or a man who gives me the creeps, I’ll take canine companionship every time. When you find yourself thinking, “Please don’t try to kiss me. I’d rather finish the DVD.”, it’s probably time to get out. Like anyone else who’s tried it, I know it’s just not worth trying to force the attraction.
For you, attraction may not mean the carnal, physical impulse. It could be a more subdued desire to be around/with that person. (Hoping that around means with. I’m not promoting stalking.) But if you don’t have either desire, you don’t really have anything. If you’re not finding yourself willing to sacrifice your time (and possibly finances) to “hang out” with this person, just stop now. More than likely the other person is feeling this type of “connection” and you’re running the risk of leading them on and coming out the jerk/bitch. Cut if off early and save yourself the excess drama.
A good friend of mine constantly tells me that I have to give people (meaning men) a chance. The hopeless romantic, she chooses to hope/believe things will work out in the end. Just have fun. You never know. (Except I do. Or at least I’d like to believe I do.) The best relationship this friend has been in began without the mutual physical attraction. In fact, there were a few things about this gentleman that didn’t fit her “list”. She tells me to give the “not gorgeous” a chance. ( Now, to be fair, my standards aren’t that outrageous. They’re just particular. I can’t tell you what I like but I can tell you when I do. Anyway…) Of course, I’m not gorgeous. As I like to say, I’m pleasantly average. There are times that I can look really good but I rarely look worse that I do on average. I’m happy with this happy medium. With this reality and subsequent mindset, I can’t expect to attract anyone too far out of my self-described category. Although I’ll say that it is a little easier for men. If you’re cute, you’re just cute. Sure a haircut, fresh shave, nice clothes, etc, can help your case. But in the end, what you look like in the yard, at the gym, in the office, at the club doesn’t usually change all that much. Women, on the other hand, have all of these tools to make us look better (while possibly not real). But that’s an entirely different post. Ideas….
The one thing my friend fails to mention is that while her man may not have been her ideal physical type, there was “something about him.” His personality, their conversations, her reactions to him made her want to be around him. Sure, when he first kissed her, she may have thought, “Why am I kissing this fill in the blank man?” But she wasn’t thinking, “I’d rather finish the movie.” It’s just that simple.
Once again, a resolution-less post. I just wanted to make the point that temptation is a must. The type and severity of temptations may vary. Whether you count your successes by how well you resist or give in is completely up to you. But if you’re not distracted with a smile on your face no one else understands, it’s probably not worth your time.
Now, picking a song about this topic could’ve been easy and relatively current but I just didn’t have the stomach for Kate Perry. So instead, I’ve included a really good song by an artist who just so happens to prefer women. Melissa Etheridge “I Want to Come Over”
My Female Type? Hmmm, that’s an interesting question. And as with most things that interest me, I had to spend way too much time exploring it. I apologize if I offend anyone with my questions or scenarios but just as I make broad assumptions about straight guys, I make generalizations of women, straight and otherwise.
Let me first say that I am a heterosexual. Not a proud one or an apologetic one, just born that way. 🙂 My physical type of man varies but would probably be tall(er than me), slender to athletic w/ dark features. I’d like to feel he’d be able to physically “protect” me from whatever. (Although, I imagine it would be difficult for me to let anyone take care of me.) Personalities aside, there’s something about attraction of security.
With these attributes in mind, I wonder if I’d uphold the same standards for a woman. Would I be interested in someone who was essentially “a big, strong man” with different parts? Would I want to assume the typical “male/dominant” role in the relationship? Yes, I know these “roles” are strongly based on some archaic heterosexual culture constructions and may not always apply in same-gender relationships. But there still seems to be a dominant personality in any relationships, regardless of the gender, size, occupation, or the like.
Moving on the the physical, I have enough insecurities and issues related to comparing my body to other women. Would it be better or worse with a girlfriend? Would I want to be with someone traditionally prettier than me with bigger breasts and smaller thighs? Or would a less feminine woman catch my attention? Could I be jealous of the way my girlfriend looks? Sure, I could feel self-conscious around a really physical fit or Adonis-like man but I couldn’t exactly strive to look like him so it wouldn’t be as bad, I imagine. I know, as with straight couples, the initial attraction is fleeting because it’s all about the chemistry. Blah, blah, blah. But I’m more intrigued by what would attract me in the first place.
I have no answers for these questions. I was just asked and thought I’d explore here. I think the fact that I’m not in the least bit attracted to women and so easily distracted by fine male specimens makes it difficult to dive any deeper. Women are beautiful and deserve to be cherished. I’m just not the one to do it.
Angelina or Brad? Angelina’s gorgeous but it’ll have to be Brad all the way….
In my current unemployed daze, I started cleaning my room and came across a photo of myself and 7 of my 8 roommates from my semester in Florence (Firenze), Italy 4 years ago. Yes, I had 8 roommates in one not-large apartment with 5 bedrooms. Luckily (or not surprisingly), I was the only person that had their own room. I got there first, it was the only one ready, I offered to switch but no one took me up on it…
Of course, I took this photo as a perfect reason to stop whatever I was doing and reminisce. I’m unemployed. I should just live the middle-class, uninspired, quarterlife-crisis happening American’s dream and backpack around Europe (again). But being pragmatic and a month and a half away from absolutely broke, I didn’t linger on this fantasy very long. However, I did try to remember what it was like to live in Florence, the sounds, the smells, the foods, the people, the school, the market, the mosquito nets…
Aside from the expected culture shock and complete lack of disposable income, I had a great time. In the most cliche way, that semester made me feel like I could be a grown up and I started to toy with the idea of being able to really do this, really living abroad. Pack up and become more concerned with a passport than a state driver’s licence. I liked just being classified as an American, not as black, or middle class, or a Southerner, or the product of a broken marriage, or a preacher’s kid, or whatever social constructions I use to identify myself at any given time. Of course those things would still matter, but I now how had this larger title AMERICAN to identify and/or argue with.
However, I had another title that I wasn’t prepared for. So growing up in the US, Tennessee and going to school in Iowa, I’ve never been the ideal of beauty. Real beauty is petite, buxom and blonde. Real beauty has blue or green eyes, gets curly perms and pays to tan. Real beauty looked like Britney, not Beyonce. Not to go too extreme, the US is a melting pot and values melting pot beauty but if we were to identify one true ideal for the nation as a whole it would not have an excess of melanin. It’s just the truth.
I happened to room with 4 wonderful, very different looking and acting white women from Iowa State. I respect these women and hate to reduce them to physical descriptions but it’s necessary to make my point. We had a short, cutsy sorority girl, an athletic, artsy blond, a shorter, fuller diva and a commanding, self-assured amazon. And then there was me, I guess I’d describe myself as a tall, sassy black girl. We were nearly as different as possible.
In Iowa (or just about anywhere else in US), I would not have been the 1st, 2nd or even 3rd person someone would look at in our group. However, in Florence, to my surprise (and that of some of my roommates…), I was often the object of attention. How odd it was to be walking to class through the market and hear “Brown Sugar, Can I love you?” in a thick Italian accent. Well of course you can’t but thanks. 🙂 Cat calls were strange to me. At home, it only seemed to be dirty old men I could easily dismiss. Here, not so much. It seems that brown was exotic in Florence. Blondes were typical. Every American, British and Australian exchange student looked like my roommates. Italy gave me a little ego boost. 🙂 And to make things even better, I didn’t look my best. Here I was getting more attention than ever before and I didn’t have access to a hairdresser or my entire wardrobe. Who knew?
And I have to give it the Italian men. They were not shy but they were also not all that annoying. Yes, I definitely heard some things that would make a less brown person blush and some of the guys would follow you around. But unlike at home, once they got the message that it wasn’t going to go anywhere, rather than get pissed or hurt, they simply turned in one direction or another in search of the next female. You don’t want me? Ok. She might. And I’m off…
I also have to note that there were quite a few male African immigrants out during the day. At any tourist spot, you’d find men selling random knock offs on sheets for easy pick up. I later found out that there were quite a few African immigrant women as well. It just so happens that they are the popular choice for prostitution. I can’t say for sure if this is true but my sources led me to believe that Italian men had no problem paying for a little brown sugar and in fact, preferred it. Supporting that remark, I was visiting a friend, my wife actually, in Rome and as I was walking back to the hostel, four cars pulled over to ask how much. It’s important to understand that I was in a hoody, jeans and tennis shoes. Rather than be offended, all I could do was think how our “girls” are being played in the states. Of course, I didn’t but I could’ve gotten some business in comfortable clothes while they’re suffering in spandex, stilettos and fishnets…
Anyway, the whole point of this story was the fact that I had to get out of the country to recognize my melting pot attraction, whether I was the one leading myself to believe it didn’t exist or not. I’m not saying that I’m horrendous and doomed to live with 14 cats because my looks are so offensive. It’s just that growing up I was brown, lanky, only developed the one curve I have in college and always had cute(r) friends. A semester in Florence gave me a little more confidence and the ability to possibly see myself as being a little more, if not one of the “cute friends”, at least not “the ugly one.”
Note: This post is not an open invitation or a vain attempt to get people I know to argue with me about how cute or not cute I may be. It’s simply a place to vent. Beautiful people suck sometimes. And the sad part, it usually has nothing to do with them. It’s all about the attention they receive. Positive attention is nice and if you’re not receiving it, you either wonder if it’s because of you or “them”. It’s always easier to blame them. 🙂
What do you do when you know your friend is cuter than you? And I don’t mean “oh, they have beautiful hair but you have clear skin.” I mean when you know you’re the ugly friend (in comparison). What’s supposed to go through your mind when you go out and you’ve accepted you’ll only get the attention after your friend passes on that guy’s advances? When every group picture makes you want to seek out an uglier friend to go out with?
Ok, so maybe it’s not that extreme but I’ve always had beautiful friends. Now I’ve had and currently have some ladies friends that may be on the other side of the spectrum but for the most part, the ladies I spend most of my time with are quite attractive. As I’ve said before, I consider myself to be pleasantly average with the occasional hot moment. How do you compete with naturally gorgeous? I need my hair in its place, my makeup on point and the right outfit to pull it off. Should I even be worried about competing?
Considering male attraction, should it even be an issue? The guys that look at my friends are obviously not interested in me. Should I be jealous? Or should I just accept that I don’t fit their physical type? Would it even matter if it happened to be one of my hot nights? Shouldn’t I be worried about guys I can talk to, laugh with?
Well of course. But who thinks that when they’re out at night and not being approached the same way a friend is? Or when it’s obvious you’ve been set up with the short, fat decoy so the two attractive people can flirt? Yes, it’s frustrating but it happens. What can you do? I actually like the people my beautiful friends are. I’ll just have to accept their physical assets and bask in their glory whenever possible. Maybe some of it will rub off. But if it doesn’t, I’ve accepted my role as the smart ass friend. I don’t imagine that quality fading with time or being affected by gravity.
The Truth: According to Jo'van 