On Fashion, Makeup, And Feminism...Again.

A few days ago, I wrote a post stating my intent to cease blogging and yet here I am today, compelled once more to write. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days about my Best Defense post, and I've come to some conclusions that I'd like to share.

I've fallen down a bit of a rabbit hole in regards to feminism of late. It's easy to do, what with the plethora of information about any topic imaginable available at your fingertips 24 hours a day. I'd been reading like crazy -- some of it uplifting, some depressing, lots of it downright frightening -- and while I believe it is important to stay informed about the issues one cares about, I also believe it is possible to hit a point of over-saturation. When this happens to me, it creates a sort of tunnel vision that distorts the big picture and causes me to become confused about how I really feel. It can also be kind of a drag and a real drain on my emotional well-being.

Yes, I was obsessed with fashion growing up. Yes, I was also incredibly insecure. Yes, I do believe there is a link between the two. As a teenager trying to figure out how she fits into the world, it can't be helpful to the self-esteem to constantly stare at the faces and bodies of the most beautiful women in the world, particularly when their beauty has been "enhanced" by lighting and makeup, clever pinning of clothing, and of course, Photoshop. I wanted desperately to live up to those images, but knew that I never could. There's a certain amount of insecurity that just comes with being a teenager, it's part of the deal, if you will. But I definitely wasn't doing myself any favors with my model obsession.

But what I realized the other day after extensive correspondence with my best friend (slash therapist slash Restorer of my Sanity) is that my own experimentations with fashion in high school were, in a lot of ways, a boost to my self-esteem. I was terribly shy as a teenager. And I mean bona fide social anxiety shy. Profuse sweating, increased heart rate, crippling nervousness: these were things I experienced on a daily basis. Clothing gave me an outlet for expressing myself without having to say a word. And I used that outlet to the fullest extent possible, dressing myself in ensembles that were unique, provocative, silly, and strange. It amuses me now to imagine what my parents must have thought of some of the clothing combinations I put together, but I am forever grateful that they allowed me to express myself in this way. As a shy, insecure teenager trying to define herself, in a lot of ways, fashion was a life-saver. What if, instead, I had turned to drugs and alcohol as a way to cope with my shyness? My life may have turned out far differently than it has.

(Actually, as I wrote that last sentence, it occurred to me that my eventual move towards more conventional/trendy clothing and my eventual experimentation with drugs and alcohol happened simultaneously, when I went away to college. Interesting.)

My relationship with fashion and makeup has changed considerably over the years, especially since becoming a mother, and particularly since the birth of my daughter. As I wrote about in Best Defense, I've been working on becoming more comfortable with the face I was given, sans makeup. I still believe this to be a healthy endeavor and I feel good about continuing that process, but I'm also starting to realize that I'm being too hard on myself. I like to wear makeup sometimes! It's not like every time I put it on I'm staring into the mirror hating myself. On the contrary, it often feels like a much-needed dose of self-pampering! And I enjoy piecing together a sharp little outfit for a lunch date with the hubby or a night out with the ladies. It makes me feel good and, gosh darnit, I really don't think there's anything wrong with that! Does it define me as a person? No. Is it frivolous? Sure, but who the hell cares?! People do all sorts of frivolous things for pleasure. It's called entertainment. And in a world that is, in a lot of ways sad and scary, a little bit of fun and entertainment is not only okay, it's necessary.

Feminism is about equal representation, equal opportunity, and equal rights. It is not about making yourself feel guilty for deriving pleasure from something as frivolous as fashion. And anyone who believes you can't be a feminist and still love fashion has a very narrow view of the world, in my humble opinion. (Thank you, Keri, for helping me to remember that about myself.)

When I think of the type of person I want to be, for myself and as a model for my children, I think of someone who cares passionately about what is happening in the world; someone who does their best to make the world a better place; someone who doesn't necessarily need to talk about their morals and ethics but does their best to live by them; someone who is kind and loyal and free; someone who makes mistakes and learns from them; and, perhaps above all, someone who chooses to live joyfully, to laugh wildly and often, to love with abandon, and find pleasure in the little things.

It is important to me to continue to learn and grow, but if I beat myself up or allow myself to succumb to The Heavy, I am robbing myself of potential love and joy. Without those things, well, I really don't see much point to living at all.

Silence Is Golden

I've decided to stop blogging. Whatever positives I believe to gain from the practice, I have decided that they are far outweighed by the negatives. With the obsessive planning of posts that is a constant in my head, the writing of the posts that often keeps me up far too late at night, the odd combination of elation and embarrassment I feel when praised for what I write, the frustration and isolation I feel when my writing is misinterpreted or challenged, the discomfort I have with the inherent narcissism of it all ... I've finally come to the realization that blogging is simply taking up far too much of my time and mental space. I may be back someday, but right now, it just isn't working.

To be quite frank, I'm just plain tired of listening to myself.

"And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness." --T.S. Eliot

"Because in the school of the Spirit man learns wisdom through humility, knowledge by forgetting, how to speak by silence, how to live by dying." --Johannes Tauler

Thank you to all who have read and commented over the past couple of years.
And now I'm off to be present in my life once more. Peace!

The Best Defense Is A Good Offense

We use creams and powders to even out our skin tone and then, realizing we look washed out, attempt to add back color using bronzers and blushes. We use colored powders and pencils and pens to decorate our eyes; crayons and waxes and sticky gloss to accentuate our lips. We coat our eyelashes with black goo. We smother our skin with potions to make it softer, smoother, darker, lighter, aromatic, youthful. We use creams and waxes, tweezers and razors to rid our bodies of hair. Except for the hair on our heads, which we wash and condition and blow dry and brush, curl or straighten, lighten or darken, tease high or tame. We paint colored enamel on our fingers and toes. We get boob jobs and butt jobs, face lifts and tummy tucks. Botox and collagen and makeup tattooed. We starve ourselves. We gorge ourselves. We make ourselves throw up. We obsess about our weight, our skin, and what we're going to wear. We pick ourselves apart and, far too often, we tear each other down.

Why?

This is me. I'm 17 years old. I'm the one on the right, with the halfway grown out home dye job, black. (Next to me is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world, my younger sister, Maggie.) We're standing in the doorway of my bedroom at the time. As you can see, the walls were plastered with photos clipped from magazines, mostly models, mostly women. (Except for my closet doors, which were reserved for the likes of Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Kurt Cobain, and Chris Cornell.) I was obsessed with fashion magazines: TEEN, Seventeen, YM, Vogue, Marie Claire, Mademoiselle, I read them all, and more. I pored over their glossy pages, imitating the poses and postures and facial expressions of the models, gleaning inspiration from the clothing they wore. I spent hours painstakingly cutting my favorite photos to make collages on paper, or my walls, hundreds of beautiful models staring down at me. Surrounded by beauty. I felt it was a hobby. I loved fashion! Fashion was self-expression! Fashion was art! But I was not happy. I was terribly insecure. I picked myself apart and never felt good enough. I was lonely, despite my close network of friends and family. I was depressed. I hid behind clothes. I focused on being pretty in public and wrote angst-ridden poetry in private. I craved attention, and was scared of it at the same time.

I would be foolish to believe that popular culture and my own self-loathing had nothing to do with one another.

And this was in the 90s! Sure, there were fashion magazines and MTV, but come on, the raciest thing on TV was 90210! The internet didn't exist, at least not in the way that it does today, and nobody had cell phones, let alone smart phones. It terrifies and saddens me to think of what teenagers have to contend with today. They are assaulted by the media constantly -- we all are, but our children's brains are still developing in the midst of this. Whether we like it or not, the media plays an enormous role in the raising of our children, and I don't agree one bit with the majority of the messages they're sending. Both men and women are portrayed in severely limiting ways and, through advertising, we are all told that we are inadequate as we are and that we require a seemingly endless number of products to improve ourselves.

The thought of raising my children in this cultural environment quite frankly scares the shit out of me. My children are still young; Evan is five and Elinor only 3. But children have a way of growing up too quickly and before I know it, they'll be out in the world, spending far more time at school, asleep, or with their friends than they do with their father and me. If I want to help my children become confident, secure adults, capable of navigating this crazy ass world, I need to lay the groundwork now. Stephen and I are very judicious about the media we expose our children to, but it's impossible to shelter children forever. As we get older, we spend less and less time with our parents, it's only natural. I won't always have a say in what TV shows my children watch, which games they play, the music that they listen to, certainly not in the way I do now. 

And I don't WANT to! I WANT my children to grow up! I WANT them to become independent! I just want them to know how to do it wisely. I especially want them to know how to do it more wisely than I did.

Will I be able to accomplish this goal? I have no idea. But I'm sure as hell gonna try.

I read a great article recently about a conversation between the author and her 13-year-old daughter regarding whether the daughter would be allowed to wear makeup. (I just read it again and, gosh, it's so great, I really recommend checking it out.) I could just picture myself there, having the same conversation with Elinor, a short ten years from now. (Who am I kidding? Probably sooner.) Except, the author of that article seems to have a fairly healthy adult relationship with makeup. "When I wear makeup, I am choosing to go along with the general idea of how women should present themselves," she says. Sometimes she wears it, sometimes she doesn't. It's always a choice, she doesn't feel bound to it. 

Not every woman feels that way.

It's not that I think makeup in and of itself is harmful and destructive. What CAN be harmful and destructive is our relationship with makeup. How many women out there wear makeup every single day? How many women feel that they are "ugly" without it (or, at the very least, more attractive with it)? How many women feel embarrassed and anxious leaving the house without it? How many women would we barely recognize with a bare face?

I was that woman who couldn't leave the house without makeup. Even for a simple errand, going to the grocery store, or picking my son up from preschool, I had to at least have a little. Some concealer or powder to even my skin, some blush to perk me up. Brush the brows, mascara the lashes, touch o' color on the lips. It made me feel that I was presentable. It made me feel like I would be considered acceptable in the eyes of the world. 

As if my own natural attributes were not enough to even be considered 'acceptable.' What a sad, sad frame of mind to live in.

I finally decided that I had to change. I knew my relationship with makeup was unhealthy. I did not like what I was modeling to my daughter, the idea that a woman cannot leave the house without her "face" on. I was completely uncomfortable with the prospect of her questioning the inconsistencies between my words and my actions; I didn't want to have to make excuses to her. I decided that a much better option was to work on changing my own behaviors so that they are more in line with my values. 

I am happy to say that I am making progress! I no longer wear makeup every day and I even leave the house without it on a regular basis. The first couple of times, I actually had to force myself. Like, Okay, Self, you can do this! You NEED to do this. Consider it a challenge! You love challenges! DO IT. But now I am at the point that it feels pretty normal. I am now downright used to seeing my bare face in the rear view mirror; it no longer startles me. Sometimes, I even think it looks pretty.

(I have also decided to no longer color my hair. I'm liking my natural color these days, even with the grays that are popping up with greater frequency. And I am exploring my relationship with fashion and my over-consumption of the industry's products through my used clothing challenge. So far, I'm learning a lot.)

I don't know that I'll ever get to the point of foregoing makeup altogether. There are some days, the really tired/stressed out/PMS days, where a little bit of makeup (and some coffee) are all I need to feel like I can face the world. And I can't see myself dressing up for date night, or even book club, without some makeup on my face any time soon. But it is important to me to get to a place where I no longer rely on makeup. It is important to me to get to a place where I genuinely believe about myself what I believe about my children: that they are exquisitely beautiful and positively perfect, just the way they are. Because I am. We all are.

I'm not there yet. I still have a looooong way to go. But my hope is that, as she grows older, my daughter will see that I am trying, and respect me for it. I hope that she will see the value of the journey I'm on. I hope that through my actions, as well as my words, I can inspire her to question the status quo and to value herself as a whole person, rather than just a pretty face. As I see it, that is the best defense I have against a world that is doing all it can to make her believe otherwise.

Did you know?

If everyone went vegetarian for just one day, the U.S. would save:

• 100 billion gallons of water, enough to supply all the homes in New England for almost 4 months;
• 1.5 billion pounds of crops otherwise fed to livestock, enough to feed the state of New Mexico for more than a year;
• 70 million gallons of gas -- enough to fuel all the cars of Canada and Mexico combined with plenty to spare;
• 3 million acres of land, an area more than twice the size of Delaware;
• 33 tons of antibiotics.*

Amazing, isn't it? Together, we have so much power; we need only make the decision to use it. So try going meatless on this Monday and, instead of feeling deprived, allow yourself to feel empowered. You can (and do!) make a difference!

Eat your veggies! :)

*Statistics taken from Kathy Freston's The Daily Lean, which you can subscribe to here.

Sunday Evening Ponderables

Human mind on its highest level is

universal mind. As universal mind, it is

pure, tranquil, unconditioned, in its

true essential nature, but because of its

relations with the lower minds it

becomes the storage for their reactions.

~ Excerpt from Sayings and Tales of Zen Buddhism: Reflections for Every Day by William Wray

What popular music needs right now...

...is more men like this:

"I want to say a little something
that's long overdue/
The disrespect to women
has got to be through/
To all the mothers and sisters
and the wives and friends/
I want to offer my love and respect to the end."

- Adam Yauch, aka MCA of the Beastie Boys

Yauch, with his daughter Tenzin Losel

"I think every person has the ability to effect change... Every one of us affects the world constantly through our actions... through our every thought, our every word, the way that we interact with other people we're constantly affecting the world."

- Adam Yauch

1964 - 2012

RIP, MCA. You have my love and respect, always.

Eco Tip Tuesday: Deciphering Food Labels

Have you ever looked at the packaging on the food you buy, seen labels such as the ones shown above, and wondered what it is exactly that they mean? How much of it is based in truth, and how much of it was simply created by clever advertising executives as a way to get you to buy the product? Of the nine labels shown above, only one is based on fact and backed by government regulation. The rest? Well, while there may be some truth to the claims, for the most part, the labels are not there to educate us. They exist solely to manipulate us into thinking we're buying a healthy product. So, the question is, how does one sort through the BS when there is just so damn much of it? Eco Tip Tuesday to the rescue! (And actually on a Tuesday this time!) Here is a short list of the labels I pay attention to when shopping for food:

Fair Trade: This label indicates that the farmers and farm workers have been paid a fair price for the food (or goods) they produce, are vested in their farms, and can deal directly with importers and not unnecessary middlemen. Common foods with this label: bananas, coffee, tea, cocoa.

Non-GMO: Indicates the fact that ingredients or whole products do not contain genetically modified organisms, which are created in a laboratory through the process of taking genes from one species and inserting them into another. Always choose corn, soy foods, and canola oil that are non-GMO. According to current standards, if something is labeled organic, it is non-GMO. So, if you can't find the above label, you're also safe from GMO if you see this label:

Organic: Grown without the use of conventional non-organic pesticides, insecticides, and herbicides, though certain non-organic fertilizers are still used. Keep in mind that in animal products, "organic" reflects the absence of hormones and antibiotics in the feed of the animals. It says nothing about how the animals are treated or slaughtered. Also keep in mind that small farms that sell their products at farmer's markets typically will not be Certified USDA Organic. Unfortunately, the process for getting certified involves a lot of jumping through hoops and a lot of money. Small farmers often simply can't afford it. Meanwhile, Big Ag is given huge government subsidies to produce meat, dairy, and genetically modified corn and soy. It's tragic, really. Anyway, the lack of certification doesn't necessarily mean that the small farms aren't employing organic, holistic farming methods. It just means you have to talk to them about it. So, if you shop at farmer's markets, get to know the people who grow the food.

A side note on organics: I know that a lot of people are turned off to buying organic foods because they are so much more expensive than the conventional variety. I find it helpful to know which fruits and vegetables are the most highly sprayed so that I can make the best choices for my family, taking our health and our budget into consideration. The Environmental Working Group created a list of twelve fruits and vegetables that are so highly sprayed with toxic chemicals that many experts recommend eating them only when they're organic. Deemed the "Dirty Dozen," the list includes:

• Apples
• Celery
• Strawberries
• Peaches
• Spinach
• Nectarines, imported
• Grapes, imported
• Sweet bell peppers
• Potatoes
• Blueberries, domestic
• Lettuce
• Kale/collard greens

One more side note on organics: if you're shopping for produce at the grocery store and are having trouble deciphering whether something is organic or not, check the PLU codes on those teeny-tiny little stickers. If it's a five-digit code starting with 9, it's organic. If it's a four-digit code, it's not.

So, as you can see, a select few food labels have important meaning, many have hardly any meaning at all (100% natural? How can a packaged, processed food be considered 100% natural?), and some are actually very harmful, leading well-meaning consumers to believe they are buying a product that is in line with their ethics, when they really aren't. Case in point: the ubiquitous "free-range" label applied to meat, eggs, dairy, and sometimes fish.

Jonathan Safran Foer discusses the free-range label in his excellent book Eating Animals (which I highly recommend, by the way):

To be considered free-range, chickens raised for meat must have "access to the outdoors," which, if you take those words literally, means nothing. (Imagine a shed containing thirty thousand chickens, with a small door at one end that opens to a five-by-five dirt patch -- and the door is closed all but occasionally.) 

The USDA doesn't even have a definition of free-range for laying hens and instead relies on producer testimonials to support the accuracy of these claims. Very often, the eggs of factory-farmed chickens -- chickens packed against one another in vast barren barns -- are labeled free-range. ("Cage-free" is regulated but means no more or less than what it says -- they are literally not in cages.) One can reliably assume that most "free-range" (or "cage-free") laying hens are debeaked, drugged, and cruelly slaughtered once "spent." I could keep a flock of hens under my sink and call them free-range.

The only way to know for sure that the eggs you're buying are from truly free-range chickens is to visit the farm and see it with your own eyes. That, or raise your own. Personally, I opt not to eat them at all.

We in the United States are not lacking in choices. In fact, we have so many that it can be downright overwhelming. It's disheartening to know that many of the companies that produce and sell the foods we eat do not have our best interests at heart and care only about their bottom line. Instead of sitting around complaining about that, though, we must educate ourselves and use the knowledge we gain to make choices that are best for our families and communities, for the Earth and all its inhabitants. Vote with your forks! It's one of the most powerful ways that we, as individuals, can effect change.