But why beauty at all?
I see lots of images of women’s bodies with suggestions for reframing the changes that age and childbearing can make to our bodies like stretchmarks described as tiger stripes. Each one suggests that these are beautiful. Sometimes it’s headed ‘real women’ as if there are fake ones among us.
What puzzles me though is why we need to hitch our star to the beauty wagon?
If being looked at and judged is problematic, why simply shift the parameters of looking and judging?
Why do we need to be beautiful? Why take a label that reduces us to what we look like and apply it more widely? Why can’t we do away with needing to be anything and just be? Why can’t we stop worrying about beauty and accept the body we’re in, love the feel of the body next to us whatever the number of limbs or their mobility, revel in the capacity of human bodies to breathe, eat, digest, eliminate and procreate?
Aren’t all those things the real miracles of bodies, not what the outside looks like?