Hello. The picture in my previous post seems to have set some people on edge. Some people have emailed me about being whitewashed and wanting to look white. They say I would, doubtless, be prettier in my natural form.
Heh. If you ask me, natural is overrated. I'm getting just a bit bored with it. Why be natural when you can be supernatural or preternatural or even celestial? No, really. That's a serious question.
I mean, do you even know what my natural form is? I used to have light ash brown hair and most people thought it was natural. Even my long-lost aunt and her boyfriend thought it was natural... my aunt seems to have me sporting light brown hair in all her memories. My classmates all thought it was natural - yes, even the asians. Right now, my hair is curly, and people just assume it's naturally like that; they don't even give it a second thought. These days, I like to keep my skin very tan and people assume it's natural (it's from a bottle).
Come on. We smudge our eyes with kohl and paint our lips with revlon and that's supposed to be natural? We put metal and plastic things on our teeth and that's natural? We give ourselves bangs and diet ourselves to zero and that's natural? We iron our hair, gym ourselves into a protein mass, moisturize our skin, de-hair our bodies... you get the picture. Natural stopped the moment someone started stuffing us with prenatal vitamins. It stopped the moment someone spread that dollop of lotion on our diaper-rashed butt. We are far far far beyond the realm of natural, if you ask me. It's human nature. We want more than the natural world can provide. That's exactly why we have imagination.
You can
look natural, of course -- and that is a pretty nice look (I'm an occasional fan of it myself) -- but it's still only a look, isn't it? If you were
truly natural, if that really was the standard of beauty... oh man. Wrinkles and age spots and scars and cellulite and bushy brows? Heaven help us. It's a beauty secret from the time of Eve. Every woman and her mother knows the number one rule is that it's ok to fake it as long as you pass. All I'm saying is passing can be so boring sometimes. And I hate getting bored.
(Actually, people have always commented me on my "naturalness" - probably because I don't wear makeup or fix my hair...)
About that other point, well, I will now categorically state that it's not about looking white. I'm not even really attracted to white people. The only "white" people I was ever really attracted to were Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp, and both had definite traces of "unwhiteness" in their genes.
Oh yes, I lived in a country with quite the post-colonial standard in beauty, there's no denying that. I'm not saying that I'm not screwed up. And it's true that my ultimate beauty ideal was the mestiza -- and in a way it still is. I was - and still am - attracted to people with some semblance of unpinoy (or un-Asian) features (a vaguely aquiline nose, the uncommon skin/hair/eye color/texture, even the fiercely independent afro, etc.) But it's not about the whiteness. It's about the
mix. I like mestizos precisely because they're vague, uncategorizable, outside of the box,
different. In fact, the exact nature of the mix doesn't matter to me. They could be half-black, half-white, half-Martian, half-dolphin for all I care.
It's just that there's something about a person who straddles multiple realities (cultures, "races", societies) that appeals to me. And when it reflects in their features, it just makes it that much more intriguing. And I'm drawn to that mystery. I'm drawn to enigmas. Not because I want to solve the puzzle, mind, but only because they have something that
seemingly wants to be solved. I'm drawn to the puzzle itself.
Yeah, I know. In a way, I guess it's a fetish, isn't it? Like I said, I'm not saying that I'm not screwed up. But, you know, if you're going to accuse me of something, well, at least get it right.
Still, if I were really to be honest with myself, at this point, I have to say that it has gone far beyond wanting to look
different. Now it's really a bit of a creative rush. It's kind of a superficial form of reinvention. I mean, so what if someone was born with black hair and blackish eyes? Who says I shouldn't play with my face? It's just a face, after all. Let's not take this too seriously. Hair can be re-dyed and color contacts come out before bed. No harm done. So why can't I look like an alien or a monster or a dead fish if I so desire? Why, why, why?
(Actually, what I want to look like is myth. Yep, myth. I want to look like a mythological creature - faires, mermaids, nymphs. Yep, all that crazy stuff.
I had blueberry hair once... I wanted to look like a water nymph, I guess. I must say though, it looked stunning on me. It was dark, but it glinted like the ocean in the sun. Sadly, colors like that never last. They wash and fade out in a week. But, ah, the memory of blueberry hair...)
I did warn you. I hold no pretensions about being right in the head.
Labels: beauty
