We’ve all had those awful moments of realization: We have our mother’s moon face. A third-world flat nose. Our dad’s beady-little almond eyes. Sausage knees. A flat ass. Non-existent cheekbones. Five feet of tiny height. Or whatever else is wrong with us, that can be magically assessed in a highly unforgiving full-length mirror.
All of which make it very difficult to look like Gisele Bündchen, or like the Sweet Valley twins that you read about through grade school, or your Barbie dolls, or that bitchy, skinny, matchy-matchy perfect 10 that your crush, Jeff, is going out with instead of you.
In those moments, it’s so easy to daydream about how easy it could be to get just a little something done. Maybe a little eyelid snip ‘n’ pull like your friend Jenny got on her “mother-daughter trip” to Korea. Or perhaps a bit of work on your nose to help out with that deviated septum.
I must say, I was a bit taken aback, though not surprised, by the tip I received numerous times this week, all of which pointed to: Asian-Americans are more down for plastic surgery than anyone else these days.
Hey, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it, or marveled at the wonderful work I’ve seen on my newly round-eyed relatives. But it does bum me out.
When are we going to realize that we’re blazin’ hot the way we are? We don’t get old, we don’t get fat, and hey, from what I hear, white people seem to like us just the way we are. So maybe we should start liking ourselves.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.