Notox: Releasing Rapunzel From Blinded Consciousness

Posted by maria nazod on Wednesday, November 4, 2009
So, as most of you faithful readers know, last night, I suffered from a migraine. What this yielded was ultimately 21/2 hours sitting before the spectral blue glow of the idiot box, watching E's Top 20 Best and Worst Celebrity Plastic Surgeries. What can I say, the jacuzzi-like effect of bad TV can sometimes be relaxing, and wouldn't you know it--provokes a thought or two. Here I go...

I realize not everyone, celebrities included, did NOT attend a female-empowered school like my alma mater, Sarah Lawrence or Leslie or Smith--moreover, sadly, most of feminism dwells within the confines of the ivory tower. Well, 'tis time for Rapunzel to let down her hair and quit being so fucking sheltered. Time to emerge from her confines and quit relying on a prince to do it. The reality is, no prince will save us, unless we manage to escape the dark confines of our consciousness in an attempt to expand it. Thus far, the patriarchy's barbaric yawp resounds throughout every last facet of life, including and especially Hollywood Women. Watching this show only further confirmed this dread.

And I know what you're thinking. No shit, Maria? Hollywood, possessing a shallow chemical sheen? No way? I know, I know, I am overstating the obvious. But then again, maybe not. Maybe Rapunzel is still trapped and needs to know that key is around her neck.

What I found most disheartening about the special, was not the surgery in itself, but that the majority of the female celebs underwent heavy surgical procedures because they were so heavily criticized by the men in their lives. Rapper Lil' Kim, I was astonished to see, used to be a beautiful girl. She's a feisty and fierce rapper, but has since gone on to get so many injections of collagen and silicone she can blink her lips. Check her out now. Why? Because her old boyfriends would call her fat and every other name in the derogative book. Another women--Swedish socialite Jocelyn Wildenstein. YIKES! Look at her before picture, for goddsakes. Could she simply be a testament to who we are as women, to how we respond to the vicious assault of marketing campaigns that constantly besiege us with the message that we should look younger, more supple, more vibrant, etc. Unsurprisingly enough, Jocelyn underwent her $4 million dollars worth of surgery because her husband cheated on her. She wanted to win him back. 

According to a plastic surgeon on the show, Wildenstein's eyes, "have been lifted so much that they look somewhat feline in appearance."

Somewhat feline. SOMEWHAT FELINE????? 

She looks like an ad for Friskies, for goddsakes! She looks like she could host the Discovery Channel's Wild Cats segment. Somewhat feline?????


Ack. And then, there is old high school friend, Adrianne Curry. Oh, Adri, if you're reading this (and I think you are my Facebook friend, and so there is a hair of a chance you might be), talking about her boob job. Yes, nice boobs, Adrianne. But then there is the part where you say that your man LIKED your asymmetric breasts pre-op, saying, "It's OK honey, it's like having sex with two different women." 

COME ON, CHRIS. You seem like a fairly intelligent guy. And you mean to say she did not wallop you? Now, let me be the first to admit, I've been criticized by ex-lovers as much as the rest of us--running the gamete from weight gain to having the occasional pimple. And it took me a long time to stand up for myself. By that I don't mean yapping back at them like a wounded miniature pinscher. What I mean is being able to really call them out--without words at all. By simply sitting back, ingesting the comment, then spitting it back in their sorry face, to going on and living a healthy life.

When I was eighteen, I was in what I've learned is an emotionally abusive relationship. Some of the symptoms of emotional abuse include isolation, verbal harassment, put-downs, and his exerting extreme control. During my freshman year of college, I gained some weight (shocking, I know) putting me at 138 lbs., I was my heaviest. Not exactly elephantine, but OK....

I recall my then-lover criticizing my body, which then sent me into an obsessive body-dysmorphic frenzy for the next five years. I am not relating this story to bring it back to myself. In fact, I did not realized that I had a personal story to tell until I typed it. The point is, I survived this man. He wasn't the first and hopefully he'll be the last to dare broach the issue of criticizing my
 appearance. I sought therapy. I compulsively dieted. With anorexia in my genes, I recognized over a period of time and psychoanalysis, that I was NOT the Swamp Thing, and that I was embarking upon a dangerous path. Ironically, with this realization, the excess weight dropped off me. 


And that brings me to the sacred NOW. Watching E-TV with my feminist blood curdle, but also realizing that I've been there too--succumbing to asinine obsessions with everything wrong with me, from my saddlebags to my tiny crow's feet that acquired around my eyes in my late 20's. I suspect liberal applications of alcohol dating back to my tender early teens until the present, long stints under the Mediterranean sun and mid-American tanning bed bulbs, and sleepless NYC nights did not help. 

But, in regards to the ex, I have cleared up a lot of issues with my physical life. And yet, I turn on E and it seems that the prettier the woman, the more insecure. The more they've fucked with themselves in order to please men. And here they're showing snippets of interviews with these perfect specimens, and they're sniveling about how insecure they are, and the plastic surgeons are nodding sagely, and diagnosing what surgeries they believe said celeb underwent, and then the fashion editor of Self Magazine, goes on to say WHY these celebs look good now. 

Meanwhile, I have skin under my fingernails from digging into my palm. A part of me goes,"just say it!" Is it not SO fucking obvious? These women underwent this surgery to please their men, and the reason why they are "happy" and "secure" is bullshit, sorry Adri. And not one female critic in neither the fashion nor the plastic surgery field has the gumption to speak out any more than the men do. This type of thinking is dangerous as it is effective, which I suppose is why I used Oil of Olay on my face each night, why it is, that yes, despite these cognitive recognitions of these falsified media paradigms, I still get freaked if my weight goes past 120, why as women, we have the universally-recognized ad campaign called I'm Not Good Enough. Will it ever end? 

Moreover, what I found MOST ironic of all, was that the celebs who looked, quite frankly, the best, such as Heather Locklear and Meg Ryan, are the ones who have NOT Botoxed into oblivion. It's SO funny, because here we have the noble panel of fashion editors and plastic surgeons, assessing Meg and Heather, going on about how amazing they look, still well into their middle years. And I'm going, uh, like yes, are you like, blind???? For heaven's sakes, Heather Locklear has VISIBLE and lovely laugh lines around her eyes. She looks like a sexy, seasoned woman, not like a Walt-Disney, frozen in time, Beverly Hills science project. So does Meg. I am not so naive to think they've not had a little work done and succumbed to the scalpel-servitude along the way, but it's obvious that there's a huge component of graceful aging to their faces. And these are the beauties who outlast time's test. And they both look terrific because they made the valiant choice to leave themselves (mostly) the fuck alone. 

To quote my favorite poet, Tony Hoagland: until we say the truth, there can be no tenderness. As long as there is desire, we can never be safe. 
 


Tags: jocelynwildenstein e'sbestandworstcelebrityplasticsurgeries 

 


About Me


Maria Nazos I'm a poet, I just wrote my first book, and I believe in destiny but I sure as hell don't wait for it. Check out my blog for my random thoughts, events, and upcoming workshops.

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