Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Pretty Woman

Being a pretty woman is a full time profession.No, I don't mean the model/actress variety. But, the every day variety who makes men go weak on their knees or somewhere else and who make women wonder which plastic surgery or life jeopardising slimming pill she is taking.

Pretty much most women can enter the profession of looking beautiful. You need detailed food intake plans [oranges are good for skin, avacado for hair and no pastries or any thing tasty etc etc], bone ache inducing exercising plans and a small fortune to spend in beauty parlours where they uproot your body hair and subject you to similar torture methods in return for a fat some of money. In addition, you can spend every waking hour worrying about whether your hair is out of place or the large glass of water which you just had makes your tummy bulge in that skin tight suit[ Of course shopping for the right skin tight suit is as difficult as looking for the gold which your great grandma hid in the garden for future generations]. Do not forget to smile through the whole process and make it look like it is all very normal.

It takes guts to be a woman like that. Not to mention having a good career in banking/media or wherever in addition to the excruciating profession of looking beautiful. Most women do not feel that they are superhuman enough to put out the show on an everyday basis. So we reserve it for special occasions like a friends' wedding or a date or when nothing in life seem to go right. The longest it can last is when you have  found new love till it turns sour like every other pickle in the market.

Shows like 'Sex and the City' sometimes scare the hell out of me. One would think that by the time you hit 40-s or 50-s you can take semi retirement from the business of looking beautiful. But, hell NOOO. You are supposed to look sexy and have a trim figure and a flawless skin [pray hard to the botox god]. If not, how will you attract a man. Isn't that the end of every female enterprise? How much ever insane it might seem to attract the predator species even in such an advanced age. Growing old is no longer a calmer span where you are more sure of yourself and give a fuck for the world, let alone a man. That was how the women of my granny's age went old [at least in the part of the world I come from]. But, such luxuries are no more there for us. The price of liberation which was bestowed by benevolent multinational gods.

So, the way ahead lies in tweezing, scrubbing and breaking your bones in exercise machines and surviving on a the diet of a famine hit person. You could one day be rewarded with beauty

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