Glamour's list of 30 things by 30
I have an addiction to lists. I have a daily work-tasks list, often two
work lists (on super-busy days I have been known to have three), a daily
non-work task list, a beauty/health to do list, food/diet planning lists, a
life-plan list, lists of things to buy in terms of clothes, beauty products,
furniture and other things to turn the new flat I’ve moved into from a shiny
new shell to a ‘proper home’, daily lists, weekly lists, monthly lists,
seasonal lists. I haven’t got to yearly to do lists yet, but give me time.
I bookmark those listicles that seem to be ubiquitous at the
moment - you know the sort, “top 10 places to visit before you die and realise
you’ve spent 30 years in a bedsit in Streatham not venturing further than the
local Sainsbury’s”. I’m ticking my way
through the BBC 100 books to read list.
The other day my list habit got so bad that I actually made a list of
stuff to do before I left my flat for work in the morning, including things
like ‘take rubbish out’, ‘cut labels off new Primark bag’, ‘pluck eyebrows’ and
‘straighten hair’, fairly standard things that should not require a list to be
ticked off.
Now I’m sure the psychologists among you reading this are
already diagnosing things to do with a need for control, and I fully admit that
I am a control freak and pretty much always have been. Yet recently I’ve been thinking about why I
am constantly seeking control, to be on top of things, or, dare I say it,
perfection. Even as I write it the
‘p-word’ makes me uncomfortable and I know without doubt that such a thing is
impossible to achieve and a ginormous waste of effort, yet this rational part
of me doesn’t stop me writing another list with the vague, semi-conscious
notion that if I reach the end of it (and all of my other concurrent lists) I
will somehow be the person that I should be, the model of a successful
woman.
Yes, part of the reason I seem to never be satisfied with my
past achievements or my current situation might be deeply individual, a
personality trait (flaw). But I am
inclined to think that it is more than that.
Part of the drive for perfection that myself and other young women feel
is created or at least exacerbated in my view by what the media and society at
large constantly drum into us we should be/aspire to.
To give a brief precis of what the subtle drip-drip of
societal expectations tell girls on a daily basis that they should have: a thin,
tanned and toned body (no hint of cellulite please); constantly stylish
wardrobe; perfect skin and hair; academic achievements, ideally straight As at
school and preferably a First degree from a good university (preferably Russell
Group); a good job or career; intellectual knowledge but still
be a whiz at household things like cooking, home decorating and baking; an
attractive partner; a group of photogenic and cool friends with which to do
spontaneous yet trendy things of an evening and weekend.
Furthermore, you should somehow be able to fulfil all these
demands of a shallow, consumerist society while simultaneously giving off an
aura of being ‘above it all’: you should
be gorgeous, but seem more concerned about
the plight of the rainforests than the condition of your derriere. Be wealthy, but charitable. Deep, yet accessible. Fun, yet serious. Is it any wonder that women
like me are so confused by the contradictory demands on us that we resort to (multiple)
lists to keep track of everything we feel we should be doing or aiming
for?
A career in human rights: the latest style accessory?
Think of the new ‘Beautiful Humanitarian’ role models
trumpeted across the media recently, such as Lily Cole, Angelina Jolie, Amal Alamuddin
and Natalie Portman. It is not enough to
have conquered one career, you must constantly seem to be more than that,
walking a tightrope of attractiveness and earnestness at all times. More worryingly, with the rise of the “Cool
Girls” like Jennifer Lawrence and Emma Stone, you are expected to do all
things, like have an amazing figure and glowing beauty, without seeming like
you ‘try’ too much: you should just be
‘one of the lads’; never admit to being on a diet, and somehow possess a
gym-honed body whilst claiming you never set foot in one and you prefer downing
tinnies to green smoothies.
Our modern celebrity culture has always encouraged (some
might say pressured) girls and women to emulate or live up to the standards set
by those in the public eye, according to the current trends, whether these were
the perma-tanned, big-busted models of 1990s WAGs, to the serious (though always
beautiful) celebrity campaigners of today.
Many articles covering the work of individuals like Jolie - at least in
aspects of the female media - fawn over their dress sense and their figures,
and their humanitarian achievements almost seem an afterthought, so rather than
this growing awareness of social issues on the part of super-celebs diverting
your attention from how you should look or dress towards wider and more
important issues, social activism and public achievements seem to be another
thing that you will never match up to, in addition to their beauty, thinness or
wealth.
There is little advice on how the average reader can get
involved in helping with such campaigning, leaving women feeling even more
inadequate and powerless in the face of a new female ideal. “We will never be able to achieve the same
impact as her,” we think, “so what’s the point”. The concurrent rise of what I consider to be
pernicious shaming of those deemed to ‘care too much’ about living up to
imposed beauty standards: the mocking of
those having plastic surgery, the snide comments about those who are clearly
dieting to stay thin, is an even more paralysing trend for women. Now unless we are naturally blessed with a
model metabolism or TV good looks, it is seen as shallow of you to attempt to
achieve a higher standard of beauty:
unless you were born with it and can wolf down fries and a bucket of
fried chicken and still look like Jennifer Lawrence, you shouldn’t even try,
you girly, impressionable creature.
This is not to blame these celebrities themselves for the
myth or narrative that society and the media constructs around them, and I
repeat that the examples of someone relaxed enough to eat a burger or
campaigning against sexual violence rather than posing suggestively in men’s
magazines, are 100% preferable to the alternatives.
At one end of the crazy scale, the point of celebrity
ambassadors is to raise the profile of certain social issues, while at the
other end women like Alamuddin are intelligent, accomplished women excelling in
chosen careers, who fall into the public spotlight, not by design but as a
consequence of private relationships. Yet
in both cases, the media presents either a genuine interest in supporting a
particular campaign and a career not as just two things that human beings do,
but almost as if both are akin to fashion accessories, a ticked box on the way
to being an ‘ideal woman’.
MSN reports on Jolie's attendance at the End Sexual Violence Summit
In my opinion, a way of cutting through such problematic
reporting and obfuscation of the real issues would be if celebrities - even
more than they do now - pushed back against the myths that journalists seek to
construct around them to connect with the average women, and reveal that behind
the supposed perfection is just another flawed human being doing the best that
they can. Jolie did this very admirably
in an interview a little while ago: when
asked how she managed to combine her intense workload, campaigning and looking
after her ‘beautiful family’, she didn’t brush off the question with a vague
truism about multi-tasking or having angelic children, she quietly said that
she was lucky and privileged enough to be in a position to afford a lot of help
and support with both her work and her family, firmly shutting off the
journalist’s implication that she was some kind of superhuman. Now if Jennifer Lawrence could make it clear(er)
that she doesn’t exist solely off French fries and does actually exercise and
take care of herself to look as good as she does, or celebrities reach out more
in terms of how ordinary people can get actively involved in the causes they champion,
we could all realise that we are not competing for some amorphous notion of
female perfection for which the goalposts are constantly changing, but that we
are all in this together, to support each other in our individuality and faults.
And if Angelina were to admit that she too uses lists to
keep track of her busy world, my life would be made.
NS
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