A recent furor erupted because some Brit penned an article about how beautiful women are the most reviled of all women. Basically, she's trotting out the old Rula Lenska line, Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.
Well.
In the first place, judging by the picture that accompanied the article isn't the most flattering. Perhaps the real life version of the author is better than the virtual one. But that's quibbling. The real point is that beautiful people, whether they be men or women, are more often than not granted more favors by many people instead of being reviled. Envied? To be sure. But reviled? Doubtful.
Being someone that GQ has never pursued for the cover of its magazine nor who has had to beat persons of the opposite sex off, I know what being reviled for my appearance is all about. It means being taken less seriously, not being regarded as worthy. This notion of beautiful people being hated or thought less of is a joke. Sure, there is plenty of envy. Sometimes that metatastizes into hatred, but on average, beautiful people are given so many more unearned benefits and advantages simply because they own the chromosome lottery.
In point of fact, I bend over backwards to treat people not obviously beautiful in a physical way with more kindness. When there's an overweight woman on a train, I'll give up my seat. I'll hold the door open for the less fortunate women simply because I know that other men will disdain her. Sure, I'll hold the door open for beautiful women, but I also hold it open for men in their sixties. This notion that looks entitle a person to better treatment chafes, because I have years of memories of being shortchanged because I'm not one of the beautiful people.
Forgive the rant, but when someone goes out of her way to complain about how her putative beauty marks her for ill-treatment, I scoff.
(c) 2012 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
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