Even in Kyoto

Already this has been an unexpected, eventful weekend.

( lengthy, but a recounting worthy of remembrance )

I'm in the middle of reading Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Woman, by Susan Faludi. Faludi is writing about the mid-'80's, a time period when she sees an anti-feminism backlash in progress.

I feel like I have been mired down in the middle of this book for months, especially now that I want to read Dennett's new book and Pollan's new book. I have to see this book through before I can move on. It's all I can do just to hold on to the book I'm reading.

Anyway, I just finished reading the chapter on plastic surgery, which apparently underwent major growth as an industry during the '80's. The book tells the story of a thirty-year-old woman who thought she could use plastic surgery as part of a publicity stunt to improve herself and get a man. But after she underwent breast augmentation, she was faced with a double standard; she wasn't good enough because she looked old. But since she used plastic surgery to enhance her appearance and look younger, she was "damaged goods."

I was reminded of the TV show The Swan, in which participants undergo an extensive self-renovation process that involves plastic surgery, counseling, and an intense personal training regime. For some reason, I was fascinated yet horrified by the show, and watched quite a few episodes. I learned what it looks like when a person has collagen injected into her face; what it looks like when she is given a face lift and a tummy tuck. Basically, I learned how to spot a fake.

Basically, I'm just fundamentally disturbed by this aspect of our society's relationship with beauty. I don't see beauty as something that a person can really alter that much, and it obviously does not reflect one's character.