Chicken Soup for the Beauty Concious

Have any of you ever seen the programme “The Swan” on TV? Granted it’s kinda old. It wrapped in the US in 2005 in its second series. Back in those days, the first series aired on TV3 and I followed it avidly.

Recently, it’s been on repeat on Sky everyday at half one. I stumbled across it on a break from college the other day and I was horrified by it. I’m not usually one for pontificating but hell, this thing struck a nerve with me. The title itself harps back to the “ugly duckling”, something that’s not exactly flattering. The premise was that 16 ugly women (yes, ugly!) would undergo drastic plastic surgery and metamorphoses into the eponymous swan.

The thing is, most of the women were by no means ugly. Some had big noses, crooked teeth, were “cuddly” or had more facial hair than an old man. That last one might be an exaggeration. Their family spoke candidly on camera with one less than pretty husband actually calling his perfectly average wife ugly. Charming. He should write a book: ‘how to save a marriage for dummies’.

Anywho, the women underwent drastic plastic surgery. Every tiny bit of fat was sucked, every crooked tooth replaced, every spot zapped til every woman was “perfect”. Thousands of dollars of plastic surgery was spent on each woman in their quest for so-called perfection.

Despite the sentiment, there was something inherently wrong with this programme. The women were merely shown for their new-found beauty. Hell, they didn’t even look like real people anymore, with shiny teeth and impossibly perfect features. Funnily enough, one poor woman got veneers that were way too big and kinda looked like a horse.

To further hit home a message of moral craziness, each woman was pitted against another contestant once they were transformed. Only one would progress through to the semi-final. Anyone else see something wrong with this? Two women with criminally low self-esteem undergo huge plastic surgery, are pitted against each other, but one of them is still told they’re not good enough? What the fuck?

The winners of each individual round then advanced to a semi-final where they posed in their knickers, bikinis and fancy dresses. They had to talk too but this usually resulted in crying and slathering the judges’ arses in a mighty dose of arse licking. (Sometimes I think I’m rather cynical…)

Here’s the finalists. See if you can spot poor Horse Teeth:

Now, look at the original women. They’re not UGLY! Sure, they could do with a bit of sprucing up – a little make-up and less frumpy clothes and they’d all look great. The extent to which their transformation went was just ridiculous. They all look fake. If I was a dude, I wouldn’t crack onto any of them – well, maybe the blonde one in the middle.

Anyway, maybe it’s just me but these women aren’t perfect. Is there even such a thing? Perfection is something to strive for but never something to achieve. There’s no such thing. Anyone could look at them and still find fault. I’m no one’s version of pretty, nor will I ever be, but I’m cool with that. I’d never undergo such crazy plastic surgery!

To a degree, we’re all shallow. Everyone of us, despite how much we plead otherwise. I just like to think that there are many people who don’t let this shallowness usurp them.

The thing is, there’s beauty in imperfection – the little quirks in a person that makes them unique. Whether it’s their ginger hair (JOKE!)… Nah, look there’s no point pretending we’re not a society driven by looks or that looks don’t matter. Hell, I’ve turned down dudes because they weren’t good-looking, but, at the same time, they didn’t exactly have personalities that drew me to them, y’know.

I just think these women should’ve sought psychological help if they were THAT desperate to be beautiful. Hell, I bet they all still have insecurities, even the eventual winner. I bet they still look in the mirror and have bad days. Every human does, even those ridiculously hot celebrities. Hell, especially those really hot celebrities who are scrutinised to the point of utter despair!

There’s no such thing as perfection.

‘Nuff said. Shall I get off my soapbox now?

And, hell, let’s all remember one important tip: beauty is in the eyes of the beerholder! The moral of the story: if we get them drunk enough, they won’t kick us out of bed. Sweet…

I kid, I kid!

Peace, love and Potter,

Lisa.

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