tabula rasa

 

 

 

 

I am standing in the Lobby Shop with two girls. They are stick-thin, stick-straight, and sticking to the magazine section. "Look," says one, holding a Maxim to her chest like a shirt she wants to buy. "I'm getting this body by Christmas." She taps the bikini-girl cover with a fingernail.

"How?" asks her friend.

"Whatever," replies the girl, reaching for a Volvic. "It's called salad and water."

I know what's coming. The girls turn to leave, and walk past me. They look down at my Reefs. They look up at my body. They finish with my face, and then they briefly look away before they go.

"It happens every time," I sigh to my hallmate at Starbucks. She smiles across her coffee cop and shrugs. "Come on," she says. "If guys checked me out as often as girls did, I would have a date for every day." I know she's right--nothing on campus is as rampant, and as totally ignored, as the Girl Glare. They happen by the Stairmasters in Wilson, on line in Alpine, and while riding the East/ West to class. Girl Glares happen all the time, and whether we know it or not, they make us weaker with each passing glower.

"Oh please," grins a friend in theater class. "You like to stare as much as the rest of us!" A pretty girl with a Birkin bag walks in, and we fall silent. "I don't stare," I insist. "And that bag is so last season." As my friend laughs, I walk away; guilty as charged.

So why do we glare? Maybe it's just curiosity. Duke is full of diverse people, and a lot of them are really styling. At its most innocent, checking out our fellow peers is a chance to get informed and inspired. At its worst, however, the Girl Glare means something totally different. By assessing our peers one stare at a time, we can try and affirm our own worth. How often have we glanced at someone and fleetingly thought, "I'm thinner than her," or "Wow, her pants are way too tight"?

Then there are times when Girl Glares go wrong. I almost cried today on the bus when I saw a young woman with everything down-perfect outfit, flawless hairstyle, gorgeous body. Instead of being psyched about the new Marc Jacobs jeans I was wearing, I sat in the back and felt sorry for my size-six self. Ridiculous? Of course. Disgusting? Yeah, I think so too. But it happens every day, and not just to me.

Girl Glares are a quick fix. They don't really make us stronger, and they turn us into bitches that we don't need to be. Salads and water aren't the solution. As soon as one thing gets fixed, you'll find something else that's too ugly, too pretty, too big or too small.

I wish that the answer to happiness were as attainable as a flat stomach or an expensive purse. But after years of diets and Louis Vuitton splurges, I know it's just not true. I also know that "beauty" has a million definitions.

It's our job, as women and as peers, to find one-in-a-million beauty that defines us. Maybe then, we'll finally be able to stare at ourselves.

How hard is it to be contented with life?

 

Very very hard.

 

Happy 2009.

 

1. get priorities right.

2. less shouting more loving at home.

3. always on time. sigh. i dont wanna say sorry im late anymore.

4. grow up.

5. start dancing again.

6. make time for self.

7. sleep earlier stay healthier.

8. think more dream less.

9. happy 2009.