Traits traditionally associated with privilege are likely immutable and intrinsic to one’s identity—sex, race, sexuality, etc. However, "pretty privilege" stands apart from these aspects as it is something that individuals are empowered to change. While we are taught to accept our identities, we are synonymously taught to reject our bodies, faces, and features that do not align with Eurocentric beauty standards. Perhaps the first step to dismantling "pretty privilege" is to stop (literally) buying into it.
One thing that is critical to understand about me is that I grew up in an all girls' boarding school where I could go months without talking or so much as thinking about a boy. We were plagued by an insane dress code, and it was practically looked down upon to wear makeup to class; therefore, I grew accustomed to valuing my intangibles. We were judged by our actions, words, leadership, and other behaviors rather than looks. Imagine the absolute culture shock it was for me to step foot on a college campus three years later and realize that how I had grown up in adolescence was a controlled environment that was truly one of a kind. After a few months at the college, I started to play this silent game with myself. I would compare other people’s behavior towards me based on how much effort I put into my appearance. It mainly consisted of people (particularly men) holding the door after almost letting it close on my face, getting free snacks from a local gas station, and even just having more people smile at me as I walked from and to class. When my hair was twisted in a (bad) messy bun with my four-year-old glasses on, I had hardly experienced the same treatment. Through the fastening of pink blouses and Fenty lip liners, I had carved out a new life for myself. I had literally bought "pretty privilege."
"Pretty privilege" is a cultural movement led by beautiful women holding pitchforks and 100-year-old male CEOs. It describes moments of bliss attributed to the artificial beauty that makeup, plastic surgery, and injectables create. Despite an overall progressive culture that promotes inclusivity and diversity with identities, conventional attractiveness seems to be something bottled and commodified. The most troubling aspect of pretty privilege is that its existence is practically universally acknowledged; through anecdotal evidence on TikTok, Instagram algorithms, and even psychology lectures, it seems like everyone is aware of the insane upsides to being attractive (or fitting into Eurocentric beauty standards).
In my college psychology class, my professor had a slide dedicated to the “halo effect.” He told us that it was often cited as proof of pretty privilege since many people initially associate attractiveness with other positive traits such as intelligence, charisma, and trustworthiness. Psychology Today explains it like this:
When forming a first impression, observing an initial attractive feature—perhaps beauty or strength—can make the person appealing, making it difficult to revise that impression based on new or opposing information.
Though I find many aspects of pretty privilege to be borderline frightening, I mostly want to understand why a progressive culture of acceptance rejects the notion of accepting one’s appearance. One may argue that counter-movements such as "Body Positivity" are evidence of a culture pushing back on these norms. However, the mainstream faces of the movement are often beautiful women. Ashley Graham is one specific person who is looked upon as a face of the modern-day movement; however, obviously, Graham is exceptionally beautiful. Though she receives her own bit of backlash for her weight, compare it to a public figure such as Lizzo. Though Lizzo is a beautiful and talented woman, since she is farther from the “idyllic” white Western beauty standard by nature of being a Black woman with Afro-centric features and darker skin, she receives noticeably more backlash to the point that it's a joke in the circles of frat boys everywhere.
So, pretty privilege is practically universally acknowledged with problematic consequences for women everywhere, so why do we buy into it?
The beauty industry is a billion-dollar industry. CEOs, local sales associates, influencers, and everyone in between rely on the steady buying of beauty products and procedures. Therefore, when hundreds of thousands of people rely on it to pay their rent, there are millions going into marketing. Looking back at ads from the '50s, they would attack women’s ability to be a wife, mother, or functioning member of society if they did not buy a product. What is scary is that now these companies can do that on a wide-spread scale on several different platforms; algorithms are formed to sell people things, to play on their insecurities, and then influencers make money off of it themselves, teaching people to “glow up” and get that better life for themself.
I was first introduced to the concept of "pretty privilege" by Youtuber Alivia D’Andrea in her infamous “Glow Up Diaries” series. She mentioned in a teary monologue how a childhood friend of hers said he could barely recognize her. D’Andrea’s series focuses on her struggles with hormonal acne and an unhealthy relationship with food. At first, I struggled watching her obsession with the scale, but as I grew older, I understood her. After going to College, I noticed that some friends would always have their drinks paid for or never stress over getting invites. The reason that women, in particular, have an obsession with beauty is that its possession improves perception and relationship building.
On social media now, women have especially been told to use and abuse their attractiveness to gain access to free drinks, parties, and men. In her essay collection My Body, Emily Rataowski writes of her struggles with pretty privilege.
I post Instagram photos that I think of as testaments to my beauty and then obsessively check the likes to see if the internet agrees. I collect this data more than I want to admit, trying to measure my allure as objectively and brutally as possible. I want to calculate my beauty to protect myself, to understand exactly how much power and lovability I have.
A lot of advice online surrounds the idea of total self-awareness with one’s attractiveness. Leading people to overthink and label themselves as a certain type of pretty. Girl pretty, boy pretty, bunny pretty, cat pretty, dog pretty, etc. My only real reaction these days to the discourse is – SHUT UP! This reaction is undeniably harsh, but I believe that as women, we have so much more to offer than our looks and bodies.
Let's spend the time we used thinking about our looks in conjunction with this imaginary pyramid on something we were passionate about. I guarantee we would all be happier, even if it means losing some of the "advantages" that come with "pretty privilege."
Opmerkingen