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What are you waiting for?

There seems to be two types of people who are in the crazy waiting room. The first is the lethargic, schmeh, everything is horrible people who mope around with their heads hung through imaginary nooses that they’d wish were real ones. The other type is the super hyper, mile a minute, medicated conversation starters that see something about you to which they can relate and attempt an in depth conversation in the narrow space between arriving at the office, and being called to talk to your therapist. One of the latter accosted me today and shared with me her thoughts of my lobes with the phrase, “You’ll look like an African soon, tripping over your ears.” Indeed, crazy woman; my goals of becoming African are in fact nearing. Before you know it, I’ll be hunting lions, winning gold metals in the Olympic Games, and being sold to other countries for rum.


I have always been fascinated by the swelling trends of aesthetic. What is ironic about these trends is that often some are reflexive to trends of the past, which then take on a new genesis of popularity though it actually is a something that had been done before. Does any of that make sense? Wide bottomed jeans had a resurgence from its grave of the 60’s. Tights and skirts and teased hair and leg warmers seem to be creeping into today from the distant 80’s. And who can ignore the animal skin boots, harkening back to those hip and happening times of Geats (“Beowulf,” anyone?). I think it is difficult to categorize the aesthetics in which you’ve lived because those trends and commonplace threads are the normalcy of the timber in the society of which you are a part, so they don’t stand out. I’d be interested to learn what trends of my young adult youth (more the 90’s when I was a teen than the 80’s when I was...not) survive into the future of social aesthetic.


In case you haven’t noticed, this is going to be more of a free form stream of consciousness rant than a well organized editorial. What’s that? None of my other rants are well organized? Oh. That hurt a little. Anyway, “We are what was and will be once again!” Name that movie. Aesthetic and beauty changes through generation, and in a strange anthropology, we study and manipulate these changes. One question here is, is it actually the sensibility of our perception of beauty that changes, or is the beauty the same, just under frosted eye shadow and BK sneakers? Another is how do our aesthetic choices foster our beauty? Easy, Cap’n. One thing at a time here.


In the 50’s, our sense of beauty was different than it is now. We had models like Betty Paige and Marilyn Monroe who, though very much stand the test of time, are of a different ilk than the models of today. When I was a teen, a booming trend of models exploded, or more accurately imploded, as those who were thin beyond a rational healthy sense. How, in forty short years, did the nation’s eye temper and magnetize to such a drastically different aesthetic? I guess along the way there was a brief respite in the likes of Twiggy and others, but she doesn’t seem to represent the whole.


Men are not exempt, even though speaking to women’s aesthetic sensibility seems unfairly easier. There was a time when a big hairy chest and a mustache was epitome of masculine beauty. After several stops along the subway of male aesthetic, we seem to have arrived at a more toned and hairless pouty pool boy type of aesthetic. Burt Reynolds in his prime, or Tom Cruise in his? Still, along the way we saw the likes of Daniel Craig, Hugh Jackman, and even a stop at Hugh Grant’s station (for some ridiculous reason); all of whom fit the form of that throwback masculinity that lives outside of the Calvin Klien advertisement. 


Modifications have also garnered socio-aesthetic attention. Men with lobes pierced in the 50’s were viewed as a much different type as they are now; and even now, the acceptance is still far from absolute. Women even now are finding a difficulty in social acceptance through modification though traditionally in the past, it seemed as if women were the only accepted to be pierced. That 50’s model has, in itself, become a scene that people latch onto for their aesthetic. The greaser hair, leather jacket, white t-shirt, and cigarettes rolled into the sleeve has seen a modern interpretation which has become its own culture. Women as well throw back to these trends with the hair and make up, shoes and dress; and for some reason, modification has slipped its way right into that scene as if it were always there. It seems strangely to fit perfectly.
 

It seems as if the trends and styles that predate each generation are borrowed and modified to fit the current aesthetic sensibilities. So each generation, I suppose, takes what they like from the previous, and makes it their own. I still don’t understand how giant sunglasses, sandals on men, and black rimmed glasses have survived the test of time, but my days of being a runway model are long past me, and I guess I’m out of the loop. I still think the invention of the t-shirt and jeans combination is man’s greatest contribution to society at large. But it’s strange to think of what didn’t survive as the majority. Those stockings with the seam up the back didn’t make it, and men wearing suits all the time, like in old timey baseball footage, didn’t make it. Why do we abandon certain style choices and perpetuate others?


Function could be a reason. Scarfs will always exist because your neck will always be cold. Sandals and the flip and flop (which should be called “thong sandals” more often because it sounds awful) will always exist because your feet will always be hot. Socks will always exist because blisters on the feet are worse than performing sex acts on Satan. So I’ve heard. Rings, bracelets, earrings will all exist because man will always wish to subtly share with strangers his monetary value. But there are other things that seem to serve no purpose that have survived for longer than any of us can rationalize. Face make up, fingernail paint, piercings, tattoos, and cutting the hair. OK, so if you’re a gladiator or a Spartan warrior, cutting the hair makes important sense. But what do the other nonessential aesthetic accouterments provide that we as human beings so desperately wish to hold onto?


They provide beauty. Doing something with your own aesthetic that accentuates and satisfies solely in the scheme of your own point of view is a magnanimous salute to yourself. We will always wish to feel beautiful. To others, to friends, to lovers, and most importantly to ourselves. Does that fancy bra serve any purpose to the single woman who will wear it to work, go home, change, and go to bed? OK, other than holding her tits up. It serves none except to provide a self aesthetic comfort that radiates with beauty. The beauty that we augment on the surface of our skin reverberates within the subtle behaviors that are dictated to the amorphous intangibles beneath the skin. We feel beautiful for no one else but ourselves, and in that, we are viewing life through lenses that are bright and giving. My generation gave the world crooked hats, track pants worn below the ass, and work boots worn by people who don’t do any work. These things are likely to rot in sarcophagi of the past, but the art in our skin, the jewelry in our lips and nipples and genitals, and the paint on our faces and fingernails births a beast who is immortal. The beast is comfort and beauty, and it will always exist.


Stay beautiful, kids.
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