beauty

Decoding Sex in the Media: Why the Media Should Leave Kate Middleton's Baby Bump (And Everyone Else's) Alone

The implicit message behind OK!’s headline is clear: a new mother’s first concern should be her appearance.

This woman’s body just produced a tiny, squirming human being—we should celebrate it for this incredible feat! Instead, the media chooses to focus on presumed “flaws" of a person's body post-pregnancy, encouraging Kate—and women like her—to return (and immediately: do not pass go, do not collect $200) to the body she inhabited before she gave birth.

These types of headlines illustrate a disheartening phenomenon: the pervasive belief that a woman’s physical attractiveness (a trait dictated by an increasingly narrow beauty ideal) determines her value.

What's it called when you're a straight girl who finds other women beautiful?

Thyromanes
asks:
What do you call it when you're sexually attracted to men (I'm a girl), but you can also appreciate female beauty? I'm straight and would not want a woman as a sexual partner. However, it's not unusual when I see a beautiful woman to think "damn, she's smokin'" the same way I might think "wow, he's a hunk" when I see an attractive guy....

How can I trust that someone else will like my body when I hate it so much?

porte
asks:
I am 15 years old and about 5'10 and weigh more than 200lbs. I am currently in a long distance relationship and have been for almost 11 months. See, the thing is, I know I'm pretty, but I hate my body. The only thing that I like about it is my boobs. I am very self-conscious about it and I can't seem to lose weight. My boyfriend and I share everything together....

Ever Smiling Doll

Sexuality in ColorI used to play with Barbies a lot when I was little. No wonder I wanted to be blonde.

I smiled at my reflection. Not because of my morena skin. Not because of my brown eyes, or even because I was looking at the face of a child with a life of opportunity ahead. It was because at that time of day, if I used a bit of imagination, the light from Costa Rica’s morning sun made my dark, curly hair glow a golden yellow. I would go into daydreams of myself: blonde with bright blue eyes and a perfectly pink smile, driving off in a matching magenta convertible with the most popular boy in the class.