I am not beautiful and I don’t care.

by alexxxxxandra

I am not beautiful. I don’t look like Kate Moss, I don’t look like Venus, I don’t look like anyone remotely attractive. I’m no one’s aphrodite. I am smart though. I am special. I am good at something. Really good at it actually. I am funny. I do have amazing friends.


I do not look like Botticelli’s Venus.


The beauty thing really isn’t that big a deal. I think we need to reassess how much currency we award to beauty. Being beautiful doesn’t make you anything except lucky to have good genes. It doesn’t make you cleverer, it doesn’t make you kinder, and if one is to look at most celebrities, it doesn’t seem to make you much happier. 


She may be gorgeous, but she don’t look happy



He may be one of the most attractive male film stars, but is no stranger to heartbreak, and looks pretty bloody sad here.


However, it perversely makes you more successful. It’s hard to determine how much more successful, but beauty= call backs and call backs = jobs. Look at the kind of shit we saturate our lives in. In films and TV programmes those in positions of power are generally the most good looking. Even in ‘real life’, I wouldn’t kick Mr. Obama out of bed, or Tony Blair for that matter. But Gordon Brown (one of our most unpopular prime minsters) would definitely rank pretty low in the shag pile. Even dastardly David Cameron has a certain physical appeal to him. And no one can deny his piece Mrs. Samantha Cameron is unbelievably attractive and certainly doesn’t look all her 42 years. 


42? Really?!


This post isn’t about which politicians I want to fuck (although Zac Goldsmith, every time), it’s about how I don’t really care that I’m the wrong side of a size 12, with gappy teeth and a very bad case of ‘thighs-that-meet-each-other-at-the-top-and-half-way-down-the-leg’. I like the way I dress. I like my glasses, and I love my piercings. I like my jewellery. 


I like all these things. But I love my sense of humour. I love my ability to lead a group of people. I love my passion. I love the way I write.


I really hate the mentality that ‘we are all beautiful.’ We are simply not all beautiful. Some of us are down right ugly. But it shouldn’t really matter. Do you really want to be praised for something you were born with (for a combination of the right strands of DNA) or for something you cultivated? Something you have worked hard to achieve. 


Beauty is only skin deep and what’s underneath the skin has always interested me more.


A good heart. That’s all I want. That’s all I need.



And here I am. Happy.