The Narrowest Standard of Beauty

This short film is a horrifyingly, beautiful and accurate depiction of Western beauty standards.

Supervenus by Federic Doazan showcases the trauma and harm that a certain aesthetic does to a woman's body. The film is quite gory, as a real woman is nipped and tucked. We often forget that real women are engaging in this drastic behavior everyday to prove their worth and value to a society that holds them to such a narrow standard of beauty.

The amount of women who seek out plastic surgery gradually increases every year, telling an awful tale of how we view women's bodies and how women are taught to view themselves. We often regard women's bodies as products, something to be constantly improved upon and re-constructed at all times, as our bodies are suited for the male gaze and nothing else.

Check out the film and reflect for a moment on the harm this has on a woman's self esteem and how she regards herself in society. This is something we all need to talk about. When we put so much brain power towards our outward appearance, we often forget about making strides for women in politics and in the workplace.

Love,
Kris

Don't call me skinny, that's an insult

Any woman, entering in to any public space can expect to have her body judged by both men and women alike. We have so many ways to describe women's bodies, so many different criteria that we are constantly judged against:

How small are her breasts?
How big is her ass?
How broad are her shoulders?
How slender is her waist?

We describe women as curvy, thick, fat, skinny, slender, voluptuous, petite, athletic. While we often describe men in three ways: fat, skinny, muscular. It's no secret that women are held to a stricter standard when it comes to their appearance, and that's often because we're taught that a women's appearance equals her worth.

A fat woman, is an invisible woman, an ugly woman is someone to be ignored because when you're a woman, you must be attractive to prove your value to men and often to other women.

For a long time I bought in to this ideal. I didn't wanted to be stared at, judged, or worse, completely ignored because I couldn't manage to keep my appearance together. I developed an eating disorder, starving myself, working out excessively all to prove my value to society. And that's why I think as women, we need to stop congratulating one another for being thin or skinny.

It's not an accomplishment by any means, and calling someone skinny isn't a compliment, it's a body type. Some women look like that because of genetics without being healthy or exercising at all, meanwhile other women, not unlike myself, go to extreme measures to meet a certain ideal.

We continue to value one another based on weight, and it needs to stop. The body shaming needs to stop. The small, critical comments about each other's arms and legs has to stop.

And now there seems to be this influx of women's bodies that are sculpted, ripped, and muscular.

I will be the first to admit that I regularly lift weights at the gym, heavy weights, and I do it because I like the way it feels. Not because I'm trying to meet some new, trendy ideal of what's sexy. This new ideal is passed off as being about health, fitness, and loving yourself, and I just have to say that is complete and total bullshit.

If I have to hear, "your health is your wealth," one more fucking time I'm going to gauge my eyes out.

It's not about health, it's about vanity and you fucking know it. It's about shaming other women, who you deem as unhealthy, and you fucking know it.

There are overweight people who are healthy, so if it was really about health we would not praise some bodies while shaming others. It's a specific body, a look, that we deem as healthy and for most of us that look is completely unrealistic.

So I'm done trying to meet some fantasy ideal of what a woman should look like. This is who I am. This is what my body looks like, cellulite and all, and I don't give a fuck if it doesn't turn you on.

Keep your arousal to yourself.

My body isn't perfect, but it's mine so shut the fuck up. No one asked you anyway.

Love,
Kris

Excerpt from Logost, a Novel

My calves were sore from walking when I came across a stone, snow-covered bridge. It was icy, and I guessed that it would be unwise to cross it. But as I always went against my better judgment – trusting my own thoughts and opinions had never been easy for me – I trumped across it. It covered a small, man-made brook where water fell upon smoothed stones. An innate happiness flowed from the sound, and before I’d taken three steps to cross the stone bridge, I found myself retreating. I jumped down, and walked along the small ledge where the sound of the brook was heaviest.

The sound grew louder – a pulsating noise like the beat of a faltering heart. The act of blocking was becoming natural for me, and it took me only a moment before I realized that the sound was someone trying to break through my mental defenses. Someone stood behind me, attempting to cause me great suffering. I turned around to see Cassandra there, her friends Amy and Sasha flanked at her sides. Without hesitation, I froze several streams of water and shot the sharpened icicles at them. But Cassandra was clever and quick. She shattered each icicle in to tiny speckles of frost.

“That really is the best you can do.” She scoffed at me, and Sasha and Amy giggled. Cassandra’s eyes bore in to me, and I felt my access to oxygen cut off. She choked me with the strength of her mind, and I couldn’t scream out in pain – there was no air left in my lungs. The timing of my death beat closer and closer, but I refused to be killed by someone as trivial as Cassandra.

“I’ll be sure to tell Lucas how much you despise him,” she said. “And how peculiar it was that with your last dying breath, you told me that you wanted him to know you hate him,” she laughed, that piercing metallic sound. Happiness was unobtainable for Cassandra. She wasn’t happy even now that she would get her wish. To watch me die. Her eyes were dead, dark and emotionless. And even though she was killing me, I pitied her still. Poor girl, I thought as I waited for death.

The Earth quivered as it tried to save me from my untimely end. But I wasn’t the one controlling it. Cassandra fell to her knees and shrieked in torment. Her limbs flailed, and her body jolted upward towards the sky. Sasha and Amy made no move to help the girl, who they called a friend. They stared at me with horror-struck eyes, and jolted away from the scene. I got up from the brook and stood over Cassandra, watching as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She would die soon, and I had no inclination to save her. But I also had no desire to watch her die, so I turned to leave.

It was then that I saw him there, out of the corner of my eye. He leaned against the bridge, wringing his hands and watching me. He came over to me and stood behind me to whisper in my ear.

“She’s not dead yet,” Drew breathed, his voice a low, creaking sound. “She made an attack on your life. It’s only fair to end hers. Look at her, Mina. Focus on her heart stopping.”

“No, I can’t.” I thought about leaving, but I couldn’t stop watching her die. She looked like she would ask me to save her if she could speak.

“You were meant for greatness, my love,” he whispered. “And this is what it takes to be great. She’s nearly there. It wouldn’t take much,” he said, persuading me. But I made no move to end Cassandra’s life. “Fine,” Drew said as if murdering her were inevitable. And I watched her body stop shaking.

Her eyes didn’t shut once she was unmoving. They stayed open, and I kneeled beside her lifeless body. It twitched again, and I felt her tormented spirit escape her chest. I waved my hand over her face and shut her eyes. Drew kneeled behind me, slowly placing his hands on my shoulders.

To read more purchase Logost.



Love,
Kris