We live in the world of mass production where a rare thing is created as unique one. Houses and T-shirts, big and small objects often look alike as if they were cupcakes from one lot. But strangely enough, I don’t really care. Things are things. If they are comfortable and not utterly ugly I can live within them and don’t cry about the fact that the tablecloth of mine is not a piece of handmade lace from the nineteenth century. But I don’t like dealing with predictable patterns of mind, ready-made ideas and molded lives.
Many years ago I saw a documentary footage from the 1950s. A woman’s body silhouette was cut out in a big piece of cardboard, and young girls in swimming suits stepped into it one after another to check if their bodies were close in shape to the prescribed standard of beauty.
While standing in line all the girls looked slim and perfectly shaped, but the moment they entered the stencil form the only thing you could see was that they didn’t fit. Some had smaller breasts, some had bigger buttocks, and some were shorter or taller than the cut-out ideal profile. It made you feel sorry for very beautiful girls.
Today the ‘ideal’ patterns are not cut out of cardboard; they are spread much more aggressively by mass media and become part of our mind not only in the area of physical beauty. They touch everything. They dictate all of us what to like, what to dream about, what to believe in and how to live as if we were cupcakes from one lot. Personality doesn’t count because it doesn’t fit.
I keep questioning myself why do we give in. Why do we allow someone or something affect our vision, our choices, our lives? Why do we try to fit even when we know that the ideal is false? Are we that insecure or is it just easier this way? I know there are people strong enough to stand up for themselves, those who stay who they are no matter what. I want to learn their secret, I want to be one of a kind. Don’t you? Perhaps you’re already there.