On Kate Middleton

By Anči
 

Since bringing up Kate Middleton in my post on weddings I’ve wanted to further unpack the duchess's role as Global ambassador to upper class white women:

Because let’s face is: Kate Middleton is more than just a princess or a celebrity--  she’s also the living manifestation of flawless womanhood. (A position only recently dominated by Santa Angelina Jolie.)  

Look at her. The woman literally has no bad angles.

Like Jolie, Kate has bravely accepted the mantle of envied, unattainable perfection;  and in doing so, has invoked an age-old contract with the people : Essentially this covenant grants Her Highness unchallenged status and admiration, in exchange for her unwavering commitment to maintaining a glamorous facade, fit for public consumption. 

True to her pact, our Kate has managed to do this in a number of ways--Most notably, by never ever appearing in public without her trademark, professionally blown-out hair.  (an unrealistic and impractical demand for us common folk, who regularly go to sleep with a wet ponytail, and a nasal strip.) She also projects the consistently classy,  confident image required of any inaugurated Alpha Female.  And just like her flawless foremothers  Kate is a star, of the rare variety, able to  effortlessly produce a credible (and winsome!) smile on demand.  And  In a typically mystical fashion, she has never been seen with a frown on her face, or other such unacceptably humanizing expression. Add to that a sexy royal pregnancy, and you've got superwoman.

I was too lazy to spend time looking for a brunette version.

Speaking of her pregnancy, you might recall that during that gestating time, Kate's image was  frequently  positioned next to her equally-knocked-up celeb-peer,  Kim Kardashian. (Unlike perfect Kate, Kim proved woefully incapable of cultivating a concave baby bump-- a defect for which the reality star was thoroughly shamed.)

Kate on the other hand, only reinforced her place as the mythical shepherd of unattainably slender motherhood—by consistently "outperforming" her supposed "celeb-rivals" in the media-manufactured baby-weight battle of the ages: Check it out:

 Since entering the spotlight, Kate Middleton has been primarily lauded for her looks :  the ideal girl with  shiny hair, a tight body, and glamorous wardrobe. More importantly, She's  the woman who captured the heart of the future King of England--  a supposedly impressive feat (?) reserved only for the most Angelina-like of dames. Surely then, it was acceptable to expect unmatched perfection from her. Anything less would be insulting, right?

No one can look this cute all the time!

Wait no. Apparently they can.

I want to hate her but,...she's just too adorable!

Despite fairing so well initially,  as  ambassador of white womanhood, and Chief Guardian of the Eternal Feminine Mystery. (Which, I hear is preserved inside a golden tampon, inserted by Queen Elizabeth herself,) some cracks have started to appear, on Kate's royal semblance.
The most recent glitches in her cylon veneer, literally sprouted out of her head, (in the form of unsightly grey hairs)  rendering the princess, alarmingly and visibly human. Check it out:

the face of decay

As expected, the people did not take kindly to the Royal acquisition of silvere: with  criticism escalating to widespread outrage. (I'm not exaggerating. Google it.)


 The chief objection from the hair-police,  seemed to lie in Middleton's refusal to acquiesce to the terms of the aforementioned Unattainable-Perfection-Pact. With the the majority of commentators expressing some of version of "Isn't it her job to impress us all the time? How she dare step out in public looking like that, bollocks wanker Dumbledore?" (I failed British 101)
Along with complaints about her hair, there were also a surge of ageist potshots directed at her "sagging" "baggy" skin, and under-eye circles.

It was the  familiar, brutal  takedown of a famous beauty's appearance, and it wasn't surprising.
 Any woman who teases perfection, is eventually punished, when she fails to follow through. And no one ever "follows through" because even beauties are people, and nobody's perfect.

 This is not to suggest that Kate has fallen from grace-- she still commands the attention and envy of billions of people,  but like any woman in power, she'll also continue experiencing a backlash of body shaming, and contempt rarely directed at men in similar positions.

Thoughts?


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On weddings, and bridal culture

By Anči

I always get irritated at the phrase “every little girl dreams of having the perfect wedding someday.” Not because there’s anything wrong with that, (unless  you inject me with truth serum. In which case I might  say “Yes, Professor Snape, there is something very wrong with that.” And nobody could hold it against me, because… truth serum.)

But in my current serumless, postmenstrual state,  I’d say… fine. It’s a fun fairy tale little girls  are into.  (Courtesy of Barbie, Disney, and something called “David’s Bridal.”)

There's even a "Royal Wedding" doll. Because that's an attainable fantasy for every female child.

 Having the “perfect” wedding has never been my dream though.  It may simply be the fact that  I’ve…systematically stained  every single white item  of clothing I own. (Including all  my bras…  which are mostly, now... the color of   “Forbidden Sensation’s Chocolate body paint.”  Because I like to eat it with toast... Usually while wearing sweatpants and a bra.)

But my gut tells me my aversion to everything  "white wedding," stems from feeling emotionally manipulated by the bridal industry. (Oh and by the way, every kiss does not begin with “Kay.” I would know because my last kiss began with  “Baby, I brushed my teeth for real this time!”) 

 Thanks to  aggressive campaigning on the industry's part,  women feel pressure to "provide" their friends and family with the romantic rites befitting of their social station. And if God forbid,  any cultural expectations aren't met, the woman is made to feel like a failure. (Even Santa Kate Middleton, who was criticized for doing her own makeup, and giving Willy a dry kiss on the balcony.) 

 Regardless of the level of  "offense," whether a bride chooses to walk down the aisle rocking a pregnant belly (like my mom did when she married my dad!), or makes the "bold" decision to keep her own name, (like my mom did when she married my dad!)  or whether  she refuses to starve herself into compulsory daintyess.  (You can't really call it "the happiest day of my life" when your stomach's eating itself, can you?) there are necessary (and gender-specific) social repercussions to contend with.

The point is, the burden of nuptial success is placed squarely on the shoulders of the bride who's simultaneously expected to 1) reassure the public of her symbolic virginity, (I call it the glorious phantom hymen!) and  2) emphasize her 'goodies' just enough, to secure the requisite role of "The most beautiful woman in the room." (Remember, It doesn't count unless somebody's creepy uncle gets his share of wedded eye candy.)

Liz Lemon knows wedding dresses are for eating large quantities of ham

To be clear, although I hate the wedding culture, I don't hate marriage. In fact  I eventually plan on getting married in an official ceremony.  (With cake! That doesn't stain, right?)  And yes, it will be meaningful and romantic: even while lacking in bridesmaids and wedding toasts, (What am I, a Protestant?)  or a diamond ring proposal, (What am I, a congressman’s niece?) Or a big frilly gown. (What am I Mexican? Actually yes,  and that's racist.)

Questions?