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- Kola Kokahalla
- Some call me the space cowboy... Actually, no one calls me that. Not least of all because I'm a lady. A proper lady, with ambitions and passion and lipstick. I'm brimming with love and scorn, courage and fear, hope and disappointment, alcohol and pathos. And I make great pancakes!
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Thursday, July 15, 2010
We Are Beautiful and We Are Revolting
12:04 PM | Posted by
Kola Kokahalla |
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You might be snuggled down into your luxurious couch, sunk deliciously into a ploppy pillow, comfortable in your newly washed, super soft sweat pants and a favorite t-shirt, sipping a mug of fine brewed, aromatic coffee, feet propped up beside you, feeling at one with the universe around you. At that moment anything is possible. Problems? No problem at all. Everything is karmic. Everything is achievable. Harmony with the world around you is yours.
Until the commercial break. Then all hell breaks loose in your velvety, cushioned, perfectly balanced world.
Because you are reminded. You are not good enough. Why did you eat that sandwich and a handful of potato chips for lunch? Ladies are supposed to eat a small, fat-free yogurt and smile while doing it. What's more, we are supposed to emerge from this feast, full bellied and satisfied and perhaps moderately orgasmic from the experience. This keeps our digestive tracts in optimal working condition and allows us to be supermodel skinny, which everyone worth their salt knows, is the most important prerequisite to finding and keeping a man. And what would any of us be without a man? So put down that sandwich, fatty, and repent. And you sigh, because you don't particularly enjoy yogurt, despite its obvious benefits. And you have always viewed it as more of an appetizer, or a snack between meals. Or maybe breakfast. But now the guilt has its tentacles tight around your mind and you vow that tomorrow, you will buy a yogurt.
Or at least you will only eat half of that ham sandwich and omit the chips altogether.
But before you can get too depressed we've moved on. Some other lady is trying to sell you some fitness equipment that will "get rid of those love handles nobody loves". Because, fatso, how is anyone ever going to respect or love you, if you don't have zero body fat? Ladies, you have to get that man, remember? Did you already forget the grave message of the yogurt commercial? You don't work out nearly enough. You walk to and from work each day and you play badminton twice a week and sure, you jog three times a week, but it's not enough, you gluttonous, unfit wench!
You sigh and put down the coffee, lamenting the two spoons of sugar you melted in there earlier. It's not so enjoyable now. It's mocking you. And before you can contemplate it further, some glowing, airbrushed sally is administering yet another grave warning. Wrinkles. You can get them. You will get them. In fact, you probably already have them! Even you there - young, pretty, 22 years old, fresh out of college, full of optimism and youth, you need to start thinking about preventing those crows feet. It's never too early for a good moisturizer and some sunscreen, but you need the right moisturizer.
As for you ladies over 30, you don't have to look so haggard and old. There's still hope. Buy this product and your wrinkles will magically disappear. You will look almost human again. You can go out in daylight without making men cry. Because no one wants to look at someone who's spent the past 30 years laughing. You're supposed to look like those models on the front of magazines. If you don't use this product you will be worthless, loveless, pointless. This is airbrushing in a cream, ladies! If you don't want it, then I feel sorry for you.
While you're thinking about it, use our ageless body wash and our full line of cosmetics too. Remember that man we told you about earlier? He doesn't want to see lines. If you can see lines, you have failed at life.
By the time the show recommences, you have two choices. You can be ashamed of your food eating, fat, wrinkled self or you can say, fuck it. I'm normal. I'm alive. You can take our insecurities and blow them up to billboard size and shove them, along with those millions of mythical men who are demanding a perfect android for a girlfriend.
We are beautiful and we are revolting.
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3 comments:
Loved this post. Wau too true! Thanks for following me! I don't usually follow back unless I really like the blog...you got me!
I've been thinking about TV lately too so this was a great read. In addition to all of those things that you described, I was kind of bummed out the other day thinking I will probably NEVER in my lifetime see another woman like me in a commercial doing "normal" things. I'll never see my reality relfected back to me. The only time I see people "like me" is when they are dressed up as elves or leprachauns or some other ridiculous stereotype. Grrr. - G
Hello Eva and Georgina, thank you for stopping by to my new web corner. I've been enjoying your blogs.
Georgina - I think that's the thing with commercials. Women in commercials represent only the perfect woman or the perfect mom. There's no in between. You never see anyone who's not the beautiful side of average. Nobody tall or short, overweight (unless it's for weight loss supplements) unusual looking or dressed in shlubby old sweats as they run around Wal*Mart. :) Dumb commercials.
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