Behold the world’s first honest beauty pageant, Miss Plastic Hungary 2009, in which every single contestant has, at some point, gone under the knife (a simple Botox injection doesn’t count). Dozens of surgically enhanced Barbie Dolls parade around the stage, showing off some of the perkiest breasts, tightest tummies and narrowest noses in the nation! It’s just like Miss USA, except the contestants actually admit to being plastic, and the winner gets an apartment in Budapest instead of the Trump Towers. Oh, and the plastic surgeon of the winner receives a prize too, because, well, he did all work.
I feel like I should be disgusted by this, but I’m actually quite entertained. Wouldn’t it be great if all the so-called “beauty competitions” in America were more appropriately named? Just imagine– “Miss Ass-Lift Arizona”, “Miss Fake-Breasts Florida”, “Miss Tummy-Tuck Tennessee”! Instead of winning a scholarship, they could win a lifetime supply of plastic surgery to keep them in ship-shape, and America’s real-looking women could sleep easy at night knowing that artificial beauty and natural beauty are not being judged by the same standards.
That said, there is definitely something awry in a world in which so many women are driven to alter their appearances that a new brand of beauty competition has to be created to recognize this growing trend. Tell me, again, who decided that an asymmetrical nose is undesirable, and that a B-cup is far less attractive than a C? There’s no way that every single man in the world wants a 5’9″, 120 lb., blonde, C-cup woman with a perfect nose. Not even most them want that– it’s not scientifically possible.
I was just reading in the Huffington Post this morning about the controversy over an emaciated woman in one of Ralph Lauren’s ads. Controversial, indeed– the woman looks like a Bobble-headed Stretch Armstrong doll:
Ralph Lauren has publicly apologized for photoshopping literally half of the woman’s body off, but I still have to wonder what motivated the alteration in the first place. Some team of photo editors sat around the unfinished image, saying, “You know, her pelvis is still wider than her head. Can we just shave some more of that off?”
Gross. I’d rather be a size 10 any day.