Looks as Currency

I went to my brother's New Year's Eve party (with my parents). All my brother's friends are guys and they all have stunning beautiful, annoying, bitchy, shallow girlfriends

The next day, both my parents were totally attacking thses women--how awful the women of my brother's age (he's almost 10 years younger than me). How shallow the women are. How did such lovely men get taken advantage of by such horrible women?

I had a very different reaction. I wondered why these men were so shallow that looks became the only thing that mattered in their girlfriends. These men are accomplished (finishing PhDs), but not super-wealthy or glamarous types. They drive Priuses and are very much in the socio-economic group that finds Priuses to the car-du-jour. The future college professors of the world. If the only thing they care about are looks, to the point that they will date (and plan on marrying) women who seem more like some reality TV show, who work in retail and talk about fashion, what hope is there for the world?

I don't know whether my brother's friends are representative of the late 20-somethings. My brother struggles with this because he knows he wants a partner who is in intellectual equal, who is spiritually grounded with strong progressive values, but she must be drop-dead gorgeous (preferably without make-up or time spent on her looks). But, ultimately, he's willing to compromise on everything but looks. 6 months ago he was dating a 19-year-old, who worked at Victoria's Secret. Unlike his friends, he couldn't imagine a life with her. But it's not like he'd ever consider dating one of the other doctoral candidates. They just aren't cute enough.

This, ultimately, is where feminism has no answers. Men have the power here because being alone is such a huge price to pay. And if men only care what women look like, then that does become hugely more important.

When my ex and I met, when we first met and I was about 10 feet away, he whisptered "wow" under his breath. He claims it wasn't a trick and he doesn't remember saying it. And I was far enough away that I didn't think he said it for my benefit. That little word worked SO well for me to just relax and be confident and comfortable with him. But the longer we were together, the more he'd make comments. He sat next to a 16 year old on a bus, in super short-shorts, and he talked about her thighs for a week after. I knew I could never match up.

John and I had a really interesting discussion about this. He seems to have a view of beauty much closer to that of Ricky in American Beauty than of the standard conventions. He notices me spark, but he also really appreciates a side of me I don't find attractive, the laxed, softer side. But John is an extraordinary gem. Truly one in a thousand. Yes, I probably actually have flirted with, talked with or dated a thousand guys. John is extraordinary.