Has it really been a month since I've posted? Guess we've been busy. Eventually I'll get around to posting pictures from our trip to Chuncheon this weekend, but for now they're still in the camera. Instead, here's a post I've been mulling over for several months, hoping to organize my thoughts into some rational theme.
I didn't know about double-eyelids until a couple of years ago. In fact, before Mike explained it to me, it had never occurred to me that an eyelid could be considered a major determinant of one's beauty. I still remember the conversation--Mike had said something about my eyes being big, and I'd laughed, because I have very average-sized eyes; I figured he was just trying to find something to compliment to be sweet.
Mike: But you have such deep double-eyelids!
Me: Huh?
Mike: You know, this part (pointing).
Me: Huh??
Mike: This! (folding his own eyelid)
Me: Oww, stop that!
Mike: People have surgery to get this.
Me: You're kidding. Right?
I know, I'm coming at this from an outsider's perspective. Beauty, I know, is not defined the same way in every culture. And double-eyelid surgery isn't alone in drawing my indignation, if that's even the right word to describe my negative feelings. I put foot-binding, neck stretching, and tanning beds in the same category.
One of the things that surprised and disappointed me when I first went to China was that so many women permed and dyed their hair. And not subtly--the most popular styles at the time seemed to involve fried orange kinks; no surprise that the Chinese word for "perm" literally means "scald." I didn't get it--I've had a mild envy of "Asian" hair my whole life--and forgive me for stereotyping--glossy, straight, black; there have been days, when I couldn't seem to tame my cow-lick-y, frizzy, not-curly-but-not-straight brown mop, that my envy has been more than mild. Why would women want to scald their hair? I mentioned my observations to a college friend from China. "Everyone has straight black hair in China," she said, "it's nothing special, or even that pretty."
I was less surprised, but still a little bummed, that none of the clothes or shoes in China fit me. And I'm really not exaggerating--I asked at a few shoe stores if they had my size and just got a laugh in return. I could squeeze into a few of the more mumu-ish clothing styles, but decided pretty quickly that I was fine with what I brought in my suitcase. Often, Chinese people I'd meet wouldn't mince words (whether because they didn't know I understood their words or because it's culturally acceptable to state the obvious but potentially hurtful about someone's appearance, or a combination of both)--their observations usually went something like this: "Oh, look at the foreigner. She's kind of fat--probably an American. Her skin is pretty, though." I got used to it, got several laughs out of it, and enjoyed being in a culture where people use sun-brellas instead of tanning beds.
When I started dating Mike, I had to sort through some insecurity about my appearance. Not because of him--on the contrary, I can't imagine any guy being sweeter or more reassuring about body-image issues--but because there are so many darn beautiful Asian girls in the world. So many flawless-skinned, glossy haired, size-2 beautiful girls. I was a little afraid my size-10 feet, freckle-and-fry-in-the-sun skin, and well-cushioned frame would quickly lose its allure. Well, he married me, and now he's stuck with me, so I don't really worry about it too much any more. But I won't lie, I did have a few jealous moments when we got to Korea and skinny Prada-clad beauties were running around everywhere in size 6 four-inch heels. When, whether in the interest of full disclosure or seeking reassurance, I mentioned my feelings to my husband, he told me, whether honestly or in the interest of preserving domestic harmony, that I was crazy, that those women were jealous of me. "They all get surgery," he said.
Ok, the jealousy part was just my husband being sweet. (Let's be real--I don't fit in any of the clothes or shoes here.) But the surgery part doesn't seem to be too far from the truth.
I talked it over with Jihyun Unnie. "Cosmetic surgery is really common here" she said, "I'd say around 80% of Korean women my age have had some kind of procedure."
One of my coworkers told me about her daughter's Korean friend, who had double-eyelid surgery. In the fourth grade. I've seen someone look at a months-old baby and remark, "Oh, too bad she doesn't have double-eyelids." I wanted to yell--"she's a beautiful, precious baby! Who cares about her eyelids!!"
I don't want to begrudge anyone trying to look their best. I mean, braces are a common and painful expense many people undertake, and it's never occurred to me to look at that as a moral issue. But it just makes me sad that so many Korean women--beautiful to begin with--feel the need to go under the knife to "improve" their appearance. It just doesn't seem right! I want to yell, "Teach your daughters to be strong and confident! Teach them that uniqueness isn't a bad thing!! Teach them that inner beauty is more important!!!"
To use one of my favorite Korean words: Iigo. Argh.
I mean, really?
It looks like North Koreans are even getting into the trend.
So there you go. When my co-worker commented that all Korean movie and music stars look alike, he wasn't being racist.
