What is beauty? What does it mean when something is beautiful?
I have spent my entire life never feeling like the most beautiful girl in the room. Let’s be honest, I’m simply not and never will be. I never fit in the with the “jappy” (JAP - Jewish American Princess) girls of the upper east side with perfectly straightened hair and matching preppy outfits. I wasn’t a traditional tomboy nor was I a feminine girl… I was just me, incessantly wearing a tinker bell dress for weeks on end or trying out a new style every other day. I was always trying to find what made me feel attractive and interesting…one day I was goth, the next I was hippie, then I was sexy…I was always searching for the right fit. Still to this day I’m not sure if it was to get approval from the “cool” kids or simply to find what made me feel most comfortable in my own skin — I assume it was both to some degree and as I got older I found my “look” attracted older men, often different ethnicities than my own, but usually not who I thought I wanted to attract. And for that matter, was I actively even trying to attract someone or was I just trying to feel good about myself? And when I did receive attention, did I end up feeling good? I think, to be perfectly honest, the answer is yes. I think it was validation for my trial and error and it certainly made me feel beautiful, at least in terms of the public definition of beautiful - or more accurately, desirable. That’s what beauty is these days right — jealousy, desiring to either look like what is considered beautiful, or literally desiring that person or object.
So after years of searching for what made me feel “beautiful”… I truly found myself in Flying Feathers. Not only do I genuinely believe the feather extensions in all of their glorious colors and concoctions are a stunningly beautiful example of performance art (whether or not you agree, I could care less) but I also find a constant barrage of validation from the public. And I’m not gonna lie, it feels good to be complimented. Who doesn’t love a stranger telling them they look cool or interesting or beautiful… perhaps a lifetime of feeling average looking makes me appreciate it even more. I admit this is a shallow reason to wear feathers in my hair but despite this side of it, I not only feel more beautiful when I look in the mirror (regardless of if I get a compliment that day or not) but they, like red bull ;-), give me wings I never knew I had! My inner confidence has shot up ten fold, my self-worth has increased, and even though my face is the same, my hair is still curly and I haven’t actually gotten any more beautiful — I sure as hell feel it and to be frank… isn’t that all that matters??