"Modesty is about revealing your dignity"

http://jessicarey.com/#

Try as I might, I can't seem to upload this video to the blog.  So, take my word for it that Jessica Rey's brief presentation on "The Evolution of the Swimsuit" is well worth your time.  

Today it's a given that 95% of women will spend their beach time in a bikini.  But has that always been the case?  Learn more about what you wear in the water.  

The video is available here.

Why do girls put their hands on their hips in every photo?

I've noticed a funny phenomenon in pictures of high school and college girls lately.  

The hand is always on the hip.  

You're probably noticed it too.  Every social media picture of young women between the ages of 12-22 involves whoever is standing on the ends -- which might be a picture of two people or of ten --positioning herself in such a way that her figure is more accentuated by a hand on the hip.  It even happens with one girl in a solo shot (ala celebrities).

I wanted to know if I am alone in thinking this trend is a bit strange.  So, off to google I went. I was not the only one asking.  In general, the "answers" to the omnipresent question, "Why?" were focused on the fact that the hand-on-the-hip accentuates the figure, makes one look skinnier and is "girly."  Some people offered their inkling that the hands-on-hip maneuver is a means of "showing off."  

There's so much more freedom and originality here! (Source)

I don't know why this picture craze bothers me so much.  I'm certainly not insinuating that it's a sin to pose in this way.  But, I really would like to know why girls today are under the impression that the only valid picture is the one taken with a stomach sucked in tight, a head tilted, and a hand on the hip.

What happened to just being oneself?  Why do young women feel compelled to conform to a particular pose, no matter the occasion, in order to take a proper picture?  Why are all pictures nearly identical when the people in them are so different?  Why is "showing off" the only way to be beautiful?  Before putting the hand on the hip, these are questions to reflect on and consider. 

(What will we think in 20 years when we look back at these photos?  Will 2010's parties in the future feature massive photo-ops of hands-on-hips poses?  These are more questions to ask, possibly related to how ridiculous I find this trend, but these are not nearly as important as the considerations above.)

There's something about the whole pose that cries, "Here I am, everybody!"  But the beauty of beauty is that it is silently, yet powerfully, calling another to rejoice.  Beauty isn't about neon lights and loud noises that tell us to stop and look.  Beauty is about something so intriguing, so surprising, that we can't help but stop, look and rejoice.  Authentic beauty doesn't require an announcement.  True beauty trusts and doesn't focus on self.  Beauty is a gift from God who is all Beauty, and beautiful revelations in our lives can't help but point back to Him.  

This doesn't mean we should walk around in the most haggard appearance possible, trusting that beauty is here, so what I say and do don't matter.  But on the other hand, if beauty is a gift we receive that invites others to an encounter with the Author of Beauty, then what does putting my hand on my hip really accomplish?  

This is just a humble plea for a rebirth of originality, being one's self and smiling authentically instead of asking behind gritted teeth (and a hand on the hip), "Does this make me look less fat?"  

Are there unattractive people? Why do they need a patron saint?

Since first learning of St. Drogo, I've been a fan.  His name alone is rather incredible.  Then, of course, one learns that he is the patron saint of coffee makers ... and of ugly people.  His brief biography says that while on pilgrimage he was "stricken with an unsightly bodily affliction."  Several years ago, friends and I doing pro-life work for the summer decided to ask for his prayers.  We were rather mystified by this man with the odd name and the even odder patronage.  

Whenever I tell people that I like St. Drogo, they either tell me, "You're not ugly!" or say, "God doesn't make ugly people, so why do they have a patron?"  My early requests for his prayers were not due to poor body image, but rather an interest in a saint who is largely unknown.

But the second common response to my praise of St. Drogo (who I still maintain was responsible for some iced coffee brought to my fellow pro-life walkers and I on a hot June day several years ago during our 1,300 mile journey on foot throughout the Northeast) is one that is interesting.  

Does God make ugly people?  Do unattractive people exist?  Why do they need a patron?

These are great questions.  God, who is all Beauty, does not create that which is not beautiful.  If we view someone as unattractive, it is not their lack of beauty, but our inability to perceive it.

Still, we have sin, which means we have suffering, which means we have all sorts of marks, wrinkles, blemishes and other signs that point to less than perfection.

But can these be beautiful?  We look at Mother Teresa in all of her wrinkles and leathery skin and say, "How beautiful!"  We see it in her eyes, in her smile, in her aged, wrinkled hands holding a child dying in Calcutta.  Even her wrinkles and her tired eyes are beautiful, because in them we see signs of her selflessness, her love and her faithfulness.  

The existence or not of "unattractive people" isn't necessarily the only reason for a patron, however.  Unattractiveness, even if only perceived and not real, can also be felt.  It's no secret that nearly every woman in the United States of America could point you to her "flaws" faster than her beauty.  A zit.  A wrinkle.  A big nose.  A crooked nose.  Stringy hair.  Frizzy hair.  Little eyes.  Big eyes.  A double chin.  Sunken eyes.  

You get the picture.  But what if we could learn to see ourselves how others see us?  What if we could see ourselves how God sees us?  Surely it would be different.  One is seeing through eyes of love, wonder and gratitude.  The other is seeing with eyes of criticism, anger, frustration and fear.  

What's the difference?  Here's a fascinating glimpse:

 

How do we begin to see beauty even in ourselves?  It begins with seeing beauty as a gift from God and not as our own endeavor, the amount of money we sink into Cover Girl or the number affixed to our dress tag.  If we see God as beautiful, and then see ourselves as made in his image and likeness, then the stage has been set for a healing in beauty.  It takes time -- maybe even a lifetime -- but it's a gift that we can come to recognize, to receive and for which to be grateful.  Perhaps St. Drogo can accompany us on this journey, realizing beauty where we thought only ugliness was to be found.  

Quote book

"Necessary emphasis should be placed on the 'genius of women,' not only by considering great and famous women of the past or present, but also those ordinary women who reveal the gift of their womanhood by placing themselves at the service of others in their everyday lives.  For in giving themselves to others each day women fulfill their deepest vocation.  Perhaps more than men, women acknowledge the person, because they see persons with their hearts.  They see them independently of various ideological or political systems.  They see others in their greatness and limitations; they try to go out to them and help them.  In this way the basic plan of the Creator takes flesh in the history of humanity and there is constantly revealed, in the variety of vocations, that beauty -- not merely physical, but above all spiritual -- which God bestowed from the very beginning on all, and in a particular way on women." -- Bl. John Paul II 

"It's not easy being a woman"

My latest contribution to the Archdiocese of Cincinnati's new blog is online today.

Kermit once said, “It’s not easy being green.” Such is no longer the case. Green is “in.” Green is hip. Green is as convenient as purchasing the cloth grocery bag, conveniently located right next to the convenient scan-it-yourself aisle. Green is available at farmer’s markets and specialty stores and even regular grocery stores. Green is loudly touted by the media, by the teachers, by the government.

But, you know what’s not easy? It’s not easy being a woman.

This thought struck me as I opened a new bag of bread on Monday morning. As I untwisted the tie, I realized that staring back at me was a bikini-clad beach volleyball player. My first thought wasn’t about how many crunches I would have to do to try to look like her. Instead my first thought was, “Poor woman!” Here she is living as an athlete, and a view of her body that only her husband should see is plastered on plastic bags holding bread. Men, women and children throughout the country are being treated to her body while they make their daily sandwich, and her dignity, her mystery, her treasure is completely disregarded.

I managed to swallow my sandwich before heading back to my computer. Good thing too, because I next came across this story about a new app that tells its users about nearby women. The app, “Girls Around Me,” is in a bit of trouble for not seeking permission to share information from Foursquare and Facebook to alert men as to what women may be within reach.

Some may read these stories and rightly cry, “Objectification!” But sadly, many, many women view these as compliments. Many women today find their sole value in how they look, what they wear, how many catcalls they hear as they walk to their school or their place of employment. There is a lost sense of sacredness.

It’s why we see women of all ages running errands in tank tops and spandex. It’s why there is such a sense of competition between women regarding their clothes, makeup and hair. It’s why we view our treasure as our salary, our GPA, our ability to be Superwoman, instead of as being a precious daughter of God.

Read the rest on Being Catholic.

Pretty vs. Hot

Pat Archbold has some thoughts about the death of pretty in today's culture:

Young women today do not seem to aspire to pretty, they prefer to be regarded as hot. Hotness is something altogether different. When women want to be hot instead of pretty, they must view themselves in a certain way and consequently men view them differently as well.

As I said, pretty inspires men’s nobler instincts to protect and defend. Pretty is cherished. Hotness, on the other hand, is a commodity. Its value is temporary and must be used. It is a consumable.

Read more: http://www.ncregister.com/blog/the-death-of-pretty#ixzz1izhMd210.

Real faces, fake bodies

Apparently H&M has used computer-generated bodies to model their swimsuits (and perhaps other clothing). They photoshop a real face on to the fake body, and -- voila! -- they can market clothes.

But what impossible standard does this set for women today? That we can look at a fake body that looks real and entertain impossible ideas of looking like that? Does this tell us that no matter what we look like it, it just can't be good enough? That even models aren't good enough, so just by this sweater or dress to stuff the feelings of inadequacy for awhile -- not to look good but to forget our inability to be beautiful?

I just visited the H&M website and was unnerved by the eeriness of seeing fictitious bodies matched with real-life faces. It is almost as if it were another form of attempting to create a human or a hybrid or some sort of person-like entity.

And perhaps the strangest thing is that these bodies look rather real. We could flip through the pages of a magazine and have no idea that we are passing through pages of computer-generated unreality. It goes to show that reality is not always what we think it is. Authentic beauty isn't either.

A "yes" to the dress is a yes to what?

A friend sent me this blog post, "How Wedding Dresses Transform Women." It's not from a Catholic blog, nor is it from an authentic femininity-minded magazine. It's from the often-inappropriate Huffington Post.

So, it's a bit of a surprise to read such a beautiful depiction of one woman's experience with brides-to-be. She begins with women who are merely going through the motions, who would like to just wear a white pant suit, slip on the ring, ready to return to business executive life as usual.

But the author has noticed something fascinating:

I am always amazed by these women! I usually respond that I have no pantsuits available, and that they should try a narrow and simple dress. I am not sure how this happens but when a woman tries on my dresses, she is immediately transfigured. It may be due to the whiteness of the fabric, or the definition of her body through the silhouette of the dress, and the natural flow of the expensive silk brushing against her legs as she moves. She tries her first dress on and is shocked by her own beauty. She begins to trust me. I suggest the same shape in lace, and she marvels at how skinny she looks and wonders at the many years she has professionally hidden herself in cashmere and heavy black tights. Bit by bit we inch our way into curiously trying on larger dresses and in one courageous statement she squeaks, "Can we try a veil?" The moment a veil is placed on her head she begins to cry, and then to sob.

It is the abandoned dream and vision of herself that was once forgotten somewhere between the divorce of her parents, high school exams, and her first broken heart. It is the internal struggle of regrets versus survival and that suddenly in the mirror a vision of herself looking like she is in love, and looking like she is vulnerable, and even giddy with joy makes her uncomfortable. It is a woman that she does not know. It is the woman she used to be, even as a little girl.

As a child, she would dream of being in love. Images from Disney movies, ballet, music, and TV convinced her some gallant man would profess his indisputable love for her and then confirm his aching desire to spend eternity with her in a perfect wedding.

I think that these thoughts are quite typical of young girls. They dream of being coveted, and they dream of being a princess. As little girls become teens and young women, often their princess fantasies are stamped out and substituted by professional protocol, and corporate culture. They have to fight for themselves to get ahead and protect themselves. They are taught not to rely on others, especially men. Reality and dashed expectations have given them a somewhat hard edge.

It's amazing to listen to the experience of designer Justina McCaffery in her wedding dress consultations. Is there any other piece of clothing that can evoke such a powerful surge of memories, dreams, hopes and ideals? Read the rest of the story here.

And the most attractive thing is ...

... according to Kevin Lowry from Grateful Convert, it's feminine holiness. Find out why he thinks many eighty year old women are the most beautiful by reading his article.

Pope explains how to find God in art

"A Reflection on Beauty"

Jennifer Hartline recently penned her thoughts about cultivating the beauty of women.

Here's a glimpse:

This is why it pains me so much to see so many women in our culture behaving so crudely. Women seem to be losing all gentility and grace, choosing instead to be crass, vulgar, immodest, and unkempt. A man behaving badly is boorish, perhaps even savage. A woman behaving badly is just plain ugly. They are profaning the glorious gift of beauty God gave them. A flower should never be covered in dung.

Read it all here.

"Mommy, I'm fat"

So, what does our world teach little six year old girls about their value, worth and beauty? What do moms teach their daughters when they obsess over eating a second brownie or complain of needing to work out more frequently? How does the culture train young women -- very, very young women -- to view themselves as imperfect, less-than and unloveable whenever they turn to a mirror or to the often more cruel "mirror" of another person? Where are we living when 50% of 3-6 year old girls in a survey worry about being fat?

Well, this might tell us something we don't want to know:

Hmmm, apparently the clip below is not working, so just click here to watch the video.

Jason Evert - Modesty and Romance

Reasons for modesty

Marcel LeJeune provides a wonderful list of "Top 10 Reasons Women Should Dress Modestly."

Here are the first five:

10 - Modesty reflects an understanding of who a woman truly is.
Modesty starts inside a person's heart and mind. Who am I? Why do I exist? If a woman answers she is a beautiful daughter of God, then modesty will naturally follow.


9 - Modesty isn't about dressing in unattractive clothes as some think it is.
There are too many options in clothing to not give modesty a try. Yes, it might not be the first thing on the rack you go shopping for, but it is worth finding clothing that brings out a woman's beauty without revealing too much.


8 - Modesty attracts the kind of guys you ought to want to attract.
If a woman is afraid that she must turn a man's eye by dressing immodestly, then she should ask herself just what kind of guy does she want to attract?


7 - Mary dressed modestly.
Truly there is no more beautiful woman who ever lived than Mary. Why wouldn't any woman want to be more like her?


6 - It helps protect women.
A woman can still dress to be beautiful, but the mystery of a woman's body is protected from being used. Modesty provides a needed defense against usage.

But you'll need to head over to Aggie Catholics to read the rest.

If we don't have time for beauty, do we really live?

Marcel LeJeune recently reflected on a social experiment conducted by the Washington Post a few years ago. Joshua Bell, a world-renowned violinist, took his $3.5 million violin and played for 43 minutes at a busy Metro stop in Washington, DC, during the morning rush hour. During that time, 1,097 people passed by. Only seven people stopped to listen.

The rather lengthy article chronicling the experiment was fascinating, yet almost painful to read. Here is a man who is considered extraordinarily talented – even “genius” in his musical abilities, and yet people were too busy to take notice. People were too busy to take a moment to appreciate the beauty. People were too busy to reflect for a moment, to disengage from their morning monotony.




Perhaps the article was all the more painful for me to read because I lived in Washington, DC, for two years. I passed by many street musicians in the hurried world of the Metro. Many times they made me smile, but did they ever know that I appreciated what they were giving?

I do recall one Sunday morning in particular. I was sitting outside on a beautiful day, sipping my Starbucks and reading theology, when a young man and woman began playing and singing feet away from me. It was beautiful. I remember being struck by their talent and by the gift of hearing music that I hadn’t requested or turned on with my iPod – a gratuitous soundtrack as I labored with von Balthasar or de Lubac or Aristotle or whoever I was attempting to understand at the moment. And I remember debating with myself whether or not to give them money. It was so beautiful, and it was so appreciated, that I wanted to say, “Thank you,” and a small tip was all I really knew how to do. I can’t remember if I ever worked up the courage to place a few dollars in the violin case (though I think that I eventually did).

But all of this circled through my mind as I read about busy commuters of the District, who were set on the agenda of their day with no room for rest, reflection or receiving beauty.

Somewhere in the midst of reading, I considered how much different it would be for a child to encounter Joshua Bell. I thought of how children would stop and appreciate and just be, without the pressure of the day, without worrying about getting to work late, without fighting through the crowds, pushing anyone who dared not walk briskly on the left side of the escalator.

And then I read this:

A couple of minutes into it, something revealing happens. A woman and her preschooler emerge from the escalator. The woman is walking briskly and, therefore, so is the child. She's got his hand.

"I had a time crunch," recalls Sheron Parker, an IT director for a federal agency. "I had an 8:30 training class, and first I had to rush Evvie off to his teacher, then rush back to work, then to the training facility in the basement."
Evvie is her son, Evan. Evan is 3.

You can see Evan clearly on the video. He's the cute black kid in the parka who keeps twisting around to look at Joshua Bell, as he is being propelled toward the door.

"There was a musician," Parker says, "and my son was intrigued. He wanted to pull over and listen, but I was rushed for time."
So Parker does what she has to do. She deftly moves her body between Evan's and Bell's, cutting off her son's line of sight. As they exit the arcade, Evan can still be seen craning to look. When Parker is told what she walked out on, she laughs.
"Evan is very smart!"

The poet Billy Collins once laughingly observed that all babies are born with a knowledge of poetry, because the lub-dub of the mother's heart is in iambic meter. Then, Collins said, life slowly starts to choke the poetry out of us. It may be true with music, too.

There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding. Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three groups. But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away.

So, it would seem that childhood and beauty go hand in hand. Children are so much more perceptive of the beautiful, appreciative of the beautiful and willing to take a few moments to truly enjoy the beautiful. Adults are too busy, too jaded, too preoccupied. How do we think we have reached maturity and understanding when we fail to truly live in the world around us?

Then there was this dramatic irony:

And then there was Calvin Myint. Myint works for the General Services Administration. He got to the top of the escalator, turned right and headed out a door to the street. A few hours later, he had no memory that there had been a musician anywhere in sight.

"Where was he, in relation to me?"

"About four feet away."

"Oh."

There's nothing wrong with Myint's hearing. He had buds in his ear. He was listening to his iPod.

For many of us, the explosion in technology has perversely limited, not expanded, our exposure to new experiences. Increasingly, we get our news from sources that think as we already do. And with iPods, we hear what we already know; we program our own playlists.

The song that Calvin Myint was listening to was "Just Like Heaven," by the British rock band The Cure. It's a terrific song, actually. The meaning is a little opaque, and the Web is filled with earnest efforts to deconstruct it. Many are far-fetched, but some are right on point: It's about a tragic emotional disconnect. A man has found the woman of his dreams but can't express the depth of his feeling for her until she's gone. It's about failing to see the beauty of what's plainly in front of your eyes.

What kind of world do we create for ourselves, instead of enjoying the one we have been given? How different would our lives be if we cultivated an awareness of beauty?

As I reflected back in January, how different would our world be if we took the time to savor the beauty that has been given to us and allowed it to transform our culture?

I think the reason the article from the Washington Post was most unsettling was that it presented me with an unanswerable question: What would I have done if I walked by the Metro when Joshua Bell was playing? Do I perceive and appreciate unexpected beauty, or do I merely write about it?

"This is absolutely disturbing."

It's interesting that my reaction to this clip on Fox News is the words of one of the interviewees. First, let me explain ...

A police officer in Toronto, quoted as saying, "Women can avoid rape by not dressing like sluts" and subsequent "Slut walks" were the occasion for a little chat about modesty on Sean Hannity's program. All participants in the debate agreed that rape is never the fault of the victim. The question on the table, however, was whether or not women can reduce their risk of abuse and rape, and if so, whether or not choices in dress can be a factor.

The two women facing off were Tamara Holder, a Fox news contributor, who sported a plunging neckline and a rather angry demeanor. Rebecca St. James, well-known in Christian circles for her song, "Wait for Me," had a more conservative, though attractive, outfit, and seemed to be operating from a sphere of peacefulness and joy, which perhaps spoke louder than her words.

A couple of segments that found my mouth on the floor:

Rebecca St. James: "There has to be a responsibility for what the woman is wearing ... personal responsibility. [...] Purity and modesty go hand in hand. I think when a woman is dressing in an immodest way, a provocative way, she's got to think about what is she saying by her dress, because to a lot of guys -- and I just wrote another book about it called, What Is He Thinking, I interviewed these guys and they're saying ..."

Sean Hannity: "One of them is me."

Tamara Holder: "This is absolutely disturbing."

Later in the interview:

Rebecca St. James: "Tamara, I mean, what are women saying by dressing provocatively? I mean, I think they're saying, 'I'm easy. I'm asking you to look at me as a sexual object, rather than a woman worthy of respect.' And I think women who are marching and saying, 'I should be able to wear whatever I want' ..."

Tamara Holder: "There is nothing wrong with looking like a sexual object."

I suppose these words can only be truly horrifying to those who understand what they truly mean. In other words, Tamara Holder cannot possibly know what she is saying, or she could never say it. In effect, she would be saying, "I am not a woman. I am not a person. I am an animal, an object. I do not need to be loved or to love. There is nothing wrong with using me or with me using others." And the irony of this logic is that it undermines the first reason these two women were on the show -- to acknowledge that women should not be used, abused or raped. But to say, "There is nothing wrong with looking like a sexual object," is to say there is nothing wrong with being perceived as a sexual object, which is really to say there is nothing about my dignity as a human person that should preclude me from being treated like a sexual object.

Interestingly, I think the whole argument of whether or not rape is wrong stands on this ground -- am I an object or am I a person? If I am an object, then I can be used as a tool to satisfy someone else's desires. Likewise, I can use others as a means to an end. But if I am a person -- if I have gifts, talents, a history, a personality -- then I can only be treated with love. Nothing else befits my dignity. And therefore, rape, abuse or using of any sort can never be justified.

So maybe arguments about the necessity or not of modesty are much more integral to the question of how women should be treated than many will concede. If we look at modesty as a constricting command to hide inside a potato sack, then we aren't understanding the gift that it is. If we look at modesty, however, as an opportunity to radiate the truth of who we are in God's image and likeness, as a means of protecting the gift of ourselves and of inspiring love and respect, then modesty can only serve to further defend the incredible dignity of each human person -- never to be used, always to be loved.

Reflecting on skirts

Jennifer Fulwiler recently opined on the good of skirts, though she confesses to being (primarily) a "pants-wearing woman." As a (frequent) skirt-wearing woman, I found her reflections on the message of femininity communicated by (modest) skirts and dresses to be quite interesting. Here's a snippet:

A beautiful dress is a little inefficient. A colorful, flowy skirt is decidedly girly. Both draw a sharp line between the genders. Could we women proclaim some truths of the Faith in the public square with our wardrobe choices alone? Could we add something positive to the world by wearing pretty skirts? To someone with my background it sounds laughable at first, but this idea just might be more powerful than we think. To wear a skirt is to shout the messages that the Communists described in Jung Chang’s book once tried to suppress: that a full life isn’t all about efficiency and work; that men and women are different, and that’s okay; and that femininity is something to be celebrated, not squelched.

Read it all here.

Quote book

"All beauty comes from God, and should point our hearts back toward Him. As a woman, your task is to use this gift to draw the hearts of men toward God, while avoiding the temptation to distract them from Him. Your modesty is a 'ministry of beauty.' Or, in the words of one teenager, 'A woman should be so hidden in Christ that a man has to see Christ just to see her.'" -- Jason and Crystalina Evert in How to Find Your Soulmate Without Losing Your Soul

"Do beautiful churches produce vocations?"

Fr. Dwight Longenecker raises this question in a recent blog post.

The conclusion?

A beautiful church, that required great sacrifice to build, on the other hand--combined with beautiful liturgy and an awesome and reverent worship of God is more likely to inspire the reverence and awe and sacrifice required of our young people who are thinking about a vocation.

This is my theory: sacrifice much to build a beautiful church and you will find that your children will sacrifice much to become the priests, brothers and sisters to fill that church for a next generation.

Read it all here.

Glamour and Grace

Glamour and Grace is a new blog exploring the explosive topic of beauty for young women. It's off to a promising start.

An opening post gives a glimpse to the purpose:

Women are beautiful. All of them. Our beauty is both physical and interior to different extents. You are born with your looks but inner beauty (goodness, grace, virtue, and character) is practiced. It takes work. Physical beauty is captivating. It draws people in. Interior beauty is compelling. It moves people’s hearts. In other words, this beauty we have is powerful. It can change the course of a person’s life. Beauty causes people to want to know us, to like the thinks we like and to love the things we love. Most of all, our beauty makes others want to be loved by us.

Beauty gives us profound influence for good or for bad. Friends influence each-other all the time. Why? They see something attractive in the other person and they want to be like them.

Browse through the “stories” that are attached to this tab. Think about the women whose stories are told. Each woman has a great deal of physical beauty. Not all of these women, however, exhibit inner beauty. Consider each woman. Who does she love most in the world? Does she use her beauty selfishly or generously? Does her use of beauty affect how other people act? How do we see her in light of her actions? Do her actions add to or detract from how beautiful she appears to us? You might be surprised. A little selfishness does a lot of damage to a pretty face. A little character goes a long way in forming a beautiful image.

Read more here.