There has been quite the controversy surrounding E! Fashion Police's Giuliana Rancic's recent comments about Zendaya's faux locs at this year's Oscars. (The story can be viewed here.)
I keep replaying "I feel like she smells like patchouli oil...or weed," trying to figure out why she thought the comment would be acceptable; and why she couldn't recognize the many fouls in this comment before she parted her lips to express it.
Giulliana's distasteful comment is the very thing that's affecting the perception of beauty amongst women. We're constantly looked at and devalued by our appearance. We see countless articles of women being denied jobs, taken out of school or not dated, because we don't look how someone expects us to. We're told we're not pretty enough, our hair isn't 'good' enough, our clothes aren't expensive enough. We're told that because our views of beauty are not the 'standard', they should not be allowed. We're broken down by rules and guidelines created by society and when we're comfortable enough to reject conformity, we're insulted.
We spend too much time searching for ourselves, identifying our identities and becoming comfortable with our "look" for us to be hurt by our decision to go against the grain. We fight too hard for ourselves, our expression and our beliefs to change them all due to someone else's disagreement. We spend too much of our own money finding ways to make ourselves happy, investing in our futures and purchasing things we like, to throw them away at the first sign of disproval. The one thing that comes from Giuliana's comment, is the acknowledgement that Giuliana's comment does not matter.
I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, I AM COMFORTABLE IN MY SKIN AND THAT IS WHAT I CHOOSE TO WEAR.
I am okay with the kinks of my new growth occupying the nape of my neck. I am comfortable with how my blemishes add character to my otherwise subtle cheekbones. I am happy to pair my new $22 thrifted dress with my 8 Alex & Ani bracelets for a night on the town. The shoes you hate, I love, and I'll wear them to the annual cookout you invited me to just so I can see you cringe.
IF MY COMFORT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, THAT IS YOUR OWN PROBLEM.
There is no definition of beauty that anyone can impress upon me that'll make me abandon my own. I am comfortable smelling like 'patchouli oil. Or weed.' Or the vanilla and lilac scent I just lit in my queendom. I am comfortable with myself, and there's no comment that can take that away.
Find comfort in your existence. Find comfort in your beauty.
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