This Is My, Ummh, Body

My new favorite blog, Dealing in Subterfuges, had a really interesting about how people portray their bodies on their blog (this is way oversimplifying her post, but I’m not at my most coherent today). I began to think about this, and I realized that I have revealed very little about my physical self, other than my desire to lose a few pounds and the fact that I do not weigh 224 pounds. I don’t have a photo of myself on my blog. Obviously, I’m not totally anonymous, but not having a photo keeps me from being completely out there. I think there are one or two photos of me floating around on other people’s blogs from blogger happy hours, but you would really have to search for them, and if I’m too lazy to do that, it’s unlikely the casual reader will bother. I do have photos on my Friendster and Myspace profiles. It seems kind of pointless not to have them, and it helps people recognize my profiles (like my extremely unusual name doesn’t give it away). And the photo I have on both profiles is a really good one, like one of my favorite photos ever, so it would be cruel not to share it with the world (sadly, said photo has brought me some requests for nude pics of myself. Seeing as about 30% of the people on Myspace have already posted scantily clad pics, I can’t imagine why you would need to see mine.). But on the blog, I suppose I want it just to be about the words.

I can’t say that I have made an effort not to write about my appearance; for the most part, it just hasn’t come up except in the context of my working out a lot recently. For the record, my physical appearance is what you could term “reasonable attractive.” This sounds like I am hedging my bets, but I’m trying to be honest and fair here. I think I’m decent looking. So does my mom. And the guy I’m marrying. But really, what else can they say? Some people call me “hot”; other people are left cold by me. Beauty is so subjective. Some enjoy the big-mouthed juggsiness of a Jessica Simpson, while others prefer the rather more subtle attractions of a Natalie Portman (you can put me firmly in the latter camp). I am:

--short (5’3)
--quite fair-skinned (skin cancer just waiting to happen, so I wear tons of sunscreen)
blue eyed (like my skin, totally sensitive to light; thanks so much, pasty Northern European ancestors)
--hair is reddish-brown (much more brown at the moment, since I have been lazy about getting it done recently) and curly (I spend a lot of time battling it, particularly in the summer months)
--I have a fairly small frame, my weight is normal and I’m apparently not overweight, although I am not happy with it and have been taking steps to change it (down several pounds already, so that’s actually going well). I was kind of a skinny bobble head type a few years back, so I am still getting used to not being that thin (and no doubt looking much healthier, but it’s hard to break the habit of adhering to the Duchess of Windsor’s code: “You can never be too rich or too thin.”)
--celebrities I have sometimes been told I look like: Elizabeth Taylor, Andie MacDowell, and Vivien Leigh (yes, I realize that these women don’t really look alike. And I don’t necessarily look like any of them. Of the three, I would most like to look like Vivien Leigh.)

So, that’s me in a nutshell. But it’s a vague nutshell. How many shortish, fair, blue-eyed brunettes do you pass on the street every day? I could be anyone. I tend to be a little obsessed with my appearance in real life (e.g., spending way too much time looking at myself in the mirror and asking Lord Kissington a lot of really annoying questions like “Does my upper lip look smaller to you?” or “Do I have more eyelashes on my right eye?”), and I suppose I have embraced my blog as a place where my appearance doesn’t matter. I could be typing this wearing full makeup and a tiara, or I could be unwashed and wearing a bathrobe (neither at the moment, but you’ll never know for sure, will you?). Ultimately, I would like to be known for what I do or produce or create, not what I look like, but it’s hard to let go of the physical.

(This is not me. This is not even a person. Just in case you couldn't tell.)