The Average Woman’s Manifesto
I hereby, from this day forth, do solemnly declare that I will work hard to release myself from the consumerist, capitalist construct of the “ideal” female form. I will work to undo the years of commercial programming and mental abuse that have taught me, since age 6, that my body is a work in progress rather than another beautiful work of God’s creation. I will study the beauty industry and its aim to deceive men and women into thinking that youth is eternal, beauty is merely physical and that character, integrity and compassion are secondary virtues. I will teach others, particularly young men and women, that computers and advanced cosmetic technology can alter a woman to such a degree that she is barely recognizable from her original, unaltered self.
I will show others that the industry is not about enhancement but deception. If you can change the color of a model’s eyes, trim off weight from her waist, make her lips and breasts fuller, shrink her nose and raise her cheekbones—what else can this be other than the biggest lie ever sold? What else could this be but a violent act and the weapons of choice are a cameraman’s lens, a graphic designer’s program and our silent complicity?
I will lose weight to improve my health and well being. I will NOT lose weight to fulfill Hollywood’s notions of thiness. I will NOT choose an actress-sex kitten-goddess from the patheon of celebrities to worship and to berate myself for falling so short of her glory. I will teach others, especially the children, that Hollywood is the land of make believe. Everything is an altered prop to give the illusion of reality. I will teach them, the children I mean, that at the end of the day all those glamour gods put their pants on one leg at a time just like we do. And for all their wealth and talents, it still does not protect the Hollywood elite from self-destructive behaviors caused by low self esteem and depression.
I refuse to stay with a man who compares me to those artifical women of the silver screen, who in theory, do not exist. I will not let a man shove pictures of cosmetically modified women into my face and ask me, “Why don’t you look like that?” I will try to convince him, if possible, that real women have pimples, stretchmarks, dimples (in the non-cute areas) and, I can say it?...flesh! Real, soft, human flesh! And yeah, that model all straddled about on the car she’s selling, was a real woman, too, until they altered her.
I will remember that just a century ago, women were allowed to be different shapes and sizes. And while life was not ideal and women’s struggle for equality still had a long way to go, at least…at least, we didn’t have to deal with this beast that seeks to make us into carbon copies of some unattainable, elusive (usually blonde and blue eyed) sex goddess. I will speak of the days when round, curvy women were idolized in the paintings of Courbet, Degas and Picasso. The halls of the great European museums still display these plump women, these well-fed queens, in all their nude glory. Ancient poems and ancient scripture spoke of women with domed bellies and arms as fleshy and as full as the love they strove to give.
It is to the average woman that these people—the CEOs, the advertisers, and the designers must submit. We—the flabby, dimpled-leg, freckled, bony-butt, one eye looks bigger than the other, “oh why can’t I look like so-and-so” masses—are the majority. We are misshaped, lumpy, curvy, ashy, split-end havin’ females of the world. We have jobs, children and dreams. We can’t afford the mental and monetary anguish of looking perfect 24 hours a day. We can make, break and remake the beauty industry.
Virginia Wolf once wrote that she had to destroy the angel in the house. We, the regular imperfect masses of more than half this humanity, must do as the Prophet (alayhi salatu wa salaam) did. We must purify our mental Kaabas and destroy the evil goddess within. It’s time to bash and break the cultural and intellectual idols of the Self with the righteous staff of reality.
Ladies, love yourselves.
You are women, and verily, God loves women.
Girls, your potential is not skin deep. It runs right down to the bone.
There’s nothing wrong with a little make-up or a cute dress to please the man you love.
But let’s make beautification an outward and inner practice.
By the way, have a slice of cake. You deserve it! 
