Dove’s latest Real Beauty campaign has been making its way around the media and my Facebook page. In it, a police sketch artist draws women as they describe themselves, and then as other people describe them. The latter sketch is better-looking than the former, a heartwarming affirmation that we always see ourselves worse than other people see us.
While Mr. B and I were in New Orleans, it was cold. Super-cold. Cold enough that we hadn’t planned for it. Isn’t the South always supposed to be perma-warm like that spot on the floor that always gets the sun?
Long story short, we had to buy clothes on vacation.
First things first. Oh, the irony:
Then, for five seconds, this was an option:
Until I realized I had become every woman I see at the Russian store. And I became terrified.
Why do Russian women love fur? What is it that brings out the fur coats, the fur collars, the leather? And why do American women hate them?