For a Pessimist, I am Pretty Optimistic

(Inspired by an Emilie Autumn song of the same title)

As a child, I looked frightful (which you can see for yourself). I was too tall, too skinny and, of course, curve less. I had buck teeth (later covered for 5 years with braces), giant glasses that covered a face half hidden by pimples, and my hair was a frizzy un-tamed curly mess. To add insult to injury, I was dressed by my mother who was a huge fan of the worst 80’s fashions. 

It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that I started to grow into my looks, as well as learn to alter them. 8 styling products (along with expensive extensions) were used to turn frizzy strands into smooth waves. The braces were removed, revealing straight rows of teeth. The glasses were replaced with contacts. My constant snacking helped to make curves that filled out in all the right places. 

Do I sound a bit conceited? Of course, but I’m perfectly entitled, especially after the years of teasing I went through! 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s NOT as if I think I look like some high paid foreign model. But I’m not ashamed to say that I clean up really well.  In fact, it’s the times when I “clean up” that my prettiness seems to cause a problem. 

Who would have thought there would be consequences to looking good? Unfortunately, consequences there are. Society sometimes links attractiveness with being unintelligent, lazy, shallow, and sexually loose. You don’t have to have model looks to be thought of as attractive and get stereotyped. All you need is a few pleasant features and voila! Your looks have become an asset and a burden. 

 I’ve looked at prettiness as a double edged sword ever since my first job. I was a cocktail waitress at a busy bar and a patron grabbed my ass while threatening not to leave me a tip if I didn’t go out with him. I complained to the manager, but it was dismissed. According to him, a pretty girl like me just needed to “toughen up” and learn how to handle “real men”. 

At another job I was “let go” because they were over-staffed and I was told “Stupid Patrick hired you only because he hires every pretty thing that shakes her ass at him.” An accusatory glance was given my way, like I jerked the guy off the get the job. 

 I responded “Actually, I emailed my resume and Patrick called me the next day to ask if I could start immediately. No ass shaking was involved, but thanks for the assumption.” 

When I work administrative jobs I actually try to keep myself as plain looking as possible. It’s ridiculous, but the prettier you look, the less serious interviewers think of you. Once I went on a string of interviews and didn’t get a single job. Since I had the appropriate resume, answered the questions correctly, and was in full business attire I was convinced I should have snagged a job already. I boldly asked one interviewer when she was obviously dismissing me what I was doing wrong and she told me “Your hair should be worn up. Loose hair means that you’re a loose woman.”I thought she was crazy, but at my next interview, I wore my hair up and I got the job. Coincidence?

Another problem is that women hate other attractive women, but that’s no secret. Society has been set in such a way that women are constantly in competition with one another whether they choose to be or not. It’s funny how women complain that pretty girls are checked out by guys all the time. Most of the time, we’re being stared down by other women. I can always be assured that if I walk through the subway and get glared at by several girls, then that means my outfit is nice that day. 

Besides glares, prettiness attracts weirdoes like a magnet. I can’t even begin to list the different types of creeps that have come on to me in dangerous ways. Some have come right up to me, some have followed me, and some have shouted at me from a distance. I’ve been chased through train stations, stores, and streets. There was even a time another girl and I were running through subway cars from the same guy. When we reached a crowded car, we sat together and complained about how things like this kept happening to us. To some it might seem like the shallowest conversation ever, but taking public transportation alone, no matter what time of day, is especially dangerous for a pretty girl. 

Mind you, this only happens when I’m dressed nicely, have my hair done, and/or am wearing make-up. If I have my hair in a ponytail, my glasses on, and wear jeans and a sweatshirt, no one takes a second glance at me. 

The worst part about being pretty is that there are always jerks that will hold you accountable if, God forbid, anything terrible happens to you. I’ve unfortunately been in several situations where I was sexually harassed. I heard things such as “Maybe if you weren’t so friendly…”, “Perhaps you shouldn’t have dressed like that…” and “Well, can you blame him?” 

There’s a homeless guy who regularly follows me around certain sections of Penn Station. He doesn’t ask for money or food, he simply keeps asking for a date and tells me how pretty I am. I spoke to a Port Authority officer about him, but guess what? He looked me up and down and chuckled and said that the guy is probably harmless. The cop even said to me “Where are you coming from?” 

“Just work,” I responded. 

“Well dressed like that, it’s no surprise he likes you,” he said. 

I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing pumps, dress pants, and a black turtle neck covered by a coat and scarf. 

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