wuh, wuh, wilhemina
NoWareGirl circa 1979
Butterflies in the stomach. Go away! She was so excited that morning as she pressed her emaciated, prepubescent body against the old, hollow, wooden door. Standing rigid and wearing her favorite fruit-striped-gum colored, terry cloth bikini, NoWareGirl posed for the picture she was sure would change her life.
…Unless it was on the pages of a fashion magazine named Seventeen. She didn’t know any better. NoWareGirl had wanted that subscription so badly she had begged for it. And now that she’d gotten it, each new issue that arrived on her doorstep was eagerly anticipated. Each one was a lesson in how to be un-like all the other girls in her neighborhood. A chance to escape her ordinary life.
If they said the “50′s” look was in, NoWare wore her hair high in a ponytail with a grosgrain ribbon tied around it and a cardigan sweater. THAT DAY. Even if no one in her class would dare be caught dead wearing it. Orange nail polish? No problem. She’d just walk 3 blocks to the drugstore on the corner and see what they had. It didn’t even deter her when a teacher made fun of her nails. So what? What do they know? she thought.
So when her favorite magazine announced that they would be holding a model search contest, she knew it was her calling. The prize? Her face on the cover of Seventeen and a contract with Wilhemina Modeling Agency! “You can be anything you want to be”, crooned her mother. “You can do anything anyone else can do”, was what she’d heard all her young life. But that wasn’t true at all. Why hadn’t her mother just told her the truth?
NoWareGirl wasn’t right for this contest. She was too short, too young, and too imperfect. She had buck teeth and no braces, but that was the least of her worries. At that moment, she was still blissfully unaware of how abnormal she was. Missing toes, missing fingers, two different sized feet and two differently shaped legs. It wasn’t her fault she looked like that. And she didn’t yet realize that she’d never measure up to the world’s ideal of beauty because of it. But it was too late. She was already caught up in a world that eats even “perfect” young girls alive.
CLICK! flashed the little square bulb. And it was done. In a week’s time photographic proof of her imperfection would return. Surely she would see it then?
But no. Upon its return from being developed she dutifully wrote her name, age and measurements on the back and hastily mailed it away.
Any day she thought…the phone will ring or that letter will come…
I am always amazed, as a handicapped person myself, the degree of self-esteem issues we face on a daily basis. Even with 30+ years in therapy, I can still take the high dive off the short pier at the drop of a hat. As a clubby myself, I grew up being reminded daily, sometimes hourly, that I would “never be able to….” fill in the blanks. My first desire I recall as a child was to be an astronaut. Until some little creep at school told me that “cripples can’t be an astronaut, stupid.” Fun kid.
Anyway, I like your writing, your skepticism, and your over-all sensibility – stay strong.
And I have a few things to offer re: that pesky Achilles – get in touch. You know where, NoWareGirl!
Notumbo - February 4, 2011 at 12:07 am |
I see you are big on word play Notumbo. I like that :)
Like you I have had many years of therapy. One would assume that after SO MUCH therapy we would be “fixed” by now, but that is obviously not the case. The human psyche is very complex and I believe almost infinitely mysterious. I will never understand why, when I have so much else to offer, I am so hung up on a physical imperfection that is relatively unseen by the masses. It has literally formed and shaped my personality like the Colorado did the Grand Canyon. Erosion at its best. Cutting away at my self-esteem little by little over the years creating this void that has yet to be filled.
I will always, as you suggest, stay strong. We all have our weak moments, but thank God, they are only “moments.”
I look forward to staying in touch…
nowaregirl - February 4, 2011 at 7:16 am |