Definition of Beauty
I'll tell you right now, without inhibition, the definitive trait I use to judge woman's appearances. The golden spot, the one that grabs my attention, is the eyebrows. Yes, contrary to the now classic Seinfeld line delivered by George Costanza (I still can't believe that ended over a decade ago), I put a lot of value in those two simple lines above the eyes.
Keep in mind, I'm far from normal -- I guess I don't need to really add anything after that, since that unfinished statement sums me up rather nicely, but affixing "when it comes to judging appearances" wouldn't hurt. Specifity and all. Unfortunately, I have an artist's eyes. I may not have their talent or hands, but I definitely have their vision. I swallow people upon sight, dissecting them down to the finest detail of what builds their person like a deranged psychopath with a machete. I mean that metaphorically, now. It was in the literal sense only once. ... Okay, twice.
Now, I'm a tough judge, but I also pretty much have no standards. While that may seem contradictive, it's actually since it refers to two different things. It's quite difficult for me to not find a woman attractive. The fairer sex is pretty much all good barring something like a beard, some hideous deformity, or a resemblance to a man or animal. In that respect, I'm indiscriminatory. However, if gauging actual beauty, well then, folks, you're outta luck. I'll pick and belittle the minutest flaws that should be unnoticeable. Do I really care about them? No, but they're there, and when being held up to statuesque and impossible standards, there's no room for any error.
But, I'm not here today to banter on off-center faces or flabby upper arms. I'm strictly speaking on my less biased, more general thumb up/down on women's appearance. We all do it, and why shouldn't we? If women didn't want to be objectified, they wouldn't wear jeans that were two sizes too small, exposed underwear, and low necklines. Call it trashy, call it "empowering", I still call it "a big distraction when riding my bike in the summer". You can replace "big" with "awesome" if you'd like. Best wreck ever!
What was I going on about? Oh, right. Eyebrows... I'll get back to those. Now, being as it is that I'm some horrible abomination of nature/prank by a higher power, it stands to assumption that I'm not the kind who goes for blonde bombshells. It has less to with the actual hair color and figure than it does what they represent -- complete artificial vanity. Unless visiting Norway, the blondes are probably bottled. They're invisible to me at this point. It used to be that fair hair was a rare feature that stood out among a crowd, but now so many people bleach their scalps that they are the crowd. I actually knew a natural blonde once, a sweet girl, too. Home got smashed in my Katrina. 'Member that? Anyhoo, she died her hair red. Why? 'Cuz she didn't want to look like everyone else who jumped to her real color. Also, she was Irish, so it sorta worked out.
That same blonde blindness filter is what I do with eyebrows. Women pluck and trim those suckers for hours, maybe days, over their life time. It's a labor of vanity, and for what? Who cares about eyebrows? Men don't look at them. Know who does? I'll tell you. I'm getting to it right now. Really. No more delays. Here it is: women.
Women care more about what other women look like than men do. What can I say? We're pretty much all pigs. Other dames are, however, the most vicious judge of what other women look like. All the upkeep and high maintenance is really to keep up appearances for their friends/rivals/whatever women have, I don't know. All of this stemmed from a single incident back in, probably, 2005. I think the folks were walking The Tonight Show and the guest was an actress from one of those many Lost inspired sci-fi shows that flopped quickly. I want to say it was Surface but it could have been Threshold, and both apparently had a leading female. I just remember my mother's disgust at the guest, claiming how she really needed to trim those eyebrows. I took one look at her and saw no problem. And that's when a new weird key note was made for me.
I fixate on the weirdest things. I don't idealize things as much as I am interested in concepts. For example, the meaning behind an appearance carries more value than the actual look itself. Years ago, I read someone proudly saying how all genes for red hair came from the Vikings, who dropped the trait off on Ireland and such while, I guess, going to America before Columbus. Since the chick was a redhead herself, she was proud of this fact. It meant nothing to me, but ever so slowly, the previously no-more attention-grabbing than anyone else to me crimson crowned really began to stand out. That awesome association at least gives one a plus two to their charisma score.
Much the same, eyebrows began to stand out to me. The dark, unplucked bands were a beacon to utter lack of vanity within an individual. Pruning, grooming, and drawing them makes a woman look like a freak. Of all the places were hair should be allowed to "go natural", seated above the eye is definately a top choice. It just says, "Hey, I know I'm hot. Ain't gotta do nothing to this." And they're right.
Of course, unibrows are still fugly. I mean, c'mon. Gross.