How high maintenance is your happiness?

Right before the pandemic I fell into the trap set by beauty standard expectations and got myself some eyelash extensions. To make this sound much cooler than what it actually is, I will describe them as shark teeth. Many sharks have teeth layered in rows, jaws can have up to 15 such rows. Their teeth do not have roots, so they fall easily and may last as little as a week.

These are all true shark facts, by the way.

If it sounds like a bad deal to be constantly losing eyelashes and showing gaps otherwise unnoticeable on natural eyelashes, it’s because it is.

Due to the delicate nature of the glue that’s used, sharks, I mean, humans, can’t wear mascara to deceive the look of pale lashes or gaps and after a week or so you’re stuck with sparse lashes.

The deal is that you get to book an appointment with the salon and have the odd ones left removed before putting in a new set. Doesn’t it sound like a pampering session you didn’t know you needed in your life?

My lash extension experience ended with me coating whatever was left of the expensive mink hair on my eyelids with mascara and calling it a day. I never planned to get them touched up in an endless cycle.

Like a constant reminder that my body is not good enough at sprouting eyeball shields.

Then COVID-19 happened and everyone who got their extension could rock the most basic mask knowing their furry gaze could handle the redirected focus. For the first two weeks.

As for the remaining seven months, well, this is where aesthetic philosophy kicks in.

In a world where all beauty services stop, from nail salons to eyelash extensions, and humanity can only rely on youtube tutorials or natural beauty, will we become more comfortable with our original appearance? Will we learn to maintain the standard of beauty we've put ourselves up to?

Turns out, I come from a place of relatively low maintenance since I am able to upkeep autonomously almost every change I subject my body to.

Except for that time with the lash extension, but we know how that ended.

From an aesthetic philosophy perspective, all man-made methods to enhance our attractiveness with the ultimate sole purpose to procreate, are fair. However, from a moral perspective, I can't help but think it’s a double-cheat!

Imagine the most ideally gorgeous person and all their physical attributes. If those are what we could consider ‘fake’ attributes to hide some aspects of their own natural beauty and health levels from other’s eyes and judgement, that's would be a kind of cheat that, at this point, we're all ok with.

The double-cheat comes in when the person is locked in a house for seven months and is not able to maintain the same level of secondary attributes that make them more desirable than another person. Shall we agree this indicates something deeper than physical appearance, perhaps related to their life ethics? If I considered a specific look or attribute to be necessary -for example: painted nails- and felt fulfilled and accomplished only when nails are painted, shouldn't that be a motivational factor to take my wellbeing in my own hands?

Can we outsource our inner journey to happiness?

If the actual upkeep of something can't be done alone and regularly requires time and money for its completion, is it even worth it? Should it be considered a standard or an exception? Does it enrich anyone's life? Does it represent any value or serves any purpose?  

Is the pandemic showing us for who we really are as people, much deeper than on skin's surface?



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