What fresh hell is this? My mother, a DC psychotherapist who moonlights in guidance counseling the middle schoolers at a private school and somehow convinced them to let her teach a health class, is always telling me about her lesson plans -- and this one seems to to be the most questionable yet. Name a body flaw and walk down a runway with it? PAUSE.
When I was 13 I would NOT have liked my mom taking my eyebrow problems to the stage, but truth be told, it was sort of par the course for me and my sister in the Marnell household, where our physical appearances were discussed in earnest by our ex-anorexic mother with anyone who would listen. She just wanted the best for us, mom would argue now, and by the best I suppose she meant compulsive face picking and years upon years of gory, sugary cereal-centric bulimia (check and check).
We have since forgiven my mother, mainly because we all agree that bitch is crazy! No, because we sympathize with her recent divorce. No, because we want some of her suspiciously lucrative alimony settlement from my hotshot psychiatrist dad! No, because our grandma makes us be nice to our mom in order to get money. No, because we love her!!! Truthfully, I don't even know. Imagine all of these options overlapping in a beautiful lotus-like Venn diagram, and the answer lies therein.
Anyway, I looked up this "Operation Beautiful," and it seems that maybe my mom just, uh, misunderstood the project, which according to its tagline aspires to transform the way we see ourselves "one Post-It at a time." You know, you leave a nice note for someone to improve their body image or something! Examples below:
OK, now read my mom's interpretation of the project again :
Yeah, I'm thinking that if I'm 12 years old, not only is one of those things not like the other, one of those things is gonna make you feel completely TERRIBLE. Operation Suicidal!
Unless I'm understanding the merits of such a fashion show, and maybe I am. What do you guys think? I am quick to judge my mom so it's not like I researched this thing much or whatever. (JOURNALISM.)
P.S. I love you, Mom. You're so special! Don't be mad at me.
P.P.S. (Duh, I'm in trouble already; and by trouble it means my mom is crying. The scariest moms manipulate with their tears!)