career choices in a parallel universe

Originally posted here, September 5, 2008

I have never given screenwriting a try, and I strongly suspect that if I did I would discover I had exactly zero talent for it. But if there is another Isabel in another universe whose genetic makeup and life path has led her to be a gifted screenwriter, I hope some day she writes a movie with a reverse makeover.

I’m so tired of prettiness being put on a pedestal. I’m tired of girls discovering their inner women through make-up and clothes that flaunt their whatever. I want a movie to start with a girl who already does all that shit, who knows what eyeshadow complements her complexion and what patterns are in this year and how to walk in heels. And something happens. Maybe someone betrays her. Maybe she makes a new friend. Maybe she discovers feminist blogs or zines or books or her own sexuality. Maybe she just gets tired.

And then the familiar part: the montage. I was considering replacing the usual peppy music with angry music, but you know what? This can be peppy too. She chops off all her hair, not for a new sexy kicky ‘do but because she doesn’t give a shit anymore. She buys a pair of sneakers. She stops shaving and goes out in public wearing shorts. She cuts her nails short and lets the polish chip. She rummages through her fridge and throws out everything labeled “diet.” She stops her regular eyebrow plucking appointments. She doesn’t buy a whole new wardrobe, because that takes disposable income she doesn’t have, but she wears T-shirts more often and drops the jeans she needs to lie down to wiggle into off at the Salvation Army. She exchanges her push-up bras for camisoles. She stops obsessing over the gym

And at the end? Maybe she gets the guy. Maybe she gets the girl. Maybe she doesn’t get anyone and she’s happy about that. Maybe she makes new friends, maybe she loses old friends, maybe it doesn’t matter to anyone but her and that’s okay too. She’s happy, pretty much. But she’s not afraid of getting pissed off or sad or freaked out. Maybe at the end of it all, she decides to keep the short hair but grow back to manicures because they’re fun. Maybe she keeps her nails short but starts wearing jewelry again because it makes her smile. Maybe she takes up jogging because it clears her head. Maybe the movie ends with a shot of her alone, content, on her way to do something, or meet someone, or just enjoying the fresh air.

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Posted in daydreams, feminism