A recent advertisement calling for entrants to the Miss Hibiscus contest made me start thinking about beauty. Before proceeding further, let me assure you kind readers that I make no pretensions towards beauty myself, I never have, even in my younger days. So please don’t look for pictures of me, taken now or in the past! What are we looking for when we seek a beautiful woman? Is it the light in the eyes, the shape of the nose, the smile? I think a big smile that lights up the whole face and is accompanied by sparkling eyes goes a long way in captivating us.
Then there is the hair. How is it dressed? In olden times a woman’s hair was more naturally presented, before the days of dyes and permanent waves. I grew up being told that my mother had been considered a beauty.
As a teenager her hair flowed to her waist and hung about her shoulders. At twenty she had it cut with a fringe across her forehead. She does not smile in the photo I have and I wonder a little what people admired.
With changing hairstyles and colours I find it confusing and sometimes fail to recognise friends and acquaintances, but then I am poor at facial recognition anyway. I remember an occasion in my childhood when one on my aunts came to visit and was reluctant to take off her hat. Her hair was a violent purple, and she felt so ashamed.
Most women I know use make-up to enhance the good looks of their faces. This is something I do not do having been put off from using lipstick through an incident in my .