The endless trap of always having to make oneself look pretty

I've always dressed my own way. After my street style phase (low-rise baggy pants and unlaced sneakers), came the emo phase, followed by the metalhead phase. During high school, my wardrobe was dominated by a mix of seemingly opposite things, from a Moncler puffer jacket to Cult combat boots, the ones with the steel toe. Later on, I went through the athleisurewear phase (thanks to Kylie Jenner), the oversized/menswear phase, the pseudo-cottagecore phase, and so on. Throughout all these changes and experiments, I kept hearing the same phrase from people around me, especially older ones: "Why don't you want to look pretty?" To me, this plea—almost a desperate request—was (and still is) a demand for obedience, a demand to submit to dominant beauty standards that I’m not sure I want to conform to.

What does "make oneself look pretty" mean for a woman?

I might be a stubborn contrarian, but really, if we think about it, what does it mean for a woman to make herself look pretty? If she’s thin, it means emphasizing her thinness; if she’s fat, it means hiding her body. It means highlighting what is perceived as an asset for a woman (full lips, long lashes, a small waist, and long legs— all social signifiers of sexual availability) while concealing what is perceived as a flaw (thin lips, small or deep-set eyes, short legs, thick ankles, broad shoulders, or anything associated with aging or masculinity). In short, it means making oneself as attractive as possible to the male gaze, which wants us smooth and rosy like teenage girls—forever. Cover-girl dolls, uncomfortable and under pressure, fixing our skirts and lipstick, checking that our hair is voluminous enough, limping in high heels. So much so that often, the power of look pretty is celebrated by women themselves, competing with friends, colleagues, and rivals. All for male attention. Even unconsciously.

What if we dressed to express rather than to be traditionally attractive?

With this in mind, the only option is to reject the concept of prettiness when it’s tied to hypersexualized and submissive standards dictated by the male gaze, which is patriarchal to its core. It’s time to rethink attraction—what it really means to feel comfortable in our skin, in our clothes, in our makeup. And if the answer is: by performing femininity, then so be it, but with a new awareness. And for everyone else—why not dress to express? Why not experiment to find out what we truly like (for ourselves, maybe for our friends) and what we don’t? What communicates with the outside world, what helps us express who we are, what our passions and values are. A society built on appearances, when it frees itself from the power dynamics between genders, could actually be used to our advantage—to customize the character we present to the world. To make it say something different than just: "I’m available." Not always, but at least sometimes.