Dysfunctional Beauty

I own a wonderful black cashmere sweater that zips up the front. It is worn in a way that says homeless. It is soft and cozy and perfect in so many ways, but it is also the ugly sweater at the sweater prom.

I own pretty sweaters too. Expensive and nice sweaters that were purchased from expensive and nice stores. Anytime I get a compliment on them I always say “thank you” as I shiver uncontrollably in the cold. These sweaters do not perform their job well, and in a fair world, they would be fired.

Fair doesn’t exist though and we do not fire pretty things. Beauty is not only an excuse for inadequate, it’s almost a requirement.

I’m a huge fan of the CBS show Survivor. Every season, most of the participants fall into the attractive category. They lay out on the beach, take long naps, braid each other’s hair and giggle a lot. They wear beautiful swimsuits that will, in all likelihood, fail during the challenges. They are carefree throughout an entire season, all the way to the end, because they will not be voted off.

The remaining participants will be hardworking and plain. They will work themselves to death in homely and completely functional swimsuits. They will have scraggly hair and be the last to share the toothbrush. They will also beg the pretty people to stay longer, but will be voted off almost immediately.

In a Survivor world my sweater would be voted off by the third tribal council. No one ever appreciates it’s hard work. It is more likely to get a stint on exile island than it is to receive any recognition for its utilitarian function.

I hang onto my sweater as a symbol of solidarity with ugly sweaters everywhere. I hope I am setting an example to all the pretty sweaters we walk past everyday.

I raise my coffee cup, hold my head high and say aloud “for ugly sweaters everywhere!” As I do, a woman in a pretty blue sweater walks past and drops change into my cup. “Thank you!” I say loudly.

Solidly, warmly, I say thank you!