When my brother-in-law sent me this link to the new E! series, Bridalplasty, my jaw literally dropped. (Side Note: Thanks to all of my lovely friends and family for being self-appointed Nourishing the Soul media watchdogs!)

In case I ever begin to be deluded that society is waking up to the harm caused by popularizing unrealistic versions of beauty, someone please just remind me to turn on the E! network. Or actually, don’t.

In the latest display of stomach-turning “Who came up with this horrific idea?” idiocy, E! has created a show that single-handedly represents all that I hate about reality television: portraying women as back-stabbing bimbos, promoting body-shame, and glamorizing unhealthy ideals and means of achieving them. Throw in the “celebrity” wedding and you’ve got Bridalplasty, the show that pushes the feminist movement back at least sixty years.

If you haven’t seen a trailer for the show, here’s the premise: Engaged women come together in what E! calls the first competition of it’s kind. As the women progress through wedding-themed challenges, they have the opportunity to weekly win one of the surgeries on their “wish list.” The show’s ultimate winner receives the whole she-bang: a total plastic surgery-induced makeover before her big day. In case you wondering about who is performing these procedures, don’t worry – it’s Dr. Terry Dubrow – a surgeon all too familiar with taking a knife to unhappy people’s bodies from his days on Fox’s The Swan.

Consider one of the show’s early challenges. The women are asked to compete in “Puzzle Play,” a game in which they each cover a picture of their old, unsightly selves with puzzle pieces to create an image of how they will appear on their big day – liposuctioned, Botoxed and chopped. If that’s not bad enough, once the puzzle is complete, the ladies are to run over, grab a syringe (no, seriously) and head downstairs for an in-house “injectibles party.” I’m wondering why someone didn’t call the police. Here’s a clip:

The ethical, medical, and psychological implications are simply staggering.

Bridalplasty explicitly places the emphasis of a wedding (which last time I checked involved the celebration of two people’s love, not lipo) on physical appearance – as if the 40 billion dollar per year wedding industry didn’t have enough revenue streams. I have to wonder about the future spouses of the women on this show and their reactions to their bride’s desire to transform themselves for the big day. Will they even recognize their soon-to-be-wife as she walks down the aisle? Will she recognize herself?

The show also promotes plastic surgery as the answer to body dissatisfaction. Call me crazy, but I can think of quite a few less expensive and less medically invasive ways to love your body. No nipping or tucking involved. Just like dieting, plastic surgery is not the key to a rocking body and often ends up leaving people feeling disappointed and dissatisfied. I’ll tell you the key to a rocking body. Confidence.

And I can’t forget to rant a bit about the way in which these types of shows play on women’s insecurities and body shame to rev up feelings of competition. Oh so cleverly, the producers turn all of that self-hate from being directed inward to being directed toward the girl in the next room. Suddenly we have a house full of screaming, angry women flailing at each other, when the issue is really that these women don’t know where to go with all of the shame and anger they feel for their bodies.

Okay, I think I can breathe again. I’d love to hear your thoughts, though. Share your reactions in the comments!

A quick “housekeeping note”! Don’t forget to e-mail me the link to your Self-Discovery, Word by Word Series post on GRATITUDE by October 19th. I don’t want to leave you off the round-up! I can’t wait to share all of the amazing writing that I’ve seen so far!

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Recently I was browsing through old photographs, memories of homecoming dances and holiday meals spread out before me on the coffee table in joyful disarray. I came upon an image tucked among others from a summer I spent in Cameroon, a country in western African whose patchwork of diverse cultures resembles an old blanket – tattered but comfortable.

The photograph I held in my hands pictured a young man whom I met during my brief but life-shifting stay in the city of Kumba in southwest Cameroon. While the man’s name and even character had long since evaporated from my memory, the image brought to mind a conversation that we had on one surprisingly cool evening in June. The man (we’ll call him Pierre, a common name the country where French is one of the two national languages) had asked me what the United States was like, and I eagerly shared the romantic details of the neighborhood in which I grew up, as well as the college town where I had by then spent three wonderful years.

As I talked, I noticed Pierre’s eyes were wide with excitement, drinking in my words hungrily. He stopped me mid-sentence to ask, “Miss, Miss! You must tell me! Are there really swimming pools at every house?” I burst into laughter and replied that there certainly were not.

“But, what about gold? Isn’t nearly everything made of gold?” Again, I replied that no, most things were made of brick and mortar, admittedly studier that the wooden structures that many in his city called home. By this point, I began to get a sinking feeling in my stomach, wondering where exactly Pierre had developed the idea that our bathrooms had golden toilet seats.

When I learned that the answer was MTV’s Cribs, I sighed and shook my head. After several more minutes of assuring Pierre that the US was not littered with hot tubs, Porches, and six-foot women walking down Michigan Avenue in bikinis, I could see the disappointment in his face. When I told him that the freedoms we enjoy are in fact limited by actual laws (no, Pierre, I cannot tell the police officer to shove off or take my neighbor’s car because I like it better), I think I saw his heart break.

In his mind, the US represented all of that was good and wonderful and right. It was sunshine and flowers, luxury and rest. The US was a land of freedom and opportunity and symbolized a chance for a different life, one far different from the one he was currently living. If he could just get to the US, Pierre had told me, he would be happy.

Looking at the photograph of the man smiling hopefully, I realized that the United States was Pierre’s “skinny.”

How many of us have held on to the notion for years that if we could just cross the vast ocean of self-punishment, we could get to the Land of Skinny and experience bliss? That if we could just work hard enough and restrict our natural impulses, we could find the happiness that lies within being thin? That skinny means opportunity and freedom and escape from all that is difficult?

I’m here to tell you, as I told Pierre several years ago now, that this elusive land that you’ve been dreaming of for years is not what you might expect. The US, while affording incredible gifts to its citizens, comes with its fair share of problems. Similarly, a being skinny is not the ticket to gold-paved roads, despite what our media might have us believe. Skinny still feels sadness – it feels pain and hurt and hopelessness.

It’s easy to dream that looking different will make you different, but it’s not the case. Like corruption and disease, low self-esteem and self-hatred know no borders. It’s time to look around and find the beauty in your home.

As a strong advocate for truth in advertising, inclusive media representation, and women in general, I was saddened to learn about the recent casting call made by Dove* (which is owned by Unilever, for those of you who care about such things) for their Campaign for Real Beauty (italics added), “a global effort that is intended to serve as a starting point for societal change.” Check out the Craigslist post caught by a Jezebel reader late last week:

DOVE “REAL WOMEN” PRINT CASTING JUNE 28-30, 2010 in NYC
ABSOLUTELY NO ACTRESSES / MODELS OR REALITY SHOW PARTICIPANTS or ANY ONE CARRYING A HEADSHOT!!!!
REAL WOMEN ONLY!
LOOKING FOR 3-4 REAL WOMEN for a DOVE PRINT CAMPAIGN!

AGES 35-45, CAUCASIAN, HISPANIC, AFRICAN AMERICAN, & ASIAN!

SHOOT: SUNDAY, JULY 18 in NYC! MUST BE AVAILABLE FOR THE SHOOT!
RATE: $500 for Shoot date & if selected for Ad Campaign (running 2011) you will be paid $4000!
USAGE: 3 years unlimited print & web usage in N. America Only

YOU WILL BE PHOTOGRAPHED FOR THE CAMPAIGN IN A TOWEL!
BEAUTIFUL ARMS AND LEGS AND FACE WILL BE SHOWN!
MUST HAVE FLAWLESS SKIN, NO TATTOOS OR SCARS!
Well groomed and clean…Nice Bodies..NATURALLY, FIT Not too Curvy Not too Athletic.

Great Sparkling Personalities. Beautiful Smiles! A DOVE GIRL!!!
STYLISH AND COOL!
Beautiful HAIR & SKIN is a MUST!!!

PLEASE SUBMIT SNAPSHOTS of FACE & BODY ASAP & WE WILL CALL YOU IN FOR A CASTING NEXT WEEK 6/28-6/30 in NYC!

“NATURALLY FIT”? “Not too Curvy”? “FLAWLESS SKIN, NO TATOOS OR SCARS!”? Seriously?!? This ad calls into question how exactly Dove conceptualizes a real woman. So, women who are a size 10 are real, but women who are a 12 are not? Or an 8? A scar makes someone less of a real woman? Last time I check, scars tell some of the most amazing stories of the most real women that I know. And don’t get me started on the tattoo criteria… As some of you know, I have a one-inch tattoo on my hip that, to me, sums up my own real womanhood.

And let’s face it… can we really put the words “real” and “flawless” in the same sentence? The only thing both real and flawless I have ever seen is Grater’s ice cream… but that’s beside the point. While the brand banishes models and actresses from its call, it fails in a major way to live up to its purported appreciation for diverse forms of beauty. It simultaneously tells us that women can be any size (as long as the curves are under control), but cannot deviate from our other cultural standards – perfect skin, hair, teeth, nails… And oh, in case you’ve got all that, your personality better be “sparkling!”

A couple of years ago I ran media literacy groups in a Cincinnati high school and used Dove as an example of a risk-taking, socially responsible, and inclusive brand. This is not to say that I was or am naïve enough to believe that the Campaign for Real Beauty is purely an altruistic cause rather than a fantastic marketing strategy (I am flexible enough to see that both could be true). And it’s not to say that I don’t continue to believe it has the potential to steer real change. However, I have to say that I am more than a little disappointed to see in black and white that Dove’s expansion of the idea of beauty goes only so far. It seems it remains narrowed by some of the same cultural standards that have limited women (and men) for decades.

What does your image of real beauty look like?

* A spokesperson for Dove responded, saying, “‘Unfortunately, this casting notice was not approved by the brand or agency team and did not reflect the spirit of the brand team’s vision. ’We appreciate that this has been brought to our attention, and we are taking the necessary steps to prevent this from happening in the future.”

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