A little bit of truth in a world full of illusions
I am tired. Tired of perfect and pore-free skin. I am tired of endless long thin legs on which no girl could ever walk. I am tired of perfectly identic formed breasts. Tired of faces that are exactly symmetric. Tired of hands that look as though they are looked after and massaged all day. I am terribly tired of slimmed necks and arms. And I am tired of all the retouched photos in magazines. What is still real, what is an illusion, a deception, a faked truth?
Everywhere we meet them: perfect bodies, perfect faces, perfect lives. In this jungle of illusions we’re likely to forget that all these bodies, these flawless faces are simply made perfect by retouching.
Actually we forgot that in real life, on the street, on the bus and while shopping we do not meet such a perfectly created human being. They just do not exist. Although we see them in various magazines and on the internet, but in real life we don’t meet them. These perfect people are illusion, nothing but illusion.
We all know that these illusions of perfect people can lead to ugly actions. As far as I’m concerned I went fasting in my teenage years. Diets, weight loss programmes, plastic surgery, hair and lash extensions – they all are much asked for and everybody wants at least to benefit from one of the „beauty miracles“ mentioned above. At last because media preaches us „That’s why nobody loves you“, „With these tricks you lose 10 kilos in just two weeks!“ or „Top creams to fight wrinkles for 20 year olds“. The market is big and the prices are cheap.
On some blogger events or shop openings I took note that almost everywhere I looked I saw plastic noses, lips and (often badly made) hair extensions. Eyelashes that almost reach the moon and remind me of the poster „Christmas in HD“. I guess Barbie would envy all these perfect bodies, the pushed up butts like Kim Kardashian has and the straight and short snub noses and the tightened faces – without any expression.
I do not want to be a part of this illusion society. I would like to look at my pictures in 20 years and recognize myself. I don’t want to have the feeling as if I was looking at photos of a stranger. I want this beauty circus to stop at last and that the people recognize how foolish it is and how unhappy it makes people. On the photo above you can see them: „rolls of fat“ or simply normal skin folds. Wrinkles that arise when you sit down or when you’re not lying perfectly outstretched. Skin folds are the most normal thing in the world but can no longer be found in magazines and various websites since they have simply been retouched. Just as if they were not normal. As if they were ugly and poisonous.
Of course, I’m not Mother Theresa when it comes to picture editing. I also edit my photos. However the maximum is skin retouching (is I get spots when I eat spicy food) and Dodge & Burn, besides contrast and colour adjustments. I also like using filters from time to time. But I would never think about turning my body into an illusion. I do have feminine curves and I’m fine with that because that’s simply me and that’s a good thing. Honestly, I am getting sick from my clients‘ questions if I could not make it here and there a little slimmer. Of course, I do them the favour but I keep on asking myself „why?“ – Don’t you wanna look like the way you do?
Who ever is asking now:“Where did she get that incredibly beautiful lace body?“ – The answer is: Hunkemöller! To be exact, the body is from the Anna Nooshin collection and I immediately fell in love with him. I especially like the romantic look and I can imagine wearing this beautiful piece of lace with a sweater and jeans to create a wonderful everyday look. If you want to order this fantastically beautiful lace body, I recommend you order it one size larger, because it turns out a little smaller.
In friendly cooperation with Hunkemöller ♥
How do you like today’s contribution and the lace body? By the way these photos have been created after a really long time with self-release as I always used to do that in the past. XX, Christina Key
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