Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

I was doing some research yesterday and came across Samantha Brick, a writer for the UK's Daily Mail.  It seems that Ms. Brick wrote an article on Tuesday entitled "Why Women Hate Me for Being Beautiful" that became an internet sensation which generated more than a million tweets and caused several of the newspapers I looked at to close down their comment section.

According to Ms. Brick, her physical attractiveness has cost her jobs, friends and created considerable tension in social situations--that is, if her employers, friends and social contacts were women.  The men, it would seem, adore Ms. Brick and their open admiration has garnered her drinks, great service and the animosity of, it would appear, every woman she has ever had contact with. Even her friends have a problem with her attractiveness:  "And most poignantly of all, not one girlfriend has ever asked me to be bridesmaid."

Predictably, most of the comments I saw had to do with the readers' opinions of Ms. Brick's beauty, or for the most part, the lack thereof.  Anyone who wrote this article would be marked as arrogant but she might have achieved grudging agreement for her comments if she had the looks to back them up.  Instead, she comes across as a delusional, ordinary-looking woman with an over-achieving ego.

I personally don't dispute the idea that gorgeous people may get treated in ways they find unacceptable or uncomfortable so my biggest beef with her article is her failure to back up her claims with anything other than her own personal experiences--experiences that are weak and naturally biased.  For example, she describes a time she was out walking and waved at a neighbor who was driving by.  The neighbor deliberately snubbed her Brick says and the conclusion Brick came to?  She was jealous of Brick's looks. 

I can't even count the number of times I failed to see someone I knew out walking while I drove by and didn't notice till they called it to my attention later on.  Sometimes I am deep in thought as I drive, sometimes I am singing, and sometimes, I am actually paying attention to my driving while I'm in my vehicle. 

But I can't possibly understand what Brick has gone through; though she is only 5 years younger than me, I am exactly the kind of woman she describes as being hostile to her:  older, heavier, and "with the bloom beginning to fade."  I just don't have the experience she has had to feel sympathy or compassion.  And that so does not bother me.  I've been a bridesmaid four times.