Even the fiercest, toughest feminists are usually able to appreciate a genuine, non-creepy compliment about their physical appearance every once in a while, especially when it comes from another female. So last week when a woman I met at a conference told me that I looked just like Miss America, I probably should have been flattered (albeit I'm at least a foot shorter and wider)? But I wasn't. Not even close. You see, last week the nation crowned the first south Asian Miss America. Her skin was darker and her last name was even harder to pronounce than mine. And she freakin' did a Bollywood dance on stage. Awesome. Over the years I've been told that I resemble Kristi Yamaguchi, Michelle Kwan, Julie Chen, Connie Chung, Lucy Liu and just about every female Asian celebrity out there. So when someone tells me that I look like Miss America, I know they are full of it. I don't have legs that go all the way up to perky breasts. I don't have a delicate teeny waistline, or soft, curly hair that flows effortlessly down to my waist. I do however, happen to be brown and have dark hair. And that's where it ends. So thanks for the compliment, but really no thanks.
No comments:
Post a Comment