December 28, 2005
The Clones
Lurk in the Shadows - And In My TV
The Attack
of the Clones is no longer science fiction. It’s here. It’s happening
before our very eyes. I, for one, am scared! Not of the aliens hailing
from other planets (and their relatives i.e. Katie Holmes’s baby), but
of the Clones living right next door to all of us.
Every time
I see one, I close my eyes and think back to something my parents taught
me when I was very young. It seems to be a foreign concept to anyone
younger than my own Generation X, and to anyone living in zip codes
starting with “9-0,” but I try to recall it.
I think it
was “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
It’s a good
thing I remember this. Because my friend Stephanie wears her sweaters
too tight. She believes that if you’ve got it, flaunt it. Then there’s
my friend Marty, who wears a lot of purple because wearing purple makes
him happy. Shouldn’t he wear gray or burgundy and be J.
Crew-model-melancholy -cool?
Oh, the
horror of these fashion faux pas. But wait! I just looked in the
mirror, and even though I am only 4’10, I am wearing flats again today.
Comfort over the extra two inches I need to look “tall?” Have I gone
mad?
Quick!
Back to that memory! It helps me realize that if the three of us – me,
Marty and Stephanie – were judged by our clothing, we wouldn’t be the
CEOs or vice presidents of companies, or teachers of the year that we
are in real life.
It’s great
to make fun of Clones, but I have a serious question. I am looking down
at my growing belly, and I know there’s a fifty-fifty chance that there
is a girl in there. My question is – how am I going to teach her that
same lesson my parents taught me?
I’ll have
to compete with at least one of the following that is sure to infiltrate
her existence: The television shows a) What Not to Wear; b) Extreme
Makeover; c) Make Me Look Like a Celebrity; d) Dr. 90210; e) Nip/Tuck;
or any picture of Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton or Mary Kate Olsen, all of
whom do not have anything physically wrong with them, which of course,
makes their behavior socially acceptable.
It was
definitely easier for my parents. They didn’t have quite the
television-inspired challenges that I have today.
So, thank
you again, Hollywood, for making simple life lessons virtually
impossible to teach with brilliant shows such as “What Not to Wear.” I
sat through an episode in which a gal – a curvy, gorgeous woman with an
electric persona to match – was made to look a certain way that I can
only describe as “not her.” She looked rather defeated. Inspiring?
Hardly.
On “Make me
Look Like a Celebrity,” I saw a woman turned into Angelina Jolie before
my very eyes. As soon as it happened, I literally could not remember
HER name. And that’s okay with people?
So, how is
my daughter going to believe me when I tell her that she is beautiful
and perfect the way she is, when even family sit-coms that are on at
8:00 talk about breast implants? I can tell her, sure. The question is
– how will I ever get her to believe me?
Even some
of the women who might have served as role models – your Greta Van
Susterens or your Patricia Heatons – are ruined for me because they
couldn’t accept their talent, intelligence and tenacity as enough to be
proud of.
Of course,
children can learn by example. I won’t be wobbling around in three-inch
heels to try and pretend I’m tall. My husband isn’t going to pay
thousands of dollars to have his extra tooth extracted – we can’t afford
it and he’s kind of adverse to unnecessary pain. And Stephanie isn’t
going to stop wearing the clothes that match her personality to a tee.
Thank
goodness I can introduce my daughter to all of these folks and more.
Most likely, I can still introduce her to most of you. We non-clones
are still here. We’re still among the happy and the successful. I just
think we need to be careful. The Clones are always lurking in the
shadows, ready to prey on our young.
© 2005 North Star Writers
Group. May not be republished without permission.
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