Just A ‘Pretty Girl’. (Living without a personality) (OCT 2013)

Just a pretty Girl (2013)
Just a pretty Girl (2013) By Victoriadeyemi

Season greetings dear readers: it has been ages since I last wrote on my blog. Apologies; I proportion part of the blame on severe writer’s block and the other half on the trauma that came with going back to being a student.

The Ninth sketch form the Black Sketchbook was drawn during my first few weeks at Uni. I have always wanted to be more than just a pretty girl, I could very well handle the days when my mother put me in a dress and tried to make me look pretty for guests or pictures or parties but I always felt constricted and uncomfortable. However the older I grew, the more appealing it was to be just a pretty girl, nothing more, nothing less. I felt like it didn’t help to be deep because depth brought with it a depressing atmosphere; “I was always making the people around me think more than they usually would”. When I did try to be just a pretty girl, I looked in the mirror and it was not me. I was definitely surprised by how long it took me to accomplish ‘the look’,  I was surprised by how different it made me look, but I was mostly surprised by how easily I had caved in. Then I started to think..

What happens when you are no longer conceived as a pretty girl?

What happens when your charm fades and your face is no longer bright?

What happens when you grow old and your back starts to hunch over, you can no longer walk in those stylish heels, and your face is covered in wrinkles and your hair is white and people are no longer drawn to you?

What happens when you start to feel irrelevant and imperfect in a society where the standards are so high?

How far would you go to feel like a pretty girl again?

After all that thinking I laughed because I realized that none of this actually matters If I continue to just be myself.

The Ninth sketch isn’t one of my favorites but I think she definitely nailed the expression I had when I looked in the mirror, surprised but also subtle hint of disappointment. Back then I seldom used coal in my drawings, but I did here. Perhaps I did it as a reflection of my sudden willingness to try new things. I don’t know.


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