Venus envy

My friend, S, is tall, slim, fair and has long hair. In other words, she's the traditional Asian ideal of beauty.

If I were a cynic and didn't know her better, I would have concluded she was trying to be cloyingly modest when she confessed she never felt as though she was a sight to behold. This is the same girl, who has legs that seem to go on forever and pouty lips that drove a male ex-colleague to whisper into my ears clandestinely, "Wish I could push your friend onto the table and make love to her right there".

But S has not lost her marbles, because she paled in comparison with that Eurasian girl in the eyes of advertisers, who put the mixed-blooded on a pedestal for their mass appeal. That girl with the almond-shaped eyes, sharp nose, sparkling skin, and all the best bits of the East and West.

It's hilarious how many people have bought into that idea of beauty, simply because only a certain type of look has been deemed worthy of being splashed across the giant billboards. If the media were to tout Miss Piggy as God's gift to mankind, I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the population say amen to that.

Surely, this must have been borne out of the human need to be socially accepted. If you're not in, you're out. And not many want to be outside the circle.

Anyway, S thinks that every guy, who has the hots for her, must have been stoked by her personality. Because she's not some kind of beautiful, right?

"Er, I don't think so," I told S. "Remember that ex-colleague of mine? The one who fell for you at first sight and followed you around like a puppy?"

Of course, at this point, she launched into a tirade against men. The numerous men, who had made advances towards her, while they kept their wives and kids at home. How she might have to accept the "fact" that she might just end up like one of those wives, sigh.

"Well, darling, you've to hold out for Mr Darcy (that English gentleman from Pride and Prejudice by author Jane Austen). He didn't marry Lizzie for her pretty head but rather for her beautiful mind," I pointed out.

"E! Life is not a movie or a book!", S said. (At this point, she thought I needed more rescuing than she does...)

Me: "But you see, darling, Mr Darcy does exist. Because I do. After all, we're humans, whether we're men or women. We're the minority, maybe. I just hope the men who falls within this category are not either gay or married."

S: "Well, I still don't think men go for me purely for my looks. You look more Eurasian than I do."

Ah, so, it's really all about venus envy, isn't it?