One Direction, Beauty, and Feminism

Confession: I like One Direction more than any adult is probably willing to admit. Even when I was a camp counselor the summer that they hit it big and crazed tweenagers were screaming the chansons into my ears, I held strong in my adoration of the British boy band.

There is one song of theirs, however, which has always irked me whenever it comes on the radio (or out of the mouth of a love-struck adolescent). It is, the ever-popular: “What Makes You Beautiful.”

In my opinion, the especially problematic lyrics are as follows:

1. “Don’t need make-up to cover up, being the way that you are is enough.”

2. “You don’t know you’re beautiful. That’s what makes you beautiful.”

With regards to this first line I’ve listed, it reminds me of a very passive aggressive roommate I had my freshman year of college. Almost every morning, I would wake up early to apply make-up and one time, she told me: “I don’t wear make-up, because I’m not trying to impress anyone.” My response: “Neither am I. I’m just trying to blend in.” No pun intended, but it’s true. In order to look the way I am expected to as a woman, I need to “cover up” the cystic acne that I have struggled with since I was eleven.

I do not have the appearance of what society deems as “natural beauty” in the morning. My hair looks like I was struck by lightning during the night and my skin’s “imperfections” do not consist of a few freckles. In fact, the year I was on hard-core medication that shut down all oil production in my skin (clearing my complexion, yet also giving me massive headaches and perpetually dry lips), the friends and family members I reconnected with after having not seen them since before swallowing that first intense pill would almost always say something along the lines of: “Oh my God! Your face looks so nice!” And I know they were trying to be kind, but I couldn’t help thinking — It’s great to know that you believe I looked hideous before. Now that the drugs didn’t completely work, I wear make-up, but not because I am vain or want to get laid. I wear it because I want to look “normal”. I wear it because I don’t want people averting their eyes when speaking with me or worse — staring pitifully into mine.

The issue that I find with the second lyric I’ve posted is similar, more general, and a well-discussed concern birthed from the feminist movement — why is a woman measured by her beauty in the first place? And why, in this instance, do a woman’s insecurities make her beautiful? It’s almost like my favorite five-member British boy band is trying to keep my confidence level fairly low if it’s saying that the type of beauty I should be striving for is derived from that special something with which femininity has always been associated: hyper-humility. Why am I not allowed to apply my foundation and lipstick, then look in the mirror and say: “damn, I look good today,” without being pegged as a fake, vain, bitch?

Why is it unacceptable for women to “know [they’re] beautiful” without being told so?