Jolie est comme jolie fait…
A few weeks ago, a friend said to me, “you look SO pretty in that lipstick,” and I found myself flinching with an almost reflexive recoil from the word. Crazy, right? I mean, doesn’t every woman want to be pretty? Yet…
Interesting, this bit of personal baggage. I’m not looking for bolstering, and have actually grown quite comfortable and content with my looks. Over the years I’ve learned to take a compliment, and believe it. Call me attractive, gorgeous, even beautiful, and I’ll buy in. But “pretty?” Pretty feels like it belongs to someone else, like a pair of designer heels that I might admire but could never walk in, or a too tight dress. Not a good fit.
Perhaps my ambivalence originated with all of those years of hearing “you’d be so pretty if you just lost weight.” Pretty became something that always felt out of reach. Perhaps because of the era in which I grew up, Pretty in my mind evokes a very narrow, conventional standard of attractiveness. Pretty was a label bestowed on the cheerleaders, the popular girls, the slender ones with long golden hair and whose mothers let them wear stretch pants and two-piece bathing suits. (And to free-associate around in the deepest recesses of my psyche, Pretty correlates with Conventional in other ways too: feminine, traditional, deferential, a Good Girl.)
There’s nothing wrong with being pretty, and no, I don’t really think conventionally pretty women inherently embody ANY of those descriptors. My personal beef is with the word and my own associations, not the women it’s applied to. Appearance isn’t destiny, or in any way the totality of who we are. If you think of yourself as pretty and it feels like a good fit, more power to you.
But while Pretty feels confining and exclusive to me, Beautiful feels expansive and inclusive. Pretty divides, Beauty unites. Pretty is something that’s bestowed, Beauty is something we all inherently possess. Pretty is on the surface, Beauty is about the whole of us. And the older I get, the more I realize that Pretty is fleeting, Beauty lasts a lifetime.
I remember reading a few years ago (can’t remember specifically where) musings from a woman who “woke up one morning and realized that [she] would never again be the pretty girl in the room,” and the sense of loss she was experiencing as a result of this. Having never been “the pretty girl in the room” I find that while I’m not always thrilled by the signs of aging, I don’t feel that I’m losing a part of my identity with each new wrinkle or brown spot or inch of waistline. I just wish I could go back and explain this eventual advantage to my younger self who at times wanted more than anything to be considered one of the pretty girls.
What about you? Are you and Pretty on good terms? Are there other words you feel ambivalent about using to describe yourself?
~
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Beautifully spoken! I agree! Peace, Stephanie
Oh yes, I can relate. I was told through my youth that I was the “smart” one and (other girl) was the “pretty” one. the Pretty Club was not for me. When I did become more conventionally attractive in my late 20’s- 30’s, it seemed a very strange label. Now at 56 I feel I am well past “pretty”, and that is just fine with me.
Beautifully written! I too dislike the word ‘pretty’ and in my mind it applies only to females under the age of 12, and then, as you stated, divides and creates competition, affecting self esteem. Words are powerful!
Hm…
this is a word that I use frequently.
Roses, clothes, women, girls, all manner of things.
I have never considered it to be negative or condescending.
You’ve given me a pause to reflect on my terminology.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this topic. I agree with the notion that those of us who were not labeled “pretty” when younger actually have a better time of it when we get older. My mother was (and in many ways still is) very beautiful, in her teens as well as while an adult into her 50s. She wasn’t “pretty” because her features were too strong for that, but she was striking and gorgeous, and therefore (as she later told me) based her self worth on the response she got from people about her looks. As she got into her 50s, 60s, and beyond, her face and body changed enough that she no longer attracted the adoring attention she once had; and it has really devastated her in some ways. I–not pretty, beautiful or gorgeous–never got the attention she did. And while it was, at times, hard to have such a beautiful mother while being so plain myself, I certainly see that things are easier for me, in my mid-40s, than they were for her in terms of aging. I find myself relatively pleased with my appearance and my place in the world these days, while my mother continues to struggle. I’ve thought about it before but never heard/read anyone else articulate it–and I really appreciate that you did so.
BTW, altho I’ve never commented before, I love your blog and have read it avidly for about a year and a half. Thanks for your great posts!
-Sam
Hmmm…now see when I hear “pretty” I just think of it as a milder “beautiful” and not some totally different loaded-with-societal-messages word. For whatever reason that word doesn’t carry any of the baggage for me that it does for you (and lots of your commenters). Isn’t that interesting? How we can each interpret language differently. Now “interesting” would bother me (as in, “those are interesting pants”) ha! And I’m getting a little old for “cute” although with my upturned nose and roundish cheeks I caught that one a lot growing up..although if someone said I had on a cute dress, it wouldn’t bother me at all.
I guess all I’m saying is consider the source before you feel too funny about someone calling you pretty, because if I said it all I would mean was that you look very fresh and attractive in your lipstick.
Melissa
Very interesting. I have the words the other way around. I was a conventionally pretty girl, although I can’t say it ever did me much good. Without a solid sense of self-value, pretty just distracts you and everyone else from the truth.
To me beauty is what seems out of reach. And yet, I think we’re all much closet to beautiful now, in our 50s, now that the Pretty Fairy has taken her leave.
I completely agree. I was never the pretty girl. I wore glasses and still remember the teenaged boys laughing at me. Ouch.
I dated a man in my 40’s who said “you’re so sweet” I thought “boy, you do not have a clue who I am”. It was almost an insult.
Now I’d rather be thought of as ‘fierce’ than pretty any day.
While I’m happy enough now if someone comments on my hair or my makeup/face or my overall appearance as “pretty,” I do have some of the same cultural baggage around the word as you do — and you’ve expressed it so clearly and movingly. When I use the word myself, and I do fairly regularly, it’s toward smaller pleasures — your sense of confinement applies. There’s almost as large a gap between “pretty” and “beautiful” to me as the one poets and philosophers used to ponder between the beautiful and the sublime. If I’m complimenting someone I’m as likely to say she looks fabulous or great or wonderful or so attractive as to say pretty, but I know I’ve also spontaneously commented that one of my daughters, for example, looks so pretty (have also called them beautiful — a mother’s perogative, you know?!)
I’m always impressed that you find time to craft these thoughtful and well-written posts. Bravo!
I found this post interesting and hope I have never been guilty of inadvertently insulting someone with the “P” word. It simply doesn’t carry the emotional baggage for me and I would consider it a huge complement to be told that I am pretty. I remember once seeing Bobbi Brown talking about cosmetics for older women and mentioning that “pretty” colors are best…pinks, peaches, etc. (as opposed to the dramatic colors that younger women can get away with.) She specifically said that makeup should makeup should make you look “pretty”. Also, does this have to do with when you were born? I am 45 and wonder if that makes a difference.
I think pretty is reserved for the young. my mother said I looked like a gypsy, my grandparents said face like a monkey (I don’t look like either but growing up these tags made me self concious. By my twenties, I was called exotic now just good looking.
A rose is a rose is a rose 🙂
firstly, love your blog!
you’ve expressed it perfectly for me…and beautiful is definitely what I prefer…pretty feels about 8 years of age with a pink dress and curls or perhaps a doll or a lovely pink flower, more lovely perhaps. as women, most carry the baggage of youth and the labels we were given and not… I’ll take beautiful any day and if someone described me as elegant, I’d not believe it!
and then there’s ma’am…..ugh!
Interesting post! The one I dread to hear, yet have heard it from a close friend: “…but, you have such a pretty face.” Grrrrr.
Aw, c’mon, just enjoy it! 😀
I happily accept all compliments these days. Better than the alternatives!
“Having never been “the pretty girl in the room” I find that while I’m not always thrilled by the signs of aging, I don’t feel that I’m losing a part of my identity with each new wrinkle or brown spot or inch of waistline.”
My sentiments exactly. Although I am tall and thin, I have strong features and was never considered “pretty” or, let’s face it, at all attractive growing up. I have grown into my face and as an adult I occasionally get called “nice looking” or “striking.” Still, I am rather grateful that I did not base my identity on looks. I knew my face was never going to be my fortune, and that I would have to rely on other qualities instead. It’s a better place to be when you are in middle age, I think.
I don’t think there is anything wrong with the word pretty, if used in a sincere way. In my case, the trouble I have is with the word that precedes it: “but…”. As if a pretty face is wasted on a less than perfect body.
@Gretchen, ha, yes! Brains will get you more mileage. But I do understand Madame la Femme’s feelings, here. “Pretty” has a faintly demeaning undertone, somehow. And reading this column suddenly brought to mind an incident from my childhood. I don’t remember what sparked this, but I asked my mother if I was pretty. After a long pause, she said, “You’re above average.”
You just helped me more than you know. I have always wondered why I balked at the word “pretty.” Everything you say here makes so much sense to me…I was told “you will be pretty if you lose weight” and the popular girl thing…so much sense! I do think now I see it as an association with younger girls and women…I work in a high school where I hear it every day…but I so agree with the word beauty being the word for us…and that everyone is born beautiful. Beauty has always felt like something that went deeper…pretty connotates more surface. Wow, thanks for clearing up what I was never able to figure out!
“You look so well”…that always rings the alarm bells for me!! .Pretty’….not my favourite but I can live with it…. xv
This is absolutely true, Femme. Pretty and cute evoke the same negative response in my mature brain. Thanks for putting it out there so clearly for us. My favorite descriptors are lovely, elegant and of course, beautiful!
Now for me it was the total opposite. I’ve been called pretty by plenty of people, including strangers, but when my husband says I’m beautiful I get all embarassed. I think beautiful exists on a whole other level than where I exist. And as for the “you’d be pretty if …” remarks, I used to get “you should … (lose weight/stand up straight whatever) you’re so pretty”.
Mimi
Pretty makes me uncomfortable too. Maybe because that’s what women would constantly tell me that I was. But when it was said to me it was not meant in a kind or nice way. Pretty meant that I should have a better life than I did. Pretty when I was growing up meant being ostracized. So I tried very, very hard not to be pretty.
Loving this post–particularly how, as I think is true of many women, “beautiful” has truly taken on a more inclusive meaning than “pretty.” There used to be a tighter focus on “beautiful” as being like a glorified version of “pretty,” but I believe that’s changing. Instead personal beauty is becoming more akin to the beauty of the world, which changes and truly is accessible to everyone. Thank you!
(I try not to be self-promotional on other people’s blogs, but if you’re interested in looking more at the words we use to describe women’s appearance you might dig one of my regular features, in which I look at etymology, connotation, and historical usage of various words like “lovely,” “attractive,” etc. It’s here):
http://www.the-beheld.com/p/thoughts-on-word.html
I like the word pretty, and wouldn’t react negatively if it was used about me. I think of “beautiful”, when used to describe someone, as a higher degree of “pretty”.
Beauty does encompass much more than pretty, so I agree at the inclusiveness of it.
cg
So true. For me the word was ” nice “, only I never was worthy of it, nor were my daughters in front of my mother. She used to say, that if we were just a bit more this or that, we would actually be nice. She did not mean our looks. She felt she did not get enough attention.
I would not have minded being called pretty, but you know what I mean.
There is one thing I see too often on all blogs, which seems odd to me, coming from another country; culture.
And this is the over-generous use of praising words. Nearly everything is commented as stunning, great, fantastic, etc,.
I understand that it is common in US to use these words all the time, but still – don´t these words loose their power, used so frequently?
This was just an off topic observation from a far away country.
I agree. Pretty also seems like a wishy-washy word and I’m reminded of the last line of Heminway’s “The Sun Also Rises” in which he states answers Brett’s claim that life is going to be wonderful with “it’s pretty to think so.” That phrase to me just perfectly embodies how he really doesn’t think it’s going to be wonderful. Pretty is such a loaded word yet limp and quite weak. Give me striking, quirky, or even attractive. Anything but pretty.
I’m on great terms with “pretty.” It’s “beautiful” that I balk at…. hmmm
This post resonates with me too, because of the diversity implications. The Pretty Club is only for the slender and golden haired, no matter how gorgeous the young girl or woman. It implies a specific skin color, hair color, probably blue eyes, slender body type and I think also a certain level of affluence. Think of many people this leaves out!
I’m fine with pretty, maybe it’s a west coast thing as another commenter noted. I’d take it as a compliment as it was likely meant that way. That said, there used to be a much more narrow definition of what it meant to look good, but I think that we are past having to be a certain hair color or skin tone, and you don’t have to be super skinny to be pretty either.
BTW – Those soft autumn colors are wonderful on you. You are looking great, and seem to have embraced what works for you.
Such an interesting conversation that my mind is whirling and I think I may be doing a post reflecting on it. As someone who has always understood that she looks naturally “pretty” (a.k.a. feminine, large eyes, dimples) I struggled more with feeling beautiful, a word I found more desirable. I don’t cringe at any compliment really, except perhaps interesting, since I myself use it as a nice way of complimenting someone when I perhaps don’t love their outfit.
I really like this post – I can sort of identify with it in a strangely inverse way. I have always been the cute one, the pretty one, the little sister or lovable-sidekick-best-friend type. When someone tells me I look beautiful or hot, while I appreciate it, it almost seems to me as though it’s an empty compliment, since I don’t identify with those words at all. I can be wearing a tight pencil skirt and a deep v-neck blouse with heels and dramatic makeup, and I’ll still describe myself as pretty, rather than sexy. It’s just a word I’ve never felt I own, and if I do describe myself that way, then it will be with the same frame of mind that I use when I describe myself while in a Halloween costume. I’m just a cute girl parading as a sexy woman for a night.
It’s a weird concept.
Such different reactions to the same situation. You must not have been raised on the West Coast where “pretty” didn’t have such a negative conation. “Beautiful” was the mega compliment and something only born to. “Pretty” was what you got from doing the most with what you were born with. Can’t think of a male equivalent – maybe “handsome” vs “charming”. Of course, this was decades ago and impossible to explain to my children, who are handsome, pretty, charming, and beautiful.
When I watch the reruns of the British series “As Time Goes By”, the uncle always tells all the women, “You look very pretty today”, while his wife very pointed rolls her eyes, so the British must have a backstory to the use of the word “pretty”, too.
I love this analogy, and the honesty you’ve shared about your own word associations. I had a similar mother who wasn’t particularly impressed w my looks, but I have become more striking as I aged, instead of like the cute girls who don’t age well. My personal word bugaboo, though, is “nice.” loathe it. So milquetoast. Much better to be kind than a doormat, which is what I associate nice to be.
My goodness this has been an interesting topic. I don’t have a problem with the word pretty. If I have ever used it and inadvertantly upset someone, I apoligize. Maybe some of the connotations have something to do with the area of the country you were raised in. Beautiful to me is a really nice word, but I have never been beautiful, so I am perfectly happy with pretty. Not that I was ever called pretty or cute either. I think that is why I was so apprehensive about showing pictures of me on my blog.
Words do matter. I do understand your feelings.
Well presented. Beauty is ever lasting and comes from inside,it is our soul. Pretty is fleeting and could be something sold to us at Nordstom!!
Thanks for the thought provoking blog post.
Oh, and one of my favorite quotes that sums up what matters to me: “Beauty fades, money comes and goes. But stupid is forever.” I have gotten much farther on being intelligent than I ever did being blonde, blue-eyed (in Minnesota, that doesn’t count for much), and average in looks, with “awkward” features, as a hairdresser once told me. I may not look like gwyneth paltrow, but I’m a member of Mensa.
Interesting how we view things so differently. My experience of “pretty” is/was very different from yours. Once past my “awkward” early teens, I guess I was considered pretty (but not beautiful.) I thought that was the best way to be, because if you are a beautiful girl, I think it’s hard for you to develop other qualities; you are only known for your looks and that’s how people react to you. Obviously this is a big problem for many beautiful women, when they “lose their looks” later in life.
So I was pretty, but also known for being very smart. In hindsight I realized this intimidated boys a great deal. I think I identify more with the smart than the pretty, although it’s very useful to be pretty…but I never really learned to use it, as many women do. I never thought of it as anything but a compliment, though. Now in my fifties, I’m not happy about the changes of age, but am finally coming out of a “fat” period (post-childbirth, segue into menopause) and reclaiming something closer to my previously decent figure. “Pretty” doesn’t seem to apply to us older women, but I’m quite happy with “attractive.” At least, that’s what I’m aiming for!
While reading these comments I half-remembered quote but for the life of me, I can’t think of who said it and I’m sure to garble it but here goes: “she might have been pretty if some one had told her she was beautiful as a child”. This sums up how I view both of those terms.
Beauty is the ideal but being pretty in one’s own unique way is nothing to be ashamed of. One can work towards the ideal and still be considered a winner as long as there is genuine encouragement for that flower to grow. I can take compliments about being pretty but I balk when called beautiful. For whatever reason, my mind instantly jumps to “is he making fun of me?” when that term is used to refer to me.
And here’s one for the weirdness files: I was called “handsome” by a man once and I’ve always understood that when applied to a woman, it infers that she is ugly but in an attractive sort of way. That “compliment” still bothers me thirty years later!
I tend to associate ‘prettiness’ with youth and things that are insubstantial. I was also a ‘clever’ rather than a ‘pretty’ girl at school; since then the word I have been most likely to hear as a compliment is ‘attractive’, which I don’t really mind.
I had an interesting experience with the loss of prettiness/beauty when I met my father’s first wife some years ago. She had been a great beauty – modelled and appeared on magazine covers – but in late middle age was very overweight and unrecognisable. She felt the loss very keenly, and hadn’t managed to find another way to define herself. It was almost tragic.
Your post (and many of the comments) remind me of a James Baldwin quotation that has stuck with me:
“Money, it turned out, was exactly like sex. You thought of nothing else if you didn’t have it and thought of other things if you did.”
In my observation, those who are used to being complimented on their looks from the cradle forward expect some kind of CONSISTENT reaction to and/or commentary on their looks…and the absence of such hits them hard (as noted in the relatively small sample of comments above!)
Those of us who had no or very inconsistent compliments about our looks when younger tend to have the baggage, ha — even if we have “grown into” or learned to “manage” our looks/style so we present a fairly conventionally attractive package.
[I find this baggage often includes whether we are selling out feminist ideals by striving for and/or being pleased by compliments around our personal beauty….]
In short: I get where you’re coming from, but agree there’s something to be said for just enjoying the compliments you get — you’ve earned them!
Thank you, everyone, for your very thoughtful, honest, and wise comments. It’s so interesting to see the variety of reactions and responses! I do want to reply to each one individually (probably tomorrow) but just wanted to add a few general thoughts.
I have no problem using the word pretty to describe a dress, a bouquet of flowers, a sunset. I’ll even use the word to describe another woman sometimes, or a particular feature (she has such pretty eyes). My baggage seems to be solely about applying this word to myself.
To RoseAG, and others, my mother did raise me right, at least when it came to manners.
😉 I always say “thank you” to compliments.
The proper response to a compliment is “thank-you.”
Parsing it any further is for thinkers deeper than myself.
“Pretty” vs “beautiful”– This is a concept that I’ve been extremely aware of for most of my life, since my preteen years.
I have never been “pretty”, but even as a young girl I would look in the mirror and see glimpses of “beautiful”. My very Mediterranean features didn’t match the ideals in the town where I lived, where everyone wanted to look like Charlie’s Angels or Dorothy Hamill. The small bits of beauty advice I got from adults around me were centered around making me look “cute” or conventionally pretty. There was a lot of talk from hairstylists about “softening” my look. (I still get that.)
I, on the other hand, would see pictures of Maria Callas or some famous ballerina, or a Greek statue, and I could those as standards of beauty that I could realistically emulate. But I wondered why no one else could see that. (I’m not saying I look like a Greek goddess, LOL. I’m just saying I could see my hair and bold facial features reflected in these icons more than, say, your typical 1970s fashion model.)
I do remember once when I was about 18, I was talking to an older Iranian lady at my job. She was a motherly type and was warning me about boys and their advances. 🙂 She said, “watch out, because you’re not pretty, but you’re very beautiful.” I took it as an extreme compliment, and I know that she meant it that way.
P.S. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being conventionally pretty; I have been called “pretty” and took it as a compliment as well. But since I don’t consider myself pretty, I have trouble hearing it as a sincere compliment.
(BTW, the reason I mentioned that the lady in my comment above is Iranian, is that I think perhaps her perspective on beauty was different from most other people in our southern U.S. city.)
Well we sure all know what we were, or weren’t, don’t we. I wonder if men would know whether as boys they had been handsome. By the way, I’m happy that we are all converging, and mostly right now are just women of a certain age, no one prettier than anyone else.
Very well put. I personally agree that while there’s nothing wrong with the concept of prettiness, it gives me the creeps when it’s applied to a mature, sophisticated woman such as myself :-).
To follow up on the Baldwin quote, oh so right as well, I once read (still kicking myself I can’t quote it exactly) that the rich never quite believe that they’re loved purely for themselves, but the beautiful always do. I have seen several cases of utterly beautiful children/young people whose life is basically over because they can’t adapt to growing less (conventionally) so as time passes. Sad. But bitterness is never becoming.
I love this post!(I just found your blog – you speak my thoughts so well!) I too, have never never been enamored with the word “pretty” – I was always too tall to be considered “pretty” or “cute”. Pretty to me evoked thoughts of china dolls, blond, curly hair, small frames and dimples. Growing up, I heard a lot of “You look good today”, which to me implied that I must not look good at other times. I never felt “beautiful” growing up, but as a 55 year old woman, I recognize my internal and external beauty now. I am very pleased to be called “glamorous”, “striking” or “attractive”, and I can enjoy the compliment when I receive it.
I do know what you mean – pretty is not a word i like it reminds me of the sort of girls at school who were mean and so prissy to be honest – again my own connotation and not one necessarily the same for others but yes not a word i like. Recently i was described as cute and petite – i really nearly puked at that – i know i am not tall but i am 169 so certainly not petite – ooh i hated that. But to be honest i think the person that said it thought it was a compliment so it is again all about me and my connotations. Beautiful now that is a word that i love to hear it is somehow more unique and sooo complimentary x
http://fashionandfrank.blogspot.com/
Wonderful post and timely! Did you see this story in yesterday’s New York Times?
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/13/fashion/makeup-makes-women-appear-more-competent-study.html?_r=1
So happy to have discovered your blog. Keep it coming, sister!
Couldn’t resist chiming in on this, albeit a week late….I consider “pretty” to be a perfectly good compliment; it simply has different parameters than terms like “beautiful” . To me, “pretty ” means something that gives pleasure to see or otherwise experience with the senses, without any deeper emotional resonance. An older lady can be pretty, or a flower, a scent, a cat, a pair of shoes, a melody. Beauty, while it includes sensory pleasure also connotes a quality that transcends it—and ventures into the invisible qualities within that move us. Jane Goodall is beautiful. A sunrise. Michaelangelo’s Pieta. One of the most beautiful images I ever saw was a photo of a Japanese mother tenderly bathing her son who was terribly deformed from mercury poisoning. It was also the most painfully heartrending, but beauty can be painful, it is a much more complex concept than prettiness. My Grandmother was both pretty and beautiful; she was a sweet-faced, rosy cheeked woman with sparkling brown eyes all of her life, but you had to know her life story to really know how beautiful she was.