It’s been awhile since I’ve done one of these and now here’s Christy Turlington, interviewed in the Telegraph, as excerpted by New York Mag’s The Cut:

On whether she considered her looks a curse:

“I used to think so, but I don’t any more. When I was 18, and my looks were what I was – and all that I was – it did feel very limiting. It got to the point where I wondered what I was doing. But modeling gave me the kind of confidence that a lot of girls in their teenage years don’t have. In the end, I think that the industry saved me from having to be self-conscious.”

On charity work versus modeling:

“[T]here’s nothing rewarding about modeling. It was a fun opportunity that allowed me to see the world but spiritually and intellectually there is nothing rewarding about the profession at all.”

On being a supermodel:

“Maybe our body types were more feminine, but I often felt that we were too glamorous. Because I’m not very glamorous it didn’t feel true to me. I relate far more to the fashion of today than the Chanel miniskirts and Versace jackets of that time. Plus, having to wear all that make-up — what a waste! Cindy was much more that kind of persona; I don’t think the ‘sexy girl’ thing is my image at all — I get more attention from females.”

On doing runway shows:

“Actually, I hated that part more than anything. I just remember thinking: ‘How fast can I get to the end and back again?’”

I’m not going to do the “how whiny to complain about the gig that made you rich and famous and able to advocate for maternal health in third world countries like you’re doing now” thing, because these quotes are taken completely out of context, and it’s totally likely that Christy spent the rest of the interview explaining how this emotional journey led her to the place she’s in now and all that jazz. Celebs love to talk like that. Besides, it seems like she has a fairly nuanced view on the whole phenomenon (otherwise known as her life). I like that she acknowledges how modeling gave her more confidence than your average teenage girl — it’s nice to hear that constant validation about your appearance has the expected pay-off of making you feel good, rather than the same old “but I was so gawky and unpopular in high school!” stuff.

Of course, it would be awfully nice if the standard that Christy met so easily (equating awesome self-esteem and free clothes for her) was applied less ferociously to the rest of the world. And if maybe being a fashion & beauty superstar was a little less rewarded — since even she acknowledges that “there’s nothing rewarding” about that job.

Onward.

And yes, I know, what even IS this? A Beauty Overheard post on a Friday, not a Pretty Price Check? Your mind = blown, right?

Well, I figured, we Price Checked on Monday, so things are already a little wacky this week. And maybe you haven’t had a chance to read this long post I wrote about Newsweek’s Beauty Advantage package, plus you haven’t taken seven minutes yet to watch The Story of Cosmetics video. (Which, by the way, has the industry hopping mad. Whee!)

I don’t want to distract you with that much on your plate. But I will say, so you can also be in the know, that the other BIG cosmetics news this week is the Safe Cosmetics Act of 2010. (The industry is fricking mad about that too.) So I’m working away on a kind of Price Check on Steroids post to tell you everything you need to know about that bill and the industry’s counter-proposals. But in the meantime, click all those places I helpfully highlighted for you to get the basics — and if you support the bill, write to your Congressperson to let them know.

[Photo: Christy Turlington by Patrick McMullan, via New York Magazine's The Cut.]

“You know, when I said beauty school was hot, I was just playing with you,” he said. “I know that place is crappy and mind-numbing. And I think it’s great that you do it anyway. I think you’ve got guts for trying to change your life.”

This essay isn’t really about beauty school. It’s about Jillian Lauren, a recovering heroin addict/prostitute who tries to reclaim her middle-class Jewish Good Girl self via a Brides‘ Magazine-worthy wedding to the perfect guy, until she realizes that the fairytale ending would require her to ditch her “disaster” self, even the parts of that girl that are worth keeping. The couple elopes in a small, cloudy sunset wedding instead: “Not at a happy ending, but at a quiet and hopeful beginning.”

But the story starts with Lauren in beauty school post-rehab, because, “I was just desperately trying to find a career that would pay my rent, lend some stability to my days and maybe afford me some time to write in the evenings.”

And that resonates with me because it’s a version of what so many of my Beauty U. classmates are doing: Hoping for a career to replace a dead-end job, to pay off old debt, to make rent, to support their kids. They don’t expect Beauty U to send them to the moon because they’re done with those kinds of hopes and dreams, if they ever even had them in the first place. And frustration sets in when they realize that beauty school is, in fact, just as crappy and mind-numbing as whatever it is that they’re trying to get away from by coming here.

But at the same time, I don’t want to downplay the fact that there are Beauty U students who are hoping for more. Campbell spends at least twenty minutes a night painting her lips with dark red glitter, or perfecting someone’s smoky eyes. She upends her makeup case and a collection of jewel-toned eye shadows and face glitters spill out and they look so pretty, you want to eat them all with a spoon. We call her brand of makeup applications “The Sexy Pirate” (as in, “Did you see how Campbell went all Sexy Pirate on Meg’s eyes?”) but she’s really, really good.

And when Campbell nails the perfect pink-and-gold combination on someone’s eyelids, she becomes so overjoyed, she breaks out in song, which makes everyone laugh and feel overjoyed and gather around to ooh and ahh over the amazingness that she has created.

Which is pretty great. Because Campbell is a single mom and just got laid off from her job as an Applebee’s waitress and is babysitting her cousin’s kids to pay the bills right now. She takes Beauty U very seriously, asking smart questions about how she can improve her customer service skills and taking copious notes when we have a guest speaker. She brings her makeup case in every night so we can practice, since the Beauty U-supplied makeup is utter crap.

Back to this Modern Love essay: “So beauty school, in my opinion, was not hot,” writes Jillian Lauren. “Beauty school was humiliating. Beauty school was penance. I definitely didn’t want any cute guys popping by to see me doing hot roller sets in my regulation white smock.”

I read that and think yes. For us it’s a regulation black apron, and there is much talk of burning them in the school parking lot on graduation night.

But I also think about Campbell. And I want it to be clear: Beauty school, regulation aprons, draconian attendance policies and being treated like a naughty five-year-old for bringing in a contraband water bottle — these things are not hot and they are humiliating, for sure.

But beauty school students? These are women who can make amazing glitter eyes happen. Who make me laugh so hard I probably shouldn’t talk to them while I’m holding tweezers. Who will lend you money for the break room vending machine when it eats your dollar yet again or pick you up when your car breaks down even if you live 20 minutes away. Who help each other strategize better custody arrangements with their exes and bring in bags of old baby clothes to share.

So they are the very epitome of Hot. If you ask me.

“I’m using the choose-your-battles kind of parenting,” Mrs. Pometta, an independent publicist from Plainfield, Ill., reasoned in a telephone interview. “I figured, better that she’s informed and has the right tools than she goes into it blindly with her friends in the bathroom and comes out looking like a clown.”

Mrs. Pometta’s daughter, Alyssa, is 11, and among the 18 percent of 8-12 set who wear mascara regularly (15 percent wear eyeliner and lipstick).

Now I get the “better she’s informed” argument when it comes to your kid and safe sex. I get it when it comes to letting your child have a sip of wine at dinner. Because  these are life experiences that have pretty dire consequences if they go badly. The worst-case scenario that Mrs. Pometta is warding off? “Looking like a clown.”

Alyssa is 11. And wearing makeup. Of course she should look like a clown! She should be playing around, figuring out what she likes and dislikes, putting on purple eye shadow at sleepover parties and expressing herself and what not.

But Mrs. Pometta isn’t talking about sleepover parties. She’s talking about Alyssa wearing makeup every day. To cover blemishes, lengthen her eyelashes, make her lips more pink. In short, to cover up what she perceives to be her flaws.

And by taking Alyssa for that makeover, Mrs. Pometta let her know that she sees those flaws, too.

PS. While clearly, I think this article could have done a better job of digging into the body image ramifications of this trend, I was psyched to see writer Douglas Quenqua take on the environmental-health risks of kids putting all this crap on their faces. Plus, excellent quote by our friend Stacy Malkan, author of Not Just a Pretty Face, and spokesperson for the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics. Yay!

Via Jezebel (click here to watch the video if you can bear Larry King’s inane interviewing style):

Last night, Jane Fonda appeared on Larry King Live to plug the launch of World Fitness Day. Fonda, 72, admitted she “caved” after swearing off plastic surgery in 2000, saying, “If I was really brave, I would’ve not.” Fonda said she didn’t want to lie about it, and though she doesn’t feel proud about going back on her vow, she said it’s her prerogative, and that she wants to look on the outside how she feels on the inside (she purposely did not use cosmetic procedures to address her crow’s-feet and laugh lines because she likes them).

So add Fonda to the list of aging celebrities who feel bad about their necks (and other body parts). Which makes me a little sad — Jane Fonda (ofallpeople) should feel darn good about how she looks. Or should we file this under “at least she’s refreshingly honest about it?” (Demi Moore, I’m looking at you.)

Not sure. I do appreciate when celebs are straight-up about the pressure they face to look the way they do, because it’s a healthy reminder for the rest of us that they live in a weird, overly photographed little world and we shouldn’t try to apply their crazy standards to ourselves. (Instead, we should count ourselves lucky that we get to earn a living without photos of our every stretch mark appearing in national magazines.)

But I think I’d appreciate it even more if they used their fame to take a stance against that crap.

What’s your take?

[Photo from Fonda's own blog post about her Larry King appearance, which she wrote while in the bath, above.]

Because of this little moment, from Vanessa Grigoriadis’ feature in the current issue of New York Magazine:

At five-two and 100 pounds, with her hair styled into a mod blonde bob, she looked flush from a strict diet of starvation: “Pop stars should not eat,” she pronounced. She was young, skinny, and blonde, but she had a prominent Italian nose, the kind of nose that rarely survives on a starlet.

Feministing’s Jos registered her frustration about this yesterday, saying:

Gaga gets a lot of credit from feminists (myself included) for creating a pop art space where marginalized young people who feel like freaks and weirdos can be at home. So it’s disappointing to see her speak so flippantly about the dangerous body image issues and disordered eating that is supported and encouraged through pop culture. At the same time, the honesty is almost a relief – at least Gaga is being open about the expectation that female celebrities starve themselves. Now we just need to change that standard.

On board with the standard-changing plan. Though I do wonder if Lady Gaga thinks a moronic food comment is all part of her character/identity crisis; a minute earlier in the story, she insists that Lady Gaga is her real name, and calling her Stefani means “you don’t really know me at all.” (Grigoriadis notes, “I never thought she was going to actually be Lady Gaga” and describes the pop star speaking with an accent that’s half British Madonna and half robot.)

Still and all, it would be nice if Lady/Stefani/whoever the heck she is could get behind pop stars eating lunch every now and then. (Also if my local radio DJs could lay off “Bad Romance” for a week or two, so I can finally get it out of my head.)

PS. Darlings, I am highly aware that with all the Feminist Carnival excitement this week, I haven’t gotten you any Beauty U updates. Trust me, it’s not for lack of  stories. A lot has been happening — so much that I needed to take a few days to process and put it all together for you. So you get something a little better than my first response, which is more or less “WTF waxing!!!” Yes. Waxing. So please, keep checking this space. (Adding me to your RSS feed is a grand way to stay on top of everything Beauty Schooled, hint, hint!) I’ll have fresh tales from the trenches starting Monday.

Meanwhile, if you’re just joining us here Beauty Schooled (perhaps because you’re discovering me via cross-posts on Feminist Blogs or Feministing’s Community Blog) take this time to get caught up with all my esthetics adventures (from week 1 to 19!) here.

[Photo: New York Magazine]

Skin lightening has been a recurring theme over at Beauty U lately, as I’m finding that almost every woman of color who comes in for a facial asks what we can do to even out her darker spots, and will a glycolic peel help? (My answers: Not much and only if you like the idea of acid being poured on your face.)

So I’m intrigued by this bit from an interview (by Thomas Rogers over on Salon) with Princeton history professor Nell Irvin Painter, author of The History of White People:

It’s conspicuous that many of the scientists who were trying to determine the “most superior” white race were obsessed with figuring out which race was best-looking.

Physical beauty and race were thought to be something physical and permanent that can be passed down generation to generation, but if you look at magazines from the 1960s or the 1920s, you see that ideas of beauty change. What I find so fascinating is that if you look carefully at the faces of many models today, they would not have passed as beautiful in the middle of the 20th century. Now we look more at bodies. We like bodies to be very thin — like thinness is beauty.

Every few years there also seems to be a new fashionable ethnicity for runway models — one year it’ll be Russians, the next it’s Brazilians.

It’s called fashion for a reason. Popular culture is a many-splendored thing. I was in New York recently, where I saw a great big billboard of Kimora Lee Simmons, who is a brown person who is an embodiment of beauty. Then if you look at a fashion magazine, you’ll see a parade of white people selling things. You can find it all.

In the 1960s you couldn’t find that kind of array [of people], partly because there weren’t so many outlets, but also because these markets were not seen as big. As brown-skinned people got more money to buy things, what they wanted to see began appearing in advertising. It’s all bound up with advertising and marketing and purchasing.

So, the more brown-skinned people have the economic power to buy things, the less pressure society will put on them to look whiter. I guess that’s progress… of a sort.

(If you’ve overheard some interesting beauty talk, email it to me at beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com. Oh and while we’re on the subject of email, thanks to Katherine for pointing out yesterday that the email address has been misspelled on my About page for, well, way too long. If you’ve emailed me at beautyschoolproject@gmail.com and didn’t hear back, please resend and I’m so sorry!)

Well here’s Robert Pattinson on surviving the cover shoot for the March issue of Details:

“I really hate vaginas. I’m allergic to vagina. But I can’t say I had no idea, because it was a 12-hour shoot, so you kind of get the picture that these women are going to stay naked after, like, five or six hours. But I wasn’t exactly prepared. I had no idea what to say to these girls. Thank God I was hungover.”

And yet — here he is, manning up to shoot rape fantasy images like this one, despite this naked model presumably having the offensive lady part in question.

I love when actors are even creepier than the repressed, blood-sucking control freaks they play on the big screen.

(Via Salon’s Broadsheet, which sums it all up just perfectly. Second photo via Details.)

My favorite, from the story Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes:

“Christ, it’s embarrassing–I start thinking about this goddam poem I sent her when we first started goin’ around together. `Rose my color is. and white, Pretty mouth and green my eyes.’ Christ, it’s embarrassing–it used to remind me of her. She doesn’t have green eyes–she has eyes like goddam sea shells, for Chrissake.”

[Have you heard something — good/bad/ugly or just plain interesting— about being pretty? Send your quotes to beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com and I’ll post ‘em here. Names changed, of course, so scout’s honor for accurate reporting.]

“Sometimes Tabitha looks terrible, sometimes Aurelia looks lovely — it’s really too soon to say.  But you do wonder, what will they be?”

[Have you heard something pretty unbelievable about being pretty? Send your quotes to beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com and I’ll post ‘em here. Names changed, of course, so scout’s honor for accurate reporting.]