Make-Believing In Makeovers

We've all heard the make-up slogan, "Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline." Christy Turlington, Adriana Lima, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Kristin Davis, and even "Wonder Woman" herself, Lynda Carter, have each frolicked about in the cosmetics company's commercials. And if there's one thing I learned in my undergraduate Communications 101: Visual Persuasion class, it's the power of subliminal messages.

The beauty industry relies on these campaigns—and beautiful spokeswomen—to convince consumers to buy and use certain products. It's a tried-and-true mechanism that has the power to deceive even the most discerning media maven that she has the potential to become as gorgeously effervescent as a world-famous supermodel or actress. It's a no-brainer deception device, and we fall for it time and time again. Are women innately naive and blindly willing to believe in fairy tales and Hollywood endings—or is it possible that beauty wishes can come true?

Personally, I was an awkward adolescent. I was chubby, I had frizzy hair, and I had bad skin. I first became aware of my skin’s "other" status while growing up in a small, WASP-y Connecticut town. Throughout the '80s and '90s, the girls that were considered the prettiest were Caucasian: blond with blue or green eyes, and fair skin. For the most part, that image was reflected in the media as well. I considered Christie Brinkley, Michelle Pfeiffer, and, um, Debbie Gibson, the epitome of feminine beauty.

I'm of Eastern European (Russian, Romanian, German, Polish) and Jewish heritage, so my olive-toned complexion is fairly tan year-round and dark in the summer. If you didn't know me, you might guess I was of Latina, Middle Eastern or Mediterranean descent.