I read an interesting article today from the school newspaper. It was written by Sam Friedman and entitle "Attraction: Scalpel Slaves" so you can guess what the article pertained to. I can't say I was too surprised at the statistics of plastic surgery--the majory of women getting plastic surgery today (particuarly for breast enlargements and noses) are under the age of 34. Also not surprising, a large population of ASU sorority girls are among those numbers, addicted to reshaping their faces and bodies. The article was personal to me because, let's be honest, I have a big nose. From the front it's okay, but let's face it, my profile reveals a big ol' honker. For years I have no less considered but pleaded for a nose job to remedy this, insisting that my facial features would be softer if I had a smaller nose. And perhaps this is true. However, after the reading the article that conquested the desires of the female population to look picture-perfect, I came to a rather unusual conclusion. The more I read about girls getting surgeries and the desire and demand to bear more resemblence to Barbie, the more I was turned-off from the surgical cosmetic world. The article had one quote in particular really struck me hard. When asked about the cosmetic surgery on students of ASU, a tempe surgeon replied, "look at all the beautiful women walking around campus." That statement alone made me immediately flustered; Are girls not beautiful unless they are altered? When was our skin suddenly made out of clay, where society may shape and mold us however it wishes? I wonder, when we all fall under the wicked spell of the Plastic Surgeon, waving their magic wands of knives and silicone, how then will we decide who is perfect if we all look equally the same in beauty? I press upon this simple and president conclusion: Natural imperfections are beautiful. I regret every thought I had ever had of changing my image by plastic hands, because it's just that--MY image. Once they've all starved themselves, filled their lips with juices, pumped their bras with silocone, and sliced their faces into perfect cookie-cutter parts, maybe then, when it's too late, will they realize the value of "ugliness". So from here on out I wear my slightly disporportionate nose with pride. And as I walk down sidewalks of Barbie dolls with pixie noses and puffy lips, I will lift my chin and walk with a Cyrano pride. It is my deepest hope all will do the same, at whatever may be your wonderful flaw, because these unique attributes, these imperfections, will never look so great on anyone else but you. Carrie