A few hours before I started to write this blog post, Kate Middleton gave birth to a royal baby boy. This seems to be the highlight of everyone’s day. From the time I woke up, it was apparent through social media that Kate Middleton’s vagina was truly being watched by millions around the world. Personally, I don’t care about the birth of this baby any more than I care about anything else going on in England (sorry, that might get me in trouble), but that doesn’t mean I’m not hugely relieved that no medical complications have been reported, YET. Throngs of magazines in the grocery store, television stations, and newspapers have been keeping Americans up to date on Kate’s pregnancy for a while now. While others may have been playing the guessing game over boy or girl, my heart has ached for the possibility of any number of medical conditions that he could be diagnosed with.
But I don’t want this to be a post about how sad it would be (slash will be, who knows?) if the royal baby isn’t perfect. I want this to be a post about how DEVASTATINGLY SAD AND DISSAPOINTED everyone would be if Kate Middleton wasn’t perfect as demonstrated by her not shooting a perfect little baby boy out of her vagina. Maybe some people already know that she isn’t perfect, but from all I see… the pictures of her smiling, pleasant and charming, unthreatening…that is her image.
Kate Middleton’s image has evolved into this perfect, silent young woman.
She has been gracing the covers of tabloids for so long now that I don’t have trouble picturing her face and body in multiple outfits and hats. However, I really don’t think I have ever heard the woman’s voice. Her voice, like many aspects of English history… just wasn’t quite important enough to travel across the pond. Pretty girl, pleasant to look at, easy on the eyes, not really offensive looking in any way, or particularly sexy…
Whatever, whatever… Kate Middleton, blah blah blah. I’m pretty sick of this whole THING around her, and am even a little embarrassed to be dedicating my bi-weekly blog post to her. So from here, I’ll switch it up: I was at a graduation party this weekend that I really didn’t want to be at. And so, naturally, while walking up the driveway to this dreaded event, I proclaimed to my mother, “It is going to be very difficult for me to control my facial expressions at this here shindig.” By this, I meant that there was no way in hell I had the energy to illuminate the scene with a fake smile. Fake is exhausting, I just can’t do it. Wouldn’t you know that not even 20 minutes later this LADY (someone’s grandmother? My cousin’ grandmother on the other side? NO, was it my cousin’s mother in law? Who cares?) yelled at me to “SMILE!”
Barf. Gag. Punch (I wish I could have).
She later revealed that she wanted me to smile, because I reminded her of Kate Middleton, and she needed me to smile so that she could get a better idea. NO, lady. How about you ask me some questions, get to know me, and then decide if my PERSONALITY matches hers or anyone else’s PERSONALITY that you’re familiar with.
The bottom line is that young women, like Kate Middleton, are silenced when they give the world their smile. It’s like, Kate’s pretty face has been circulated so much that that’s all we need from her. Her smile has eliminated our curiosities about her character. We know that she is “pleasant,” “delightful,” “charming.” She smiles for everyone, and that has made everyone perfectly content with her to the extent that that is all they want from her.
Don’t get me wrong, I think there are definitely appropriate times to smile. I smile when I submit a final paper or when a professor lets me out of class 5 minutes early. I smile when my mom brings my cat into my bedroom to wake me up in the morning. I REALLY smile when I get eggplant parm. But I don’t smile just to make someone else happy, and I sure as hell don’t smile, JUST BECAUSE, and neither should you.