Vanity,
as a personal attribute, has a really bad rap, and I don’t think it’s entirely
deserved. It’s true that excessive concern for one’s appearance leads to
extreme dieting and harmful cosmetic surgeries, but a certain amount of vanity
can be healthy. I know that because I’m vain, and it serves me well. When I’m depressed I don’t care how I look, which is a typical symptom of depression. If I’m feeling low, but not so low that I can manage to put on a face and don some nice clothes, the finished product I see in the mirror lifts my spirits a little, albeit temporarily. “Practised” properly, however, vanity has longer lasting effects.
Vanity is part of the reason I practise yoga. Yoga doesn’t just help me spiritually and psychologically, it keeps me looking fit and trim. If I wanted only the mental health benefits I get from yoga, I’d stick to meditation alone. But I want to look good, too, so I practise to maintain a certain level of grace and ease as I move through my daily life off the mat.
A good friend of mine once told me that he was one of the most superficial people he knew. I was rather shocked to hear him say that, until I fully understood what he meant. In the 35 years I’ve known him I’ve never seen this “superficial” friend of mine be rude, unkind, lose his temper, or make a fool of himself. He refuses to engage in crude, hostile, aggressive behaviour because it’s ugly and destructive. He’s also given me some of the best advice I’ve ever had - It doesn’t matter what happens, my dear, as long as you look good.
Those words are by no means
as ill-conceived and shallow as they seem. My sage friend was saying that we
can’t control everything that happens to us – and shit happens, it’s a part of
life – but we can choose how we
react. Responding to the most trying of circumstances with strength and grace looks
a lot better than having a meltdown. Besides, getting into an unseemly flap only
makes matters worse. In his novel Girl on a Swing, Richard Adams described someone who has a nervous breakdown as a person who no longer cares about appearances. When I first read those words many years ago, I realised how I must look when I acted out my despair for all to see, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. I was an aspiring actress at the time, and my cringe-worthy, off-stage histrionics had a lot to do with my need to be heard. The good news is I got the attention I needed; the bad news is I sometimes made a pathetic spectacle of myself. Yikes.
I still need some form of dramatic self-expression, which is why I pay so much attention to my appearance. If the only way I can express my best and most attractive self is to focus on my appearance, then that’s what I do, because costumes and makeup are some of the actor’s most useful tools. Oscar Wilde, who was a major proponent of the cult of Beauty, once said that one should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art. And there’s another reason I practise vanity- because I aspire to a life of Beauty.
Being vain would seem to
belie my yoga practice. A true yogi shouldn’t be concerned with how she looks on
the mat, nor compare herself to others in class. Although I’m well aware of
that, I frequently fail to leave my ego outside the studio doors. I also have
the very unyogi-like habit of checking myself out in mirrors and shop windows,
but those moments of apparent narcissism are to make a note of my carriage and
alignment, and not to admire myself. Honest. And given the choice between embarrassing, self-absorbed habits, or not
giving a damn if I look like crap, I’ll take the former any day. Self-maintenance gets more time consuming as we get older, and if we don’t take the time to keep ourselves as healthy as possible, the body declines more quickly. I’m no longer young, and haven’t been for a long time. Given the current youth-obsessed culture it means I have less reason than ever to be vain. And there’s the irony, because the older I get the more vain I am.
Gyms are filled
with people of all ages working out to stay healthy and fit, but a lot of those
fitness freaks take pride in looking “cut” or “buff”. That’s vanity, plain and
simple. The fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld, a man who’s in the vanity
business, has said that vanity is the
healthiest thing in life. It’s normal and healthy to want to look and feel our finest; to be as beautiful as we can be. At its best, vanity is another way to appreciate Beauty, which is a noble and enlightening pursuit. The poet Rumi said it beautifully - Let the beauty we love be what we do.
- G.P.
