August 27th, 2025

​UGLY IS A MODERN INVENTION.
Today was a disaster. It started off as a fabulous family boat trip on our favourite, The Black Pearl, but quickly disintegrated into chaos. A refreshing swim stop in the gorgeous Blue Lagoon turned into a beauty meltdown. My freshly installed hair extensions fused into one giant knot. Three hours in the salon later, half of them had to be cut out. A gel tip nail fell off mid-way through the day. And to top it off? My strip lashes peeled off and floated away in the sea like a tragic mermaid moment.
I drove home full of self loathing.
My daughter noticed I was quiet and asked what was wrong. I told her just didn’t feel good about myself, I felt ugly. Her reply was instant and cutting in the kindest way: "Mum, if you think you’re ugly, what does that make us, your children, who all look like you?”
I felt sick with guilt as the last thing I want to do is drop my plastic insecurities onto them. And then she added something that really stuck: “Before the 20th century, people didn’t even know what they looked like. Mirrors were rare. Portraits were for the rich. People weren’t obsessed with being attractive, they didn’t even know what that meant.”
And it got me thinking. As usual, she’s not wrong. It’s only in the last 80 years or so that we’ve become fixated on image. We call it self-care, but so much of it is just well-packaged insecurity. We’ve been sold the idea that beauty is empowerment but it’s just well marketed bullshit which I have built a career around. We’re drowning in the pressure to be seen, polished and perfect.
When I left my husband, the man who never really cared how I looked, I reinvented myself. I threw myself into beauty. Expensive skincare, hair extensions, designer makeup, nails, lashes, botox, aesthetics. You name it, I got it as I wanted to feel worthy again. I wanted to be visible, to look and feel beautiful.
But maybe, just maybe he was right to care less. Maybe I’ve been performing ever since. Exchanging one kind of neglect for another, a shinier one, sold to me by expensive brands that don’t know my name but know exactly how to make me feel not good enough.
Today reminded me that this version of vanity is man-made and very modern. We didn’t always live this way. And some days, I feel like I’m still acting in a role I never auditioned for.
So here’s to the mess: the lashes that don’t stick, the hair that tangles, the face without foundation. I know beauty isn’t in the mirror. Without sounding like a cliche, it’s reflected in your soul.
Your strength, your kindness, your honesty and your attitude is what undoubtably makes you beautiful but some days, it’s hard to believe that’s enough.
And sadly here’s the truth I’m not proud of: I know it’s fake but I’m not ready to let go.
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