But above all, the adolescent girl is condemned to the lie of pretending to be object, and a prestigious one, while she experiences herself as an uncertain, dispersed existence, knowing her failings. Makeup, false curls, corsets, padded bras, are lies; the face itself becomes a mask: spontaneous expressions are produced artfully, a wondrous passivity is imitated, there is nothing more surprising than suddenly discovering in the exercise of one’s feminine functions a physiognomy with which one is familiar; its transcendence denies itself and imitates immanence; one’s eyes no longer perceive, they reflect; one’s body no longer lives: it waits; every gesture and smile becomes an appeal; disarmed, available, the girl is nothing but a flower offered, a fruit to be picked.
Simone de Beauvoir (via seancing)
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