While in college, I took so many art history classes that I could have declared it a minor area of study. Impressionist painting’s soft ambiguity uses light and form, inviting the viewer to step into the painting and experience it in their own unique way. I also found this style to be a beautiful means by which the artists could express themselves. In defying tradition, they could be themselves.
Another type of impressionism, however, has plagued me since I was a young girl and has had the opposite effect on me. I took to heart the saying, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” Always a people-pleaser, I always wanted to make a good first impression.
I began to care more about what others thought of me than what I thought of myself. My first impressions of strangers became how I judged myself. As preposterous as that is, especially at the tender age of 11, many people of all ages today uphold that standard whether they’re conscious of it or not.
My introduction to these influences was found in women’s magazines in the 1960s and 1970s. My mother didn’t purchase many of these magazines, but the women for whom I babysat had lots of them. These magazines were also where I found the latest weight loss diet ideas, which had a powerful impression on me for decades. There’s that word again: impression.
The various diets I tried during those years were akin to attending an eating disorder boot camp.
Other publications that had a lasting effect were teen magazines. When I was 11, a group called The Monkees debuted as a singing group and also had a TV show, which I watched religiously. By then, I was doing a little babysitting and those earnings, along with my weekly allowance, enabled me to buy teen magazines at my neighbourhood corner drug store. At that impressionable age, I poured over stories about various teen idols and their likes and dislikes.
One story shared the weight of one of the Monkees’ wives. Perhaps that is where the preferred number for my weight originated. I can only assume this is true because I had no prior concept of weight. Another story, in an interview with a different teen idol, listed the qualities he looked for in a girlfriend. One item that stood out to me was that he noticed if the fabric around the buttons on her clothes was ironed properly. Seriously. My young brain latched onto that little nugget like a magnet.
What’s really annoying is that to this day, more than five decades later, each time I iron a garment with buttons, that guy’s ‘preference’ pops into my head. Is that where my obsession with having no wrinkles in my clothes came from? I’ll never know, but it seems a reasonable possibility.
Everyone consumes media, but especially vulnerable young people. In today’s social media, it is more prevalent and dangerous than ever. Online bullying is rampant and does severe damage to the mental and physical health of young people, but all ages are affected. Advertisements on television and online about weight loss drugs or cosmetic surgery abound, putting thoughts in everyone’s heads about what is “healthy.” Beware: diet culture broadcasts its lies to make money.
We are also told that to be worthy—or attractive enough to be considered worthy—we need our hair, makeup and smiles to look a certain way. Have you noticed that many female reporters and newscasters on TV wear false eyelashes and have unnaturally white teeth? Before long, these trends become standards by which the rest of us feel we must live and judge ourselves accordingly.
Propaganda is designed to make money for the companies behind the advertising. It sends messages that, even when untrue, become embedded in our minds whether we want them there or not. How many eating disorders are born out of viewers consuming this content? Millions of people are living in a state of dissatisfaction with their bodies and their worthiness. It is heartbreaking.
Society dictates a rigid, concrete description of how things should be, an unattainable standard for most people. There is little room for unique interpretation or independent thought, which steals personal power from its audience, a little bit at a time, over and over again.
The Impressionists’ paintings invite viewers to immerse themselves in the ethereal scenes on the canvas, allowing each person’s feelings to take precedence above all else. The viewer is encouraged to look at the paintings with an open mind, bringing their own life experience to the moment. Why can’t we do that with ourselves?
I’ve been impressionable in the past, but now I’m taking a new approach. I’m choosing to change how I interpret being that “impressionable” and take back my power to be however I am rather than how society and diet culture tell me I should be. Similar to gazing at an Impressionist painting, I will allow myself to interpret the messages society telegraphs in a way that is true to myself rather than mindlessly buying into them.
Personal actions, such as paying attention to my language and behaviour around others, also matter. People notice these actions and words and absorb them without even trying. I never know what effect I might have on others, so I need to be mindful of the messages I’m sending. We can each make a difference in our own small ways by simply paying attention.
In other words, we can all become Impressionists, one word and action at a time and transform our world into a place of light, acceptance and beauty.