There's a nice meditation on "scars-as-life-map" in the Times; Dana Jennings recalls those acquired in rambunctious boyhood, through acne, as an adult. As he puts it,

But for all the potential tales of woe that they suggest, scars are also signposts of optimism. If your body is game enough to knit itself back together after a hard physical lesson, to make scar tissue, that means you're still alive, means you're on the path toward healing.

I like that a lot. Of course, he's talking about the scarring history we all have, small things - appendicitis scars, sports injuries, childhood galls - not the sort of traumatic record that can raise bad memories and provoke unwelcome stares. That is another matter altogether - not because they are uglier but because they convey much more.

My own body bears witness to chicken pox, bad falls, the odd gash. Most of mine are of more recent vintage: the time I tried to extract an avocado pit with my chef's knife, the countless oven rack-width stripes on my forearms which still haven't taught me to wear an oven mitt when I take pans out. I like them. I remember talking to a friend who said she didn't even mind the scars that were a record of self-harm; they were a reminder that she had moved on, but retained who she'd been. I remember when Tina Fey wouldn't talk about the scar she received as a little girl - which she's now discussed - and thinking that although it told a story to the world, she had chosen to retain the mystery instead. In a funny way, that's a choice she wouldn't have had otherwise - however horrible and traumatic the experience. And few would deny that, when they notice it, it adds character to her beauty.

I have yet to meet anyone who approaches stretch marks and acne scars with anything more than resignation, and that we'll continue to search for a remedy even as the body stubbornly persists in forgetting. Needling involves pricking skin to encourage new collagen. Compression is thought to soften scars by stimulating blood flow. Steroids can thin the scar tisue. None of these remedies can do more than reduce appearance, but for many surely making the effort at perfection is enough. And yet, it's not perfection anyone remembers, except as an amorphous concept. As Moe once memorably put it, "beauty is about decay," and scars are defiantly outside of its parameters. Reading Jennings' piece, I was reminded of a part of Elizabeth Bishop's "The Fish," which better than anything I know illustrates the value of visible experience.

I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
- if you could call it a lip -
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.

Our Scars Tell the Stories of Our Lives [NY Times]

The problem, specifically, is a story titled "15 Years Of Skin." The concept is explained thusly:

"In honor of MC's 15th anniversary, this month we're celebrating a decade-and-a-half of wow-worthy skin. From stars peddling zit zappers and foundations to tanorexics and bronzer-phobes, here's how we put our best face forward."

The "story" is a photo-driven piece in three pages:

Page one: The '90s!


Page two: The early '00s!


Page three: Now and next!


To recap: The '90s was about "ghostly faces"; the '00s was the "rise of the bronzed bombshell," and now, pale is in again — "fair ladies" have "porcelain-pretty" complexions. And even the future is about being light: Fall '09 is "got sunblock?"

So what if — heavens forbid! — your skin is brown? You are represented, in the '90s, by Iman, Halle Berry, and RuPaul. Who is a man. Mariah Carey? Sure, she's half black, but she's bronzed. Also, Marie Claire apparently doesn't even recognize that Asian people have skin.

One interesting thing about this story is that on the three pages that face it, there is a three-part, three-page ad for Olay Pro-X products. It's almost as if the "15 Years Of Skin" story was whipped up at the last minute to support the advertising — something the magazines I have worked for were known to do. Too bad Marie Claire couldn't pull together a story that was a little more inclusive.

Earlier: May Marie Claire: Starlets, Hormones, & Porn Star Preachers
Marie Claire: Be A Green Recessionista With More Stuff!

Could this somehow explain why people in countries with more isolated food systems have such great skin?? (Not that I know, I'm just speculating. Uhhhh, hm.) The thing is, most acne fighting products aren't really going after bacteria at all. It seems like the point of most of them is to dry out the face and/or heal inflammation. I don't know, of course; I am no genius. But, you know, it sort of just occurred to me; for presenting us with so goddamn many words per month on skin care, these magazines have not taught us, like, anything about our skin. Do you think they figure that "remember to invest in a whole new regimen every three months or so" is all we need to know?