Vapids need not apply

Here’s the thing. I’m not saying it was the best way, but my parental units didn’t put a whole lot of emphasis on me being pretty. Yes, of course my parents told me I was pretty, we aren’t savages…what I’m trying to say is my parental units emphasized more than me being pretty and appealing to boys, was that I should be smart. My brothers, the golden twins, were lucky. They were both smart and good looking and tall and skinny, but I’m not bitter. I, on the other hand, while pretty, am neither tall, nor skinny…nor was I ever. That’s just not the way I was built. I do, however have fantastic stems, a great Cheshire smile, nice boobs and a bitchin personality…but I digress.
My parental units weren’t pushing me to play with dolls and place house and school, like the other girls. I didn’t sleep in rollers (yes, that used to be a thing), or wear fancy dresses to school. I didn’t have much interest in putting makeup on the giant Barbie head that everyone had. I was more interested in science, and making rounds with my dad, and reading, lots and lots of reading. My parental units encouraged this, and stressed how important it was to be a well rounded, educated, cultured individual who was capable of making her own decisions…but never in there was she to be pretty. I didn’t even realize it was a thing until I went to high school. Sure, I know my toe headed girlfriends were conventionally pretty. They wore smocked dresses and little sandals and bows in their hair. I, the more practical one of the group, didn’t have enough hair to affix a bow to. And because my toe headed girl friends were also sweet and kind and funny, it just never occurred to me that people would like them more because they were prettier than me. I thought we were all likable for the same reason…our personalities…and then I went to high school.
For the record, EVERY girl at my high school was super pretty. Like, seriously pretty. They were all tall and had shiny long hair. I looked like the biggest goober smacker that ever landed on that school’s pristine steps. I remember thinking, after our dorm orientation, that I couldn’t find one other girl with dark hair. OR, one chubby girl!! Now, before ya’ll start feeling sorry for me, don’t. First of all, I, of course, was SUPER popular in high school and everyone loved me because I’m super funny and awesome. And, I will cut a bitch. But, I still remember that day when I realized that…shocker…girls that are pretty get better stuff. There, I said it, cute girls get away with more. It’s just a universal law. I’m not saying it’s right, but I’m right. Super pretty girls get away with murder, and, like a pavlovian response, it reinforces behavior and before you know it you’re a vapid trophy wife who can’t remember what fun was.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. I love ALL you pretty bitches out there, you know who you are. But what makes you pretty bitches so damn pretty isn’t just how hot you are. The vapids never got a chance to develop on the inside. Things like smarts and wits aren’t encouraged in the vapids. They must be docile and compliant. Things like breast implants and LV bags are encouraged in vapids. But the vapids never really understand what you’re talking about when you say things like, “global warming” or “ebola”. But, bless their little hearts, they are needed. Vapids must exist because without them, shallow douche bags would have no one to marry. Just look at all those housewives on TV, their hubbies are douchey as hell. Without those botox saturated women, those douche rockets would be free roaming out there trying to buy us Long Island Ice Teas…barf.
Anyhoo, back to high school…thankfully we wore uniforms because, lord, my good taste did not develop early. But armed with my wit, sarcasm and said physical attributes mentioned above, I did alright with the fellas. And had loads of super gorgeous girlfriends who’s parental units had also raised them right so they were both smart and pretty, those bitches! After that first day, that initial shock this small town girl experienced at the big city fancy school, those feelings of not being pretty enough disappeared. Once again the values that my parental units instilled in me worked out for this gal. If you are smart and kind and funny, you will be just as desirable as the vapid, if not more.
Fast forward to one fall evening in downtown Charleston, when a young, pretty girl with a killer Cheshire smile and stems, walked her smart ass into a little bar on Broad Street and laid eyeballs on future hubs. Now, I can’t believe I’m about to admit this to the entire world (the hubs will NEVER let me live this down), but in full disclosure…he was a bit out of my league. Older, wiser, blah, blah, blah…I was smitten immediately. He, not so much. But, because I’m not a vapid, we are still happily laughing our fannies off everyday even after 14 short years. I know, barf, we love each other…Now, I’m not saying that the hubs hadn’t had his fair share of vapids before I came along, but vapids usually have very little staying power. Pretty and dumb rarely wins out over funny and smart in the long haul, young ladies. Hell, I’m way funnier and smarter than I was 20 years ago, and I sure as shit can’t say my looks have gone in that same direction.
So, while I think that your kids look super cute in their smocked dresses and their bows, remember to make them have a pavlovian response to good grades and creativity and wit and humor and kindness and extra book reads and trips to the planetarium and violin lessons and soccer and archery or whatever that little freak is interested in. Cultivate smarts and practicality and independence and confidence based on internal fortitude, not placation and ditziness with an airbrushed face. We will let the vapids of the world pass their vapidness through their children…someone has to marry that guy in jean shorts…thankfully, he’s rich!