I will begrudgingly admit that I had a short stint with Sabrina's Secrets and part way through a car journey to Newcastle, I bought a single issue of Sugar - the Blazin' Squad edition (the shame).
All I saw was imperfection upon imperfection. Why hasn't my 3 year old mastered the alphabet in English, Spanish and Japanese? Why did my child tell the Postman to Foxtrot Oscar? And why isn't my home like a Next catalog? I bought all the damn cushions.
When I was a teenager I was more worried about whether I had the complete scented gel pen collection; not a complete lip contouring kit. What are we doing to our children? When I say we, I mean the journalistic scum that will sell their mother for a slice of the front page. The bullies that humiliate the rich and famous in an attention seeking hope of at least one viral post. Just stop.
Who is perfect? Everyone. Everyone is perfect; rearranged or not. So can we please stop showing fake people in magazines and start showing real people?
For every lipstick sold behind filters and photoshop, one person breaks for not being good enough. Is that ok?