We all judge people on looks

We are all somewhat superficial. Looks are an easy way to gauge the physiological and genetic stature of a potential mate (someone with one non-functional eye and no legs probably won’t be any good at fending off savage beasts), and so evolution has designed human beings to judge other members of the species largely on their appearance. We all do it, however vehemently some of us might try to deny it. Why else would our favourite magazines be filled with advice from the arcane and mysterious world of fashion about what to wear and, much more importantly, what not to wear?

Thousands of products designed specifically to mask the hideous blemishes and other imperfections that afflict us litter the shelves of almost any pharmacy you could name. We strive endlessly to improve our appearance because we know how important it is, with wonderful television shows like Extreme Makeover actively encouraging us to hack our repulsive faces apart in the name of beauty.

For both the less aesthetically pleasing members of the public and those semi-humans so unbearably hideous that they refrain from most social interaction (among whom I sorrowfully count myself), this almost universal preoccupation with the cool and sexy is fairly dispiriting. Shows like Entourage do their level best to make you feel suicidally inadequate unless you happen to be a gorgeous billionaire actor, while the mere sight of the buxom beauties in Desperate Housewives sends most women into a mad frenzy of jealousy.

New toothpastes, moisturisers, and hair products are marketed to the downtrodden, unsightly masses, and those masses, motivated by sheer self-loathing, buy them in enormous numbers. We try so insanely hard to make ourselves look presentable that, paradoxically, most of our efforts simply exacerbate the problem, fueling an extremely powerful low self-esteem engine.

We try so insanely hard to make ourselves look presentable that, paradoxically, most of our efforts simply exacerbate the problem

Despite some minor successes in modifying ourselves, we remain largely the same, and, unfortunately, so does the importance of our appearance. What a conundrum! What on earth is there to do? Are you destined to become as unhealthily bitter and angry as it is becoming increasingly obvious I am? Well, as an unattractive individual myself, I find it productive and moderately therapeutic to channel my resentment and rage into small, barely read columns in university newspapers. This somewhat alleviates the crushing misery of my virtually intolerable existence. I jest, of course (but, depressingly, only very slightly).

The search for a happy middle ground is the goal as far as this issue is concerned. The opinions of other people (be they respected friends or anonymous simpletons) are rarely worth ignoring entirely or taking so seriously that they send you into a spiraling depression. Appearance is important, and people do make judgements based on it, but take solace in the fact that different people often appreciate different looks, one of which may be yours (sadly for me, the scruffy, gangly student look isn’t currently in vogue). There is much, much more to you, and everyone else, than your appearance, and if you’re still not convinced, there’s always Extreme Makeover.