I am not sad, I am not mad, this is just my face.
Growing up as a Japanese woman navigating predominantly white spaces, I was constantly reminded of a singular, unattainable standard of beauty (more on my background here). Blonde hair, large blue eyes, long curly eyelashes, and overly sexualized imagery shaped by a corporate male gaze dominated everything we saw. Even in Hong Kong and Japan, television, toys, and advertisements often featured Caucasian models and ideals as the “standard” of beauty.
For someone like me- with monolids and dark hair- these standards felt alienating and unreachable. Even in Japan, advertisements often showcased people who aligned with Western ideals of beauty: large eyes, tall narrow noses, and long legs. I spent my youth attempting to “fix” what was perceived as “wrong” with me, driven by societal pressures to conform.
Now, as I reflect on my journey, I feel immense sadness for that younger version of myself who wasted so much energy chasing an illusion. The act of “fixing” implies something is inherently flawed, and the question remains: by whose standards? Unfortunately, my story is not uncommon. In this process of “fixing,” it often felt foreign, like I was being pressured to adopt desires that weren’t even mine. The things I was “supposed” to want required convincing to feel “authentic”.
As I’ve grown older and moved to New York, I’ve started shedding these ingrained insecurities and am slowly discovering who I truly am. How absurd it seems now to spend so much money trying to not look like myself. On a planet of 8 billion people, how can beauty be defined in just one way? I believe this applies to all facets of self. Surely, there is more creativity in the human experience than that.
Art plays an enormous role in shaping our perceptions of beauty. From the animations we watch during childhood to the books we read and the advertisements we absorb, these cultural influences profoundly impact our subconscious and how we perceive ourselves. As I delve deeper into Colonial Discourse Theory, including movements such as Orientalism, I’ve become increasingly aware that these “ideals” often stem from inherently racist origins. As an artist, I strive to always keep this in mind. We bear a significant responsibility when we produce work. Just because you can paint something doesn’t mean you should.
Some of the images I’ve been capturing reflect moments from my daily life. They are not about passing judgment on whether they are good or bad, but rather an acknowledgment that images are everywhere.
The sheer number of paintings I’ve seen depicting an Asian woman in a sexualized kimono, often referencing “geisha,” is astounding. These images perpetuate colonial ideas and although the Orientalism movement was primarily about the Middle East, these ideas have spread to other parts of the world. For those interested in understanding this issue further, I highly recommend Edward Said’s Orientalism.
In today’s tech-driven age, we can never predict the long-term impact or virality of our art. This makes it even more crucial to ensure that every image we create is intentional and thoughtfully considered.
When you strip away societal nonsense and abandon the male gaze, there’s a sense of liberation and strength that is truly indescribable. I hope that those grappling with similar struggles can see that the world is far bigger than the narrow “beauty standards” perpetuated within our immediate circles. These standards are the result of centuries of systemic conditioning—but we can break free and define our own.
So here is to 2025: with continuing to break up with ideas of following and embracing the discovery of your authentic self.