The Beautiful Room

by Susan

In the society pages of the latest Park Cities People newspaper—my main research tool for the Debutante Dropout Mysteries, because it chronicles the doings of the Dallas glitterati—I read about a club called “The Beautiful Room,” where you can only gain entry (i.e., a membership) if you’re dubbed great-looking by the owners.

I’m not kidding.

Taken directly from their web site, here’s how they explain the selection process:

“The Beautiful Room is the first social community designed only for attractive people. Our members are hand-selected and are not only beautiful on the outside but are also beautiful on the inside.”

And they can tell inner beauty from a photograph?  Wow, they’re good.

“The Beautiful Room brings together like-minded, local, real, attractive people to socialize, network, date, party, or simply relax together. It is an exclusive, discreet community where membership is by invitation only. Every member is screened on appearance and personality before an invitation for membership is offered.”

Hmm, so I guess they call to assess your personality, huh?  If you’re pretty in print but a conversational dud on the phone, perhaps you'll get the boot…although I'll wager your booty-licious quotient far outweighs any short-comings in the sparkle department (i.e., being unable to discuss subjects other than Paris Hilton or the number of calories in a lettuce leaf).  Anyone else get that feeling?

“Exclusivity is at The Beautiful Room’s core. Equal ratios of men to women are always kept at the community level and at the exclusive events. Every eight weeks, an exclusive event for members only is held at an undisclosed location.  All those that are invited must qualify for attendance or be an existing member of The Beautiful Room.”

Because, God forbid, unattractive people should mingle with attractive people.  Seriously, think of the consequences if a pair who weren’t equally stunning actually hit it off, got married and had a baby.  I mean, what if the baby got the un-prettified partner’s DNA?  The child could turn out positively...average looking.  Gulp. Who cares if the kid is a child prodigy, playing piano like Mozart or painting up a storm like a diapered-Degas.  Isn't appearance everything?  At least at The Beautiful Room in Dallas, it is.

It's no wonder there are such indestructible stereotypes about big blond hair, big breasts, spoiled debutantes, and the beauty pageant mentality associated with Texas.  Too many women (and a growing number of men) want to look just like a Mattel doll.

Yeow.

I'm seriously thinking those dubbed less-than-stunning by The Beautiful Room's owners need to rebel (Sarah, can we send Charlie down to Dallas, considering his inspired near-revolt of the natives of Turks and Caicos?).  Why don't folks start a club called, "The People Who're Gonna Be Happy and Smart Long After The Beautiful People's Looks Are Gone Room," or maybe, "Inner Beauty Room," huh?  Oh, yeah, I could come up with a million of 'em.

No wonder plastic surgery rakes in more bucks in Big D than it does even in Los Angeles, home to Hollywood and un-real babes like Pam Anderson (though, thankfully, our own Harley managed to escape the Curse of the Silicone).

What, you don’t believe me?

According to a story done by WFAA Channel 8 in JR Ewing Country, "Dallas has more plastic surgeons and procedures performed here--per capita--than anywhere else."

Another good quote from the piece:  "Clearly, Dallas is a mecca of plastic surgery.  One could argue, and I think would argue, that Dallas may be the center of the world for plastic surgery," said Dr. Bryan Pruitt, Plastic Surgery Chairman at Presbyterian Hospital.

I lived in Dallas for nine years, but now reside in St. Louis, where plastic surgery profits rank far, far below sales of beer and toasted ravioli.  Well, we’ve got Anheuser-Busch headquartered here and tons of great Italian restaurants, so the typical St. Louis body-type is rather anti-liposuction.  In other words, we’re big on beer bellies.

Y’all can understand why I moved, can’t you?  Just couldn’t keep up with the Botoxed and breast-enhanced Joneses.  (All right, that's not why I moved, but let's pretend 'cuz it fits in well with the piece.)

Plastic surgery to the extreme really scares me.  Have you seen these folks who want to look like Barbie and Ken dolls?  The way their faces seem waxen and completely lack expression? 

Who honestly thinks artificial looks attractive?  Other than Michael Jackson and maybe the self-proclaimed Judges o' the Superficial at The Beautiful Room, I mean. 

I was tempted to apply online to The Beautiful Room just to see if they’d let me in; but I wised up and had a beer and some toasted ravioli instead.

I’m gonna start my own exclusive club, called “The Belching Room.”  If you can burp, I’ll let you in.

Cheers,

Susan (also blogging today at The Literary Chicks and encouraging you to enter a brand-new contest at The Mystery Chicks)

Comments

[Kathy Sweeney aka Smart Tart]

Good grief. So what happens if one of the members becomes - gasp - average looking? Are they stoned to death?

I wouldn't touch the furniture in the interview suite without a hazmat suit.

I'm starting my own club too - you have to be able to eat at least one box of Girl Scout cookies to get in. It'll be called "The Big Room". Bring cookies and be prepared to share. Make it a box of Tagalongs and you get a seat at "The Big Table".

[sarah S]

Okay, I'm in. Sign me up for that there Bee-utiful Room. I got a brand-new pair of winter mocs, my JC Penney jeans and I even clipped my chin hairs...
Hmmm. Toasted ravioli.
BTW - For the record, I am stating here and now that if I ever make it big in this business, the first things I'm going to do (after hydrating Ethiopia) are:
liposuction
tummy tuck
Boob job
I kid you not.

[Josh]

Sarah,

You are just fine as you are. You are loved for your whole self, and your body is not high on the list of what that encompasses.

Or I could say, "Just those three things? What about your lips?"

[Nancy]

Love the accompanying photo of the Jon Benet Ramsey lookalike. Cue music from The Shining. Or the Exorcist, whichever creeps you out more!

[JDRhoades]

"Good grief. So what happens if one of the members becomes - gasp - average looking? Are they stoned to death?"

If there's not a book, or at least a short story, in that, then grits ain't groceries.

[Rob Gregory Browne]

I think I'll start a club called The Monkey Room. Only anthropoids allowed.

Instead of wine and chocolate, we can hang from the ceiling and sling shit at each other.

Anyone wanna join?

[Susan McB]

Kathy, Kathy, that sounds great! I've been known to kick back a box of Thin Mints and Peanut Butter cookies without a breath in between. So count me in.

Rob, you bring back memories of a trip to the zoo in junior high where the s**t slinging in the monkey cave reached scary proportions. I nearly got beaned, but ducked in time.

Sarah, stop it, or Josh and I will have to wave the Jon Benet Barbie over your writhing non-liposuctioned body and do an exorcism while Nancy plays Diana Krall CDs.

Dusty, the wheels are already spinning, incorporating The Beautiful Room into the next Deb Dropout book, which will give it a psycho noir twist, I think.

[Mary R]

Have to laugh. My most Barbie-dollish friend moved from Boston to Dallas. She was crushed. Used to being the best-dressed, best-tressed, only woman with perfect makeup in the room, she wailed that her New England go-to-work beauty routine was quick run to the grocery store level stuff in Dallas.

[Susan McB]

Scary, isn't it, Mary? I remember feeling like I needed to go to the Tom Thumb incognito if I didn't have my hair done and any makeup on. And, once, I actually forgot I had these slide-on, work-around the yard Keds sneakers on...and, man, was that a frightening experience when I looked down and realized it in the cereal aisle. I have never shopped so fast in my life. (Okay, seriously, I had friends there who did not resemble Barbie dolls, so they were more forgiving; but, still, I feel much more comfy grocery shopping in St. Louis bare-faced than I ever did in Big D.)

[Harley]

I'm so scared I may not be able to get out of my jammies this morning. Am I even now traumatizing my children by not wearing makeup to go to carpool?

[Shanna Swendson]

I guess it depends on where you are in the Dallas area, but as long as I stay away from North Park, I never seem to see the Barbies. Let's just say the plastic surgery isn't evenly distributed among the population.

And now I'm having Park Cities People flashbacks. When I was doing PR for the medical school I had to deal with them because that was the best way to reach the major donors.

I never wear makeup to Tom Thumb, but I'm a rebel that way (and I'm in the suburbs).

[Kathy Sweeney aka Smart Tart]

Please tell me that Tom Thumb is some kind of grocery store. Otherwise, scared doesn't even begin to cover it.

[Susan McB]

Kathy, it's a grocery store chain. So you can rest easy.

[Alesia Holliday]

I'm up for the belching room!! Did you see that man on THE VIEW who had undergone 37 different cosmetic surgery procedures? He was terrifying looking - his face truly looked plastic and he thought he looked great. When they asked if he was finished, he said, 'well, except for maintenance.' ScaRY!!
And there was a clip on CNN a while ago about an online dating service that is for beautiful people only. The CNN correspondent got glammed up and sent in her photo, but got turned down. It was funny and frighteningly sad all at once. How many people know all the details of the Jennifer-Brad-Angelina issues but can't name the rights covered in the First Amendment? Really, are we THAT shallow??
Alesia, stepping down off her soapbox to go find some beer and ravioli for lunch

[Maria Y. Lima]

I always knew Dallas (especially the Park Cities crowd) was strangely weird and bizarre, but this is beyond words.

I'm so glad I don't live there anymore.

[daisy]

I'm just going to go ahead and add this to my list of Reasons To Never Leave Northern California- where you can go into a jewelry store in faded jeans, plaid flannel and sneakers and be treated like a rich customer, because for all they know you are one. (Okay, I admit that I don't wear plaid flannel shirts anymore, but my friends do. And my mom. Actually, she's got all my old shirts.)

[daisy]

Oh, and this 'pretty people club'? Someone needs to tell them that high school is over, and they can't go back.

[Susan McB]

There are a lot of normal, nice people in Dallas...but the Park Cities can be a different world altogether, which is why I love setting the Deb Dropout books there. The Park Cities People newspaper is so invaluable (which is why I subscribe). Some of the real-life stuff that goes on...man, I couldn't make it up if I tried.

Daisy, my mom loves to tell the story of my grandfather going to a posh shop to buy something for my grandmother. He dressed in flannel shirts and tan pants (loved red socks, too), so he didn't look like Mr. Rich Dude. Anyway, the salespeople totally snubbed him, and I think he told one as he was leaving, "Too bad you didn't wait on me, as I had cash to spend," at which point he flashed a big ol' wad of bills. Anyway, that's my family's version of "never judge a book by its cover." Or a man by his flannel, as it were.

[Susan McB]

Oh, Alesia, yes, I saw that guy. He wants to look just like a Ken doll, but he looks TOTALLY FREAKY. Argh! I think he must have that body image dysmorphia thing. How he can gaze in the mirror and see "handsome" is beyond me. And what about that woman who wants to look like a cat? Eeeeek! Although, as a writer, people like that provide infinite ideas for odd characters!

[Lisa A.K.A. Pop Tart]

I'd like to start the Smart Ass room. If you cannot come up with a funny/sarcastic response within .0005 seconds of a comment, then you need not apply.

Any takers?

[Jeanna]

I'm not getting plastic surgery unless I can go to Dolly Parton's doctor. Did anyone see her at the Oscars? Her look wouldn't be my own first choice, I admit, but she looks good. Her face is still mobile, she can show emotion, and she still looks like herself! Although I did think she looked a little too thin. . . .

Susan, if there's not a story in The Beautiful Room, there are no stories anywhere!

[Kathy Sweeney aka Smart Tart]

Lisa - sign me up. What kind of cookies should I bring?

[Susan McB]

Lisa and Kathy, so can this room be called "The Eat Girl Scout Cookies, Smart Off, and Belch Room," 'cuz I'm thinking that covers the bases pretty well. ;-)

Jeanna, I missed Dolly at the Oscars, tho' I heard her pantsuit was awful. As for there being a story in The Beautiful Room, you are so right! And I'm gonna use it!

[ZaZa]

I grew up in San Francisco. Until the relatively recent influx of the dot.commers in the 90s, it was a place where you could pretty much do, or wear, what you wanted. At the opera you saw the expected long dresses and diamonds, but you also saw the jeans and t-shirts. Nobody stared. Nobody cared.

Once I and two friends had been painting one of our apartments all day. We were hot, we were paint spattered, and we were hungry. And we all wanted prime rib for dinner. So, we went to the poshest place in town for our meal, we deserved a reward for all our hard work, in our aforementioned condition. The maitre d' asked, "Table for three, ladies," sneerless. We agreed and were seated right next to a table of long dresses and diamonds plus appropriate escorts. No one stared. No one cared.

SF wasn't a city where you worried about not being dressed right (too dressy or not enough) or obssessed over the possibility that someone might show up in the same dress. I guess SF just had a time-honored tradition of live and let live. Not quite the same anymore, but still way down the scale of "the Beautiful Room" measure.

[toni]

Someone ought to tell these beautiful people that by automatically descriminating on looks, they've pretty much negated the possibility of being "beautiful inside." And not that I'd wish anyone pain, but what happens to a beautiful person who gets, god forbid, sick? Cancer?

And I'm all over that smart ass, cookie eating, monkey room. Sounds like my kind of place.

(Sarah, you're gorgeous just like you are. Please don't set a higher standard. I can't live up to the standards now!)