Now that the election is over – though by some, the results are still being contested – maybe we can return to the more “important” things in life to consider, such as whether to bar or not bar our belly buttons at midlife and beyond. This is an important question – surfacing at least once a week when I make a furtive trek out of my home into the Covid infested environment.
Susan Bordo, author of Unbearable Weight: Feminism, Western Culture, and the Body, says contemporary culture has a hankering for a new piece of feminine beauty to focus on. It seems that with the great amount of surgical breast enhancement going on, the bosom’s enduring symbol of femininity has been diminished. The newest location of body fascination to be prized and flaunted is a flat, evenly tanned, taut belly.
I’m grateful for a lot of things. One is that my mother took great care to make sure my belly button was an “innie” and not an “outie.” As it turns out, that’s a good thing. What with everyone’s preoccupation with flaunting their tummies, I wouldn’t want, at age 73, to be at a greater disadvantage than I already am.
Being saddled with a protruding navel is the least of my worries at this stage of life, however. I’ve got other issues needing to be resolved as I ponder the question of whether to bar or not bar my midriff.
Evolutionary psychologists are having a field day. The dilemma of the modern day, affluent woman is once again mired in contrasts. We are wealthy enough to eat what we desire, but hemmed in by societal demands to look emaciated and hungry. And what better billboard to project our self-control and self-righteous denial than our midriffs? The buffer the better.
But barring the navel presents another indicator of sorts for professionals to study. Research suggests that the renewed interest in the stomach area shows what has been known for centuries: abdomens have long been the focus of sexual interest. (Belly dancing was said to have begun as a fertility and childbirth ritual.) The exposed navel is now not only a symbol of youth and self-control, but also of fertility and reproductive power.
Hmmm. I’ve had five kids and some abdominal surgery. My body telegraphs my advanced years with aching accuracy. My belly is white, not tan; fleshy, not taut; scarred, not unblemished. Rooted in reality and complacency, I am not motivated to indulge in a tanning booth, begin a rigorous routine of abdominal tightening exercises, nor go under the knife for plastic surgery to smooth out the scars and tuck the tummy.
Am I doomed to be un-hip? Viewed as powerless and unnecessary?
Not oblivious to the constraints I need to work around, I’m resigned to passing up the opportunity to participate in naval tattooing and donning a dangling navel pin. But I’m eagerly contemplating another couple of holes in my ear lobe and slipping on a few toe rings as necessary accouterments to establish the fact that this aging baby boomer is still not out of the game.
Maybe all that real estate surrounding my navel needs to be viewed in a new light. Barring the taut tummy signals fertility. Keeping it covered could just as readily signal that my mission has been accomplished: fertility has been affirmed and my feminine function fulfilled. Surely the presence of my five sons attests to that.
So, I’m showing some deferred maintenance and signs of exterior aging and obsolescence. Let it be noted that vintage is good and that endurance lends a shining patina to my body’s assets.
And everyone knows that real estate assets should be put to the highest and best use. I’ve appraised my property and decided to keep my personal buffet of features under wrap and undercover. I’m not putting it on the market. Instead, I’m going back to the stage of human development when desirability was based not on over exposure, but on mystery and shadowy sightings. And that is the course I choose to follow.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor