According to Simone De Beauvoir and her book "The Second Sex", the younger and healthier a female and the more her fresh and faultless body seems to be endued with eternal brightness, the less practical the artifice is to her; but it is all the time needful to hide from the man the fleshly weak point of the capture he clasps and the run-out that threatens it. Because he is afraid of her unforeseen destiny, because he pictures to himself her changeless, obligatory, a male looks for it on the female visage, on her body and limbs. The precise look of a perfect being.
Even though I would not myself put my body under the blade to develop my looks, except some catastrophe happened calling for some kind of facial restoration, I have no negative views of plastic surgery. I take pleasure in putting on the beauticraft; actually I'll spend a day salary on an eye shadow. I am fond of going to the beauty salon to get my hair cut, dyed, and tinted for half of my salary. I feel excellent afterwards. But I do not make if for males. I do it for the reason that I want to look first-class for myself. I want to have nice hairstyle, fashionable clothes, and a perfect face. I like the way Beauvoir depicts a woman's compulsory, imperative want to modify her body as it ages and worsen. Today as a result of these superficial wishes being attractive, trendy and confident is a luxury. These are the fads and past-times of American women these days.
There is also a stage of general fright along with men which Beauvoir discusses. It shocks me because I am a woman and I can't dream of a man horror of a woman. Life (Mother Nature) encourages male. He uses her, but she mashes him, he is born out of a woman; she is the spring of his life and the territory that he subjugates to his force.