But our cultural obsession with beauty and looks has risks. Consider the case of Samantha Robichaud, who was hired to work at McDonald's in Northport, Ala., with aspirations to move up in management. She knew everything depended on learning the different necessary skills. After months of grilling Big Macs in the back kitchen, she asked for a position serving them at the front counter. Management refused.
Samantha has a problem - an expansive wine dark birthmark mars her face, and she says her employers discriminated against her because they thought the birthmark would upset customers. The U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) agreed, and filed an employment discrimination law suit on her behalf, citing the American Disabilities Act of 1990.
Her lawsuit draws attention to the risk of tyranny in a society of beauty seekers. When are aesthetic evaluations in employment valid? Must an aerobics instructor be thin? A tailor make the best-dressed lists? A cosmetic saleswoman be pretty?
A hotelier in Los Angeles set out to create a "cool-looking" staff with a fresh image. He fired all the old bellmen and hired new ones, all of whom were white. All but one of the fired employees was not. The EEOC sued, and the hotel settled by paying each dismissed bellman $120,000. Is there a difference between racism and "aestheticism"?
Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but cultural perceptions of what's beautiful can slide subtly from snobbery to prejudice as choice hardens into conformity. The language of style can flatten moral sensibilities, mistaking surface beauty for depth of meaning.
The fall fashion magazine of the New York Times characterizes idiosyncratic styles as "guilty pleasures." Fashionistas look deep into their wardrobe trunks to find Sin Lite. (Pandora's box, this is not.) But shouldn't a $13,500 Ralph Lauren beaded robe require some kind of expiation? Fashion is fun and we probably ought not to pass judgment on its pleasures, but when substance is subsumed in style society can pay a big price, literally.
Elle compares Virginia Postrel's insights to that of a brilliant woman who wears Manolos, the super-sexy, super-expensive status shoes. The author avers. "No Manolos for me," she tells the AEI audience. "I swear by these Via Spiga pumps. You can stand in them for hours."