monoculture.

Greece and Italy both share what I consider a big problem – an incredibly strong aspiration towards a very specific type of physical beauty.

While this impossible standard surely moves billions in beauty products and drives fashion forward, it comes with a downright intolerance to those without a sense of style or symmetry for a face.  It’s one giant sexual lottery, and the feeling like your number was picked at birth downright pisses me off.

I’ve seen nothing but “beautiful” women during my time in Rome and Athens, sadly these similarities smear together into a giant lapse of detail.  One of the best characters I’ve come across was a stumbling guy who looked a hell of a lot like Mick Jagger on a train leaving Rome – the sole oddity in a sea of perfection.  We weren’t using the same language but we shared a moment of frustration in not being able to remember the faces we’ve passed.

There are no ironic hipsters.  The goths and punks don’t come out, even at night.  Nerd pride is anything but.  I have yet to see a drag queen.

My mind wanders to the old single women of southern Europe – how do you fit into a society that pronounced you dead at age 26?

Religion?  God might be the only one that doesn’t judge you anymore.

Children?  Do Italian men even acknowledge women past their prime?

Wealth?  Perhaps with the right pair of Prada…

Anti-bulimia PSAs, Lady Gaga non-stop, diversity-is-life campaigns, wrinkle creams and tailored seams.  I never thought a region drowning in history could be so trapped in the shallow end of the culture pool.

God bless the punks of London, the goths of Berlin, the hipsters of Williamsburg, the queens of San Francisco, the nerds of Seattle, Swedish metal fans, and the thugs of Atlanta!