Seeing Yourself and Seeing Perfection: Changing Standards of Beauty in Romance

Body ShopWhile I was gazing at my own navel the other day (and the stretch marks along side of it) I started thinking about where my own standard of beauty originated, and how the romances I read may have influenced my concept of the female ideal. What, you don’t think about that while getting dressed? OK, it was more along the lines of, “My chest wouldn’t fit in a single one of those bodices without ripping,” but that spun out into standards and ideals.

I think there’s good and bad parts to the female standard in romance novels. Among the good parts: sexual agency, self-actualization and discovery, physical and emotional achievement, and generally winning at the end, plus orgasms and being appreciated for who one is, without requirements that one change to fit another’s world view. Also, orgasms.

And most goodest among the good: a somewhat slowly but still changing tendency

toward

away from youth, virginity, thinness, and the ideal pictured on the cover. The old standard, alas, was very troublesome to me.

My first encounters with female beauty in books was, as @joyabella noted when I asked this question on Twitter, the Wakefield twins. So many women found their gateway to romance in Sweet Valley High, and that gateway came with the constantly repeated and thus unfortunately inculcated reference to the “perfect size six figure.”

First, let me say on behalf of every woman with breasts and a backside: Fuck you and your six.

Anything other than a six, obviously, was imperfect. And I have never in my life been a size six. Well, maybe when I WAS six, but since then? Not hardly.

In romances, there was slightly more variety, as I recall. The standard of beauty present in romances is changing, but back when I started reading romances in the 90s, there was a very set standard of thin, tall, lithe, hairless perfection with small breasts, long hair, and, judging by the covers, technicolor eyeshadow.

Among the things I most remember about romance heroines back in the day was on the fact that they all had perfect breasts and “gently rounded stomachs.” First, what does that mean? And second, what are perfect breasts? I read once that the perfect breast should fit in a champagne glass.

I immediately pictured this and thought, OW.

Champagne Glass

But that was all part of the romance standard of female beauty at the time: small perky breasts, long thin legs, that ever-so-clever ability to fit into boy’s clothing (hips not too big, breasts either, and no booty to speak of, either) and hairless legs, too.

Since then, since reading a lot more romances in varied sub-genres, and since growing up and developing what author Keri Ford called “my own ideas of beauty,” I’ve learned that not only is the old-skool female ideal of beauty utter hogwash, but that there’s a new and varied concept of beauty in romances, a shift I really like.

The heroines I used to read about when I first found the genre are quite different from the heroines published today, and I thank all available sweet bippys for that. Now, the heroines can be older, which I love. Plus, I have seen curvy heroines, heroines with grey hair, stretch marks, physical differences and various changes to their physical characters that back in the day I would not have seen. Flawless and perfect have given way to realistic variety.

I love it when I find the differences, those things that break from perfection. For me it underscores the happy ending that the hero and heroine are perfect for each other, and aren’t reflections of external perfection. From heroines post-mastectomy to heroines who had babies as teenagers and face physical changes from long-ago childbirth, I really love the differences, and the breaks from that irritating, offensive defined ideal. I love reading about real women, not unrealistic paragons of physical perfection. As Tara Quicksaid, “all types of bodies are loved.”

I love that romance’s definition of female beauty is becoming less strict – and I wish I could give good examples without them being somewhat spoilerific.  I like reading about heroines with physical traits that they see as flaws which trip them up and cause them no end of angst and worry, until they are loved exactly as they are. The change in romance’s subtext seems wrapped up in that change in point of view: the heroines doesn’t have to adopt the hero’s entire worldview. But she often accepts and celebrates his view of her, which may be different from her view of herself. His perception changes her view that she is awesome as she is, and she sees the awesomesauce in herself that he recognized.

Or, as Christie Ridgway said, “Romances have reinforced the wisdom I’ve gained over years of interaction with men: their idea of beauty is not strict.”

What standards of beauty have you noticed, back then or right now? (NOTE: please mark as a spoiler if revealing the character points you mention are part of the plot.) Do you notice the changing heroines? Has romance reading affected your concept of yourself?

Categorized:

Random Musings

Comments are Closed

  1. Laurel says:

    I don’t care if the heroine is physically perfect or her butt’s a little too big or her hair is frizzy or flat or whatever. All I want is a real character. What I AM tired of and seems very du jour is the “not pretty but fascinating” heroine. Not conventionally pretty, but arresting. Interesting. From the first impression.

    I’ve known people like this IRL and honestly, it isn’t that you notice how interesting-looking they are when you meet them. It’s after you get to know them. And then, they start to grow on you. The guy with the gawky frame and big ears and nose who gets sexy when you find out he can play anything by Rachmaninov on the piano, for example.

    If she’s pretty, fine. If she’s not, that’s fine, too. But let that grow on me, preferably through the hero’s perception. Maybe he thought she was frumpy when he met her but grows to see her beauty as understated, whatever. Alexia Tarrabotti in “Soulless” is a great example of this; her nose and figure are too big by societal standards but the hero doesn’t seem to notice. He thinks she’s lovely so the reader comes to see her that way, too.

  2. Amanda in Baltimore says:

    Several people mentioned that women are more critical of their own figures than men who see them are. I once read a fascinating article by a woman who has spent a year doing various unusual jobs. She spent some time as a stripper, and when she was getting ready to do it, she was convinced everyone would look and laugh because she didn’t have a perfect strippers body. The other dancers told her it would be fine, and it was.
    In interviewing men to find out what they thought when they saw a woman naked, one man told her that men just love the female form, and that inside each grown man is a ghost of the 13 year old boy he used to be, the one that was convinced he’d never get to see a naked woman, much less actually touch one. So for most men, they are just darn grateful to see a naked woman!

  3. Maria says:

    Ack, sometimes Blond really is a brain condition. I meant Loretta Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels.

  4. Daniela says:

    Oh my god, I totally agree! I just started to read romance novels, and in fact, my first pick was one of your sizzling hot summer book club books, Kristan Higgins “All I ever wanted”. Well, let’s just say that I have expanded my collection by a lot since then. I have several of Kristan Higgins’s books now, and in one of them, the leading lady isn’t stick-skinny and frets about it a lot. Because she has some belly fat, and a chin whisker, and some times less than appealing breath. It just made the book all the more REAL to me you know?
    Not only that, but in another one of the books I got, a historical romance, called “The Bride and the Beast” by Teresa Medeiros, not a personal favorite, but the main character felt and everyone said she was fleshy and because of that ugly. She had big boobs, an actual ass and hip and she was considered the ugly sister, while she had 3 others who were perfectly skinny with small breasts. But as the story went along and she met the main guy character, he showed her how beautiful she really was. And that those things made her sexy, not ugly. I think that that’s what I love most about that book. =]

  5. Orli says:

    I’ve noticed a lot more curvy women lately, especially in Samhain publications. And although most of them seem okay with it, even the ones who aren’t sure of themselves are eventually knocked into sense by the hero, who WANTS a girl with an ass he can actually hold.

    That kind of stuff makes my ass feel much more loved in the written world, even though in real life I’ve got my own hero telling me how awesome it is.

  6. SonomaLass says:

    @Josie

    If your self image is truly shattered by your failure to live up to a fantasy image (and this isn’t just all so much rhetoric), you have far more problems than they way the latest Avon heroine is described.

    The way a heroine is described doesn’t have to “shatter” my self image in order to interfere with my enjoyment of a book. A lot of readers here seem to be saying that they want less of that kind of fantasy and a touch more reality and variety in the way romance heroines are described. I wouldn’t call that a problem, exactly, at least not in the way you seem to be implying.

    And certainly there are some readers for whom this is a very sensitive issue; I have a close friend who is a recovering bulemic, and she can’t finish a book if the heroine is described as “thin” as a positive thing. So what for most of us is a preference or an annoyance might be more than that to others.

  7. DreadPirateRachel says:

    @ Josie,

    No, I really don’t think we’re taking this too seriously. This is an honest conversation about a problematic area of romances, and we’re sharing our opinions. Please consider that before you accuse us all of having “far more problems than they way the latest Avon heroine is described.” Women face a daily barrage of stereotypes to which we are expected to conform; we shouldn’t have to put up with them in a genre that is supposedly “for women, by women.”

    I love the Bitchery. I love having a place where I can freely and honestly discuss a genre of literature that carries such a stigma. Today in one of my women’s lit classes, a fellow student announced that she loved to read romance novels, and the sniggering started immediately. Fortunately, my professor pointed out that the novels we are reading were considered “trash” in their time as well.

    The comments on this entry are great; it’s such a pleasure to be able to hear from so many fabulous romance readers and writers!

    Captcha: behind76. Yup, I weigh more than 76 lbs. and I’ve got a behind!

  8. Gwynnyd says:

    But, but… some of the characters have to be “tv show attractive” – not MarySue/GaryStu perfect – but some real people are within the range of what’s on the doctors’ guidelines, and some people do have long hair, or long legs, or big boobs and narrow hips, or perky little breasts or whatever. Some people do care about makeup and getting their hair cut and wearing trendy clothes.  Why should characters who exhibit those traits be stereotyped as villainous, or dismissed as not worthy of being written about in this enlightened age lest they damage any fragile psyches who happen to read them, any more than any other trait is singled out to personify a stereotype?  Shouldn’t villainy or loveableness be character based?  A variety of physical types is good, is wonderful, is interesting to read – but I’d say it is just as unreasonable to have a majority of characters be away from the “norms” as it is for every character to be a personification of cultural attractiveness.

  9. DM says:

    As a writer, I’m in search of conflict, because I want to deliver a storytelling experience my audience can’t look away from. Now, if the heroine’s attractiveness adds to that conflict, as in a historical where she is in service and must dodge unwanted advances to keep her job, I’m all for it. But in far more fictional situations the heroine’s perfection—physical and often otherwise—lowers the conflict level. She’s drop dead gorgeous, breast feeds orphans and de-worms puppies at the city shelter at the same time! What’s not to love? For the hero, very little. And the easier the HEA, the duller the read.

    I won’t say that there’s more realism to be found in heroines who clock in past a size six, but my reading and writing experiences indicate that there is more emotional truth to be found there. That to be loved despite or even for our flaws is far more moving than to be loved for our perfection.

    But I will assert that the perfect size six, the violet eyes, and champagne coup breasts do detract from the illusion of reality because we know what they are when we read them: second hand goods borrowed from other stories. Descriptions dropped in by authors who failed to fully visualize an original character.

  10. Ingrid says:

    Love this thread!

    I just wanted to pipe up in defense of violet eyes in Romancelandia.  I acknowledge that I am in the tiny, tiny minority, but I grew up with an Aunt with genuinely deep-blue-violet eyes (and I’m pretty sure she was the dreaded “perfect 6”, too).  Odd eye color runs in my family (mine are olive green).  My Aunt is one of those devil-may-care adventuress types too, so reading about the highly unlikely Romances of violet-eyed temptresses of yore are actually the opposite of exotic for me – they’re kind of homey! 

    On the other hand, I’m deeply fond of the more modern trend of heroines with something about them that makes them feel freakish and alone.  And I much prefer heroes who are a step away from the “sculpted” look – the only ones whom I’ve read (so far) who have a good reason are Suzanne Brockman’s military characters.  All the rest make me wonder how many hours they spend in the gym, staring in the mirror.

  11. Lyssa says:

    Wow…The characters that challenge this that I can immediately point to are Bujold’s Cordelia and Laisa.  The best description of either that serve up the point is Laisa,

    If Laisa Toscane possessed more brains than beauty, she had to be some kind of genius. Yet the exact source of ther intense physical impression was elusive. Her face was softly molded and pleasant, but not nearly as striking as, say, Elli Quinn’s expensive sculpture. Her eyes were unusual, a brilliant blue-green, though whether the color was cosmetically or genetically conferred Miles could not tell.  She was short even for a Komarran woman, two handspands shorter than Galeni, who was almost as tall as Delia. But her most distinctive feature was her skin, milk-white and almost seeming to glow—-zaftig, Miles thought, was the word for that rich flesh. Plump was misleading, and not nearly enthusiastic enough. He had never seen anything so edibly female outside a Cetagandan haut-lady’s force screen.
    Memory, Lois McMaster Bujold

    But if we have problems recognizing our own beauty, how much more do we have recognizing the beauty/attractiveness of our male counterparts. Other than scars, (that don’t really disfigure) how many of our ‘heroes’ fall short of physical beauty/handsomeness? I can think of only a handful myself. This was one of my major complaints against the books I LOVED to read. EVERYONE was Perfect. Male / Female alike there was an illusion that HEA was only for the deserving, the beautiful. I think it is getting better, but do we really want it to? Tom Paoletti from Suzanne Brockmann’s Troubleshooters has hair loss…and that is considered ‘out there’ for a hero. (A fantastic body, but he has hair loss…I cry). Until we read about women who have stretch lines, celulite, boobs that droop, asses that sag, and heroes who used to be football heroes but now have that girth around the middle that is a little more than what is healthy, or flanks that are thin, rather than taut and like it, the industry is not going to change.

  12. LOL – I read a lot of Stephen King as a teen so I didn’t get my image issues from romance, at least not then. Sizes? Just arbitrary numbers so far as I can tell. I’m about 20 lbs heavier than I was in high school and 2 sizes smaller in Gap jeans now vs. then.

    I too am one to just change a character to look like I wish in my head, so long as I find them sufficiently interesting otherwise. One thing I find harder to take is characters who are young and angsting about aging. I’m reading a book right now (not romance) that I like a lot but then the character, who is turning 32, started whining about her sagging skin and mid-life crisis. Really??? I wish I had my 32 year-old skin back!

    I love that there are more and various characters out there these days. I was getting tired of quirky / fiery redheads and I’ve never met anyone with violet eyes either.

  13. Rei says:

    I’m gonna skim over my agreement with the “yes to variety, variety is good” comments because I agree with them but there’s almost a hundred of them and it feels like cheating.

    As someone whose trouble has always been putting weight on rather than losing it, I for one would like to see a size six heroine written realistically. I’ve been underweight all my life, and while I freely admit that this puts me squarely in the “socially desirable body type du jour” category, it doesn’t come without its own set of problems. I cannot find clothes that fit. Trousers are loose, shirts are tight. I freeze in winter; I have circulation problems; I get ill really easily.

    There should absolutely be more variety in romance heroines, but it’s not just the variety itself that’s realistic; if it’s a book which follows the heroine in her day-to-day life, then some kind of idea of the actual problems (for the purposes of a romance novel I don’t think “my tiny waist and big chest bring all the boys to the yard” counts as an actual problem) that come with each body type might be a good thing to have too.

  14. StephB says:

    That’s one thing I always loved about Jayne Ann Krentz’s romances – even back in the early 90s, her heroines tended to be described as not conventionally attractive – the standard description for her heroines at that point (when I first started reading her books) seemed to always include small chests and big butts, often combined with frizzy hair and glasses. She was the first romance author I read, and so I was really startled when I started reading other authors and discovered tons of drop-dead gorgeous heroines.

  15. Emma Hillman says:

    I started writing because I couldn’t find the books/stories I wanted to read. I wanted curvy heroines. I wanted HEAs for them. I wanted sexy men for them. So, I decided I’d write them myself (hey, it worked!).

    I’m glad to see Romancelandia has evolved since then. It’s a lot easier to find such heroines nowadays, especially in eBooks. Go us!

  16. kbrum says:

    love the post. @ josie : are you implying that readers of this website somehow wish to return/accept/endorse the template boilerplate romances set out by earlier authors of the genre? Using barbara cartland as an example, I for one am definitely glad to have seen the back of the tall overbearing physically and mentally powerful bully-boy hero who was twice the age of the heroine (who seemed tiny, half the height of the hero, had violet eyes, and was weak and sumbmissive) and/or was in a position of trust , such a guardian.  Not the sort of power balance I would want any daughter of mine to model herself on.  As a teenager reading such books I’ sometimes wondered whether how to describe these guys – now I’d describe them as pedophiles.
    While I’m in delurk mode, Pear-shaped figures don’t seem to be represented in romance novels.
    5ft 4 is average size ..not small, nor somehow inadequate. Defining heroines by something they have not a lot if control over yet requiring approval/validation by the hero is unfair, and was a big reason why I stopped buying/reading romance books but instead borrowing them.
    yellow eyed heroes – has anyone ever seen these in real life?

  17. Tamara Hogan says:

    Rei said:
    As someone whose trouble has always been putting weight on rather than losing it, I for one would like to see a size six heroine written realistically. I’ve been underweight all my life, and while I freely admit that this puts me squarely in the “socially desirable body type du jour” category, it doesn’t come without its own set of problems. I cannot find clothes that fit. Trousers are loose, shirts are tight. I freeze in winter; I have circulation problems; I get ill really easily.

    Thanks for speaking up, Rei. My size 4 body comes largely courtesy of Crohn’s Disease, and other women’s comments can be quite thoughtless: (eyeroll) “I wish I had that problem!” 

    Really? Live in my body for a month and get back to me on that.

  18. Isabel C. says:

    My first-book heroine is unhealthily skinny at first—post-apocalyptic malnutrition fun—and hopefully I convey the “no, seriously, unhealthy” well. We’ll see, I guess! My plans for future books include a variety of body types.

    I admit, on the other hand, that I don’t want the hero standard to change all that much. Doesn’t have to be Bodybuilder Guy, but no gut, plenty of hair on the head and not so much on the body, and a Bowie-sized package, please. 😉 My view is that women get too much of the “you should see a guy’s heart and soul and not care about the externals” crap* as it is—see also the Ugly Guy Hot Wife thing in TVTropes—and also that catering to het-female appearance-based fantasies in a genre which aims to do that isn’t a bad thing.

    That said, everyone has different fantasies, so different appearances are objectively good. Bald does nothing for me, so I probably wouldn’t read a romance with a bald hero…but judging by the number of girls with crushes on Picard and Xavier, I don’t think there’d be any problem finding a market!

    *Sorry, but you know who has a great heart and soul? The Dalai Lama. Terry Pratchett. MY PARENTS. You know who I would even think about ever having sex with? NONE OF THE ABOVE, MY GOD.

  19. Lynn M says:

    What I have a harder time de-learning is the concept that romance heroes find the non-perfect-six-6 heroine attractive. My problems lie not so much in the depiction of a “perfect” woman being limited to a very narrow and unrealistic set of parameters, but that the men in romance novels always fall hopelessly in love with these “perfect” women and thus that must be what it takes to catch the guy.

    So when I read a hero who extols the joys of a larger (read: realistic) woman and how he wants curves to put his hands around, I have to work harder to believe the story. I guess I’ve been brainwashed into thinking that all men want the perfect size six and any deviation from that single-track delusion is not normal.

    Best example I can come up with is my struggle to accept that the Linc/Zac Efron character from Hairspray fell for oversized heroine Tracy/Nikki Blonsky. Not that this isn’t a realistic or fabulously refreshing change, just that it went so counter to our cultural norms of the handsome hero falling for the uber-perfect heroine I felt a disconnect. What I accept in real life is hard to process when depicted in fantasy Hollywood World/Romancelandia.

    It will take some time for me to get used to the hero who does love his imperfect (read: realistic) heroine as she is. Not that I’m sorry he’s arrived to stay, just that I need to overcome an artifact left over from those old skool romances when Alpha Hero wanted Fantasy Girl in pretty much every.single.book. I read.

  20. kkw says:

    I have dresses in my closet that fit me that range in size from 0 to 16.  Not dresses that have fit me, dresses that all currently do.  0,2,4,6,8,10,12, and 16, and they all fit.  For realz.  Dress sizes are like race, it’s a meaningless construct with no math or science involved.  One of the things I love about historical romances is that there are no sizes, and all dresses have to be made to order, cut, sewn, and tailored for an individual.  Seriously, if there is one thing I have learned as an adult it is not to care about how things fit off the rack.  No one said I was mature, or that I had meaningful life lessons to offer.  Although if we delve into lessons that stripping taught me, and I see this born out in romance novels so it must be true, it is that for every body shape out there, there is a man who thinks it is perfection, that most men find most women sexually desirable, and that if there were to be a body type that the majority of men agreed was perfect (there really really isn’t, but) it would not be skinny.  Look at the difference between playboy models and fashion models, the one chosen by men, the other by women.  I’m just saying.

  21. sheriguy says:

    Romance heroines had no effect on my body image largely because I did not relate physically to most of the romance heroines I grew up with.  I am a Black woman from the Caribbean with thick kinky hair, full lips and a family disposition to copious cleavage. There was no way that I could ever be the flaxen haired blond waif portrayed in most of the 80’s romance novels . I simply ignored the stereotype and read the story.  I am happy though that we have seen so many different types of heroines and heroes. They come in any number complexions, body types and ages. There is one place where stories still play to stereotype. We accept heroines of all sizes and body dimensions. Yet all the men are all examples of studly perfection and are WELL -endowed. Even the ones that have had tragic accidents that leave them paralyzed.  I would like to read a good novel just once where the hero was less than “studly perfection”.

  22. Ros says:

    I love, love, loved the way Karina Bliss dealt with a physically flawed heroine in Here Comes The Groom.  No more details because it’s totally spoilerific, but that’s just one more reason to go and read this awesome book if you haven’t already.

    On heroines who recognise their own beauty, I’m currently re-reading Sarah Morgan’s fabulous Bella’s Disgrace (aka Bella and the Merciless Sheikh).  Bella knows exactly how gorgeous she is and is somewhat put out when the sheikh doesn’t immediately succumb to her charms.  She has a BIG learning curve in this story and even when she’s at her most disgraceful, she has a wicked sort of charm that I found very endearing.  She knows she has huge character flaws and has done some awful things.  There’s lots of self-doubt but not ever about her looks (except the potential effect of too much sand in her hair!)

  23. Alpha Lyra says:

    As someone whose trouble has always been putting weight on rather than losing it, I for one would like to see a size six heroine written realistically. I’ve been underweight all my life, and while I freely admit that this puts me squarely in the “socially desirable body type du jour” category, it doesn’t come without its own set of problems. I cannot find clothes that fit. Trousers are loose, shirts are tight. I freeze in winter; I have circulation problems; I get ill really easily.

    This is very true! I periodically need to take a medication that, as a side effect, causes me to lose weight. My weight tends to fluctuate over the years by about 10 lbs depending on whether I’m on the drug or off it, and when I’m not carrying that extra 10 lbs, I FREEZE in the winter. I like the way I look when my weight is on the lower side, but it is not comfortable. Especially since I live someplace chilly. I end up substituting bulky layers of clothing for that missing 10 lbs.

  24. Jrant says:

    Heroes… Please don’t make my hero average. He doesn’t have to be tall, or over-endowed, but he can NOT be overweight or wimpy, physically or emotionally. He can (maybe even should) be flawed, again physically and/or emotionally.

    Sorry. If I want reality, I’ll read the paper—NOT a romance book.

    I get your point, but offering only one heroic body type is the flip side of the “perfect size six” line: “Society”, or whatever, is imposing artificial limits on our sexual desires.

    To be clear, I don’t want Tall, Dark and Ripped heroes to disappear from the romance genre. And I wouldn’t enjoy a story that dwelt on the hero’s pot belly. BUT it might be cool to know the hero is insecure about taking off his shirt. And it doesn’t have to be a “ignore the B.O. and settle for his inner beauty” kind of thing. Beautiful eyes, a razor wit and a sexy voice have nothing to do with one’s gym routine. And, as I’m sure most of us can attest, washboard abs aren’t required for really, really hot sex.

    I find my boyfriend very sexy for a host of non-ab-related reasons. I don’t need to super-impose his head on Fabio’s body to get turned on, so it vexes me that romance heroes only come in “chiseled”.  It would be cool if more authors were brave enough to leave the hard bodies behind and write about the “sexy” many of us actually experience.

  25. JamiSings says:

    Actually, I miss the virgin heroines. As someone who threw her virginity away on the first guy who paid attention to her, I love being able to read about someone who holds out for Her One True Love. I don’t mind heroines who were married at one time, or even had one or two committed relationships, but the ones who sleep around before hand – I just can’t get into them. Especially the ones who were hookers before they were romance novel heroines.

    I also think that there hasn’t been huge strides. Even when the woman is fat she’s usually also tall. So she may be a size 14 she can carry it off better because she’s over 6 feet tall. I want a heroine who’s 5’ 3” and 250 pounds. I want one with PCOS.

    But she’s always 6 feet tall at the least and always a size 16 at the largest. And it still makes me feel bad because I’m 5’ 3” and a size 22, but prefer to wear a size 26. I haven’t been a size 16 since I was 16.

  26. Alpha Lyra says:

    I’ve only been reading romance novels for a few years, so I can’t comment on how things have changed over the years. But I do have a particular liking for novels in which the heroine and hero are average in looks rather than spectacular. I think this comes from my own personal issues. Back in junior high, it was the really beautiful girls and the really good-looking guys who teased and bullied me, so now every time I see (or imagine) someone extremely beautiful, my emotion reaction is not “ooh, I want” but something more akin to fear and loathing.

    I also agree that it reduces tension if the hero and heroine are too perfect. After all, where’s the conflict? She’s perfect! He’s perfect! They’re perfect together! Okay, now tell me a real story.

  27. Chris says:

    I guess what disappoints me most is that there is still a large lack of heroines of a different race, skin color, etc. Sadly, I’m STILL finding books where the (usually) white protagonist has a sassy black friend, quiet or nerdy asian galpal, or carbon copy of the heroine herself—except she’s…I don’t know…Arab or something. Characters of a different race never seem well rounded out and more like an attempt on the author’s part to appear…diverse. I don’t care who it’s by but I would like to see a romance novelist, black or white, embrace creating a character that just happens to look a little different, maybe have darker skin, and still be a three dimensional character. I’m all for writing about who you are most comfortable with, but somebody needs to break out of the niche.

  28. blodeuedd says:

    Oh yes the size 6, how do they do it, cos they always have perky full breasts too, and I sure know that my boobs makes it impossible to get a size the rest of my body is.

  29. Elizabeth Lowell’s Desert Rain features a heroine called Holly who, under her professional name of Shannon, is a supermodel. (It’s not a great book upon rereading, but I loved it as a college student). Holly is completely confident in her looks, although as some people have pointed out, she’s unremarkable when not working.

    Thanks, Lisa. That seems to fit with what henofthewoods said about how “there may not even be 8 supermodels – instead there is good make-up and camera work that show off how interesting any human really is and clothing that makes someone feel like they are stunning.”

    I don’t care who it’s by but I would like to see a romance novelist, black or white, embrace creating a character that just happens to look a little different, maybe have darker skin, and still be a three dimensional character.

    Chris, have you not found any of the heroines in African-American or inter-racial romances three dimensional? Or have you just not found any of those romances at all yet?

  30. LisaE says:

    I have never never seen a heroine who has thin hair, or small eyes.  Never zits, though they might have in the past (and now they’re bee-yoo-ti-full).  No skin diseases.

    Masses of unruly hair, yes, thick eyebrows, yes, nose and mouth too large for (conventional) beauty, why certainly, because the heroine, like the rest of us, is special and under-appreciated.

    No man hands.  Nor one boob noticeably bigger than the other.

    Lots of heroines who are mistaken for twelve year olds at eighteen, but not the other way around – would require a hiatus of some years in the story.

    And no post-child bearing cootchie – tight forever.

  31. Kerrie says:

    @Rebecca & kkw upthread about clothes sizes…

    YES! I had no idea that the size numbers had gotten smaller but the actual clothes stayed the same… UNTIL I decided to sew myself a dress. So I just grabbed the size 6 pattern, because that’s what I wore off the rack. Nope! I had to go back and get a size 14 pattern! What an eye-opener that was – since I had worn off-the-rack 14s before my 45-pound weight loss! It does seem to be an ego-booster for our plus-sized nation.

  32. Isobel Carr says:

    I’m nearly 6’ tall. When I’m anything smaller than a US size 8, people start asking if I’m “ill” and I can’t find anything with long enough legs or sleeves (because clothing manufacturers assume that as you get smaller in size, you also get shorter; which is true, unless you’re a model).

  33. Jemma says:

    So Candy, you thought you were reading about a “standard of thin, tall, lithe, hairless perfection with small breasts, long hair, and, judging by the covers, technicolor eyeshadow.”
    Well, other than the hairless perfection and the eyeshadow, that pretty much describes me (a.k.a The Stick). But I always though I was reading about women who were short (or at least always shorter than the hero), cute, luscious, curvy, complete with a butt and boobs.
    None of which I can lay claim to myself.

    Perhaps were are imagining heroines that aren’t like us for some twisted psychological/literary reason? Aren’t they supposed to be an idealized version of ourselves i.e. what we are not? Maybe that’s why Candy and I have completely opposite generalized memories of the physiques of the heroines.

  34. Lauren says:

    I am 27 years old. I am five feet tall. I weigh 163 lbs. I have boobs too large for my own good probably, a gut, thick thighs and for high school to most of my adult life I felt unattractive.

    Somewhere around a year or two ago this got lessened, I realized not everyone is looking for a girl who is a Maxim model, being thin doesn’t mean happiness, and its more than a waist size.
    My boyfriend thinks I’m gorgeous and pretty and essentially can’t get enough of me and I love that he doesn’t see what I used to see in the mirror- he sees his funny, smart lovely girlfriend.
    Essentially, I found the Colin Bridgerton to my Penelope Featherington.

  35. amy! says:

    @Isabel C.

    *Sorry, but you know who has a great heart and soul? The Dalai Lama. Terry Pratchett. MY PARENTS. You know who I would even think about ever having sex with? NONE OF THE ABOVE, MY GOD.

    omigod.  i’d do terry pratchett in a heartbeat.  and i don’t even *like* guys.

    the whole atlas-physique-with-geek-exercise thing makes me giggle. i don’t much care about guys, but if they’re gonna have six-packs, then by all the gods, they oughta hafta work for ‘em. otherwise, i start falling out of that *willing* suspension of disbelief into “tie me down and make me believe this shit, ‘cause otherwise it’s total starkers” thing.

    amy!

  36. Isabel C. says:

    Amy!: Hee! I love Pratchett dearly, but I just…can’t get past the beard, in all honesty.

    That said, if early-and-often exposure to the Internet has taught me one thing, it’s that everyone is someone’s fetish. If there’s not an inspiring pop song about that, there should be.

  37. Karen says:

    I never got into the SVH as a child because I was kind of religious and so only read horror (I can’t explain that one…it it just what it was) I then went straight to “grown-up” romances.  Being black, I never took my self image cues from the books I read because they just didn’t fit me at all. I was able to be all about the romance. About 15 years ago, I read an Avon historical romance, I believe that featured a heroine that was black with a short fro. Though I wasn’t that impressed with the story, I really appreciated reading a story about a woman who was a better fit to my image than the women I grew up reading about.  Since then, I have enjoyed the expansion of “desirable” in the romance genre.

  38. elph says:

    Back in the 80’s I snuck one of my aunt’s historicals about a privateer who was separated from his wife, and wound up reuniting with her through some undercover plot I can’t recall the details of anymore. I don’t remember the title either, but I remember the book opened on him ruminating about a visit to a lady of the night, which could’ve been a deal breaker, except that the lady’s smooth skin made him miss the hairy legs of his wife. He went into considerable detail on the appeal of her leg hair. Won me over right then and there. I also like how Crusie’s heroes and heroines often don’t conform to a strict standard for physical beauty, like Jake’s mustache of awesome in Manhunting. I like a hero with some bodacious facial hair.

  39. principessa1180 says:

    Hello, I am still trying to learn how to navigate this site. I am looking for a book about a father who looses his daughter in a card game. It is a romance book. Does anybody have an idea what this book is called?

  40. principessa1180 says:

    growing up, i read a lot of vc andrews. some of those girls weren’t incredible beauties. they just seemed normal.

Comments are closed.

By posting a comment, you consent to have your personally identifiable information collected and used in accordance with our privacy policy.

↑ Back to Top