More on Noses

Prettyboy's nose, on a slightly less handsome man's face

Zie mentioned that her nose is the most remarked upon part of her face when people say she doesn't look Jewish (to be fair, she has one of the cutest little button noses in the history of ever, second only to Prettyboy's perfectly rendered nose. Now that I think about it, his nose may be a major motivation for me if I ever come around to considering procreation. Our progeny would be short, but with a perfectly formed nose. Alright, I just freaked myself out a little there. Back to our regularly scheduled, non-parenthetical post.).

I don't have a large nose. I don't have a small nose, but I don't have a large nose. It's not like the 'before' picture in the nose job scene in Space Balls, but it is, emphatically and unquestionably a nose, taking up space (too much?) in the middle of my face. I've always had a bit of a complex about my nose. My mother had a nose job when I was in first grade. She had always hated her nose and I suppose she figured that she was in the hospital so much anyway, they might as well throw in a nose while they were at it.

Years later, I found out that she made my aunt promise that she would get me a nose job if I needed it. Keep in mind here, that my mom was on her deathbed and she made my aunt swear that I would have a nose job if I needed it. I'm not saying that to undermine all the other stuff that I'm sure she was anxious about, but rather to emphasis the source of my nose-neurosis.

This neurosis was compounded by my paternal grandmother. The last time I saw her, I was fifteen and we were shoe shopping for her. We were sitting together and she leaned into me and motioned for me to come closer. She looked deep into my eyes and said, "You are so beautiful. Like a movie star... But you're going to have to do something about that nose, huh?"

So there you have them. My grandmother's last words to me. What a legacy.

And so that's why I so emphatically compliment Zie's nose and why I'm so obsessed with Prettyboy's. They are so perfect and little. No one would ever think to mention to them that they need to do anything to alter them.

On a related note, I've recently come back into contact with my best friend from high school. We were hanging out last weekend and she said, "I have to ask: did you just not notice or were you too embarrassed to say something." And I responded with confusion, "Say something about what?" Apparently she had had a nose job that rather drastically changed her nose. Now that I look at pictures from high school, I recognize it, but I just didn't notice it on her. Both noses fit her perfectly and she's stunning regardless, so I guess I should worry less about mine. It also had never occurred to me that my vocal insecurity about my nose made her feel worse about hers (something else she admitted to me).

When I did a google search on Jewish noses, I came up with the following hits:

A children's book from the German Propaganda Archive.

The historical implications of plastic surgery on "Jewish" noses and this Jewish Encyclopedia entry.

A well written blog post comparing Jewish anti-Semitism to Arab anti-Semitism (we're all Semites).

A hilarious post decrying the trendiness of being Jewish.

And this picture:

For now, I've come to terms with my nose, with Prettyboy's assistance (he calls himself a nose connoisseur and claims that mine is his favorite.) What? I don't need outside reassurance to bolster my morale, but it sure does help from someone with as impeccable a nose as his.