In 2015, in the middle of winter, my father and I embarked on an epic road trip to some of the most beautiful, most wild and most remote parts of Australia.
We didn't camp in caravan parks or camp grounds. Just before dusk, we would simply drive off whatever road we were on, into the bush, until we found a clearing that felt like the right spot to camp for the night.
Wild camping.
It was freezing cold in the desert at night. It was also insanely beautiful. Insanely wild. Dingos howling near and far. Huge expansive skies glittering with stars.
It was awe inspiring.
Given the rough nature of our adventure, washing yourself, your hair and your clothes was optional. My hair went unwashed for 2 weeks. I tried to have a daily bath with a bucket of warm water and soap, taking as much time as I could bear the cold. My clothes had two jobs, to keep me warm and to keep me comfortable.
A week or two into our journey, I got up early one morning and made myself a cup of tea. I was standing there, my hands aching from the cold, embracing the hot cup, when I caught my dad looking at me and smiling sort of weirdly. 'Can I take a photo of you?' he asked. Why? I questioned suspiciously. 'Because you just look so wild' he answered proudly. I laughed and agreed to the photo, nervous about the result.
I knew I looked wild, I could feel it. I felt 'ugly'. I secretly worried that I would stay that way. That somehow the desert had changed me permanently. What if I don't go back to the way I was?
The red dirt in the Australian outback is simply stunning. It also gets into and onto absolutely everything. Everything was tinged with red. As we were driving along that morning, I was sitting in the passenger seat with hair that hadn't been washed in weeks, clothes that hadn't been washed at all, rubbing moisturiser on to my face.
At this point, my wild bushman father turned to me and said 'I don't know why you're putting that shit on your face, the dirt is just going to stick to it'.
I laughed. Out loud. A lot.
The absurdity of the situation hit me.
What did I think was going to happen? Was I going to shrivel up and turn into a prune if I didn't apply my moisturiser daily? Was it a desperate attempt to protect my skin from the 'harsh' elements in a battle between nature and my vanity? Did I not think my skin was capable of looking after itself?
Why was I putting this shit on my face?
Once upon a time in a land far far away
For centuries, in most parts of the world, a version of the Cinderella story is told.
Iterations can be traced as far back as the period between 7 BC and AD 23. A long time before Disney got a hold of it.
The most widely known English version of the story stems from Charles Perrault's 'Cendrillon', published in French in 1697 and later anglicized as Cinderella. Another rendition, the German 'Aschenputtel', appeared in the Brothers Grimm's 'Grimms' Fairy Tales' in 1812.
When it comes to the moral of Cinderella, the most popular interpretation is 'kindness will be rewarded, selfishness will be punished'. However, the idea that stands out to me most, is the one of transformation.
That is, if you can magically transform yourself from your current state, into a better, more beautiful state, you will get everything you ever dreamed of and live happily ever after.
In the modern retelling, Cinderella waits, existing in silent despair, until her fairy god mother appears and magically transforms her. This transformation transports her from her painful, difficult circumstances to her happy ever after.
It happens magically.
This story of magical transformation is deeply embedded in Western culture. Leading us to believe, that if you shape yourself into the most beautiful, most desirable version of you, all your dreams will come true. Magically.
The ugly duckling
The make over genre in film has always been popular and primarily targeted at women. Movies such as My Fair Lady, Grease, Pretty Woman, Miss Congeniality, The Devil wears Prada all play out the theme of magical transformation.
A young woman plucked from her plain or difficult circumstances is transformed into something greater. The transformation signals her entry into a higher state by becoming a beautiful, desirable woman. The success of her physical transformation is evidenced by her acceptance into the group. By the way she is perceived by others.
More recent films attempt to subvert this narrative, such as Anne Hathaway's character Andy Sachs in The Devil wears Prada, but ultimately the message remains the same. In order to become the best version of yourself, you have to become beautiful and desirable (as perceived by the group) then you magically ascend from an undesirable state to a desirable one.
The rise of reality television in the early 2000's created the perfect vehicle for our make over fascination to play out. Shows like 'The Biggest Loser', 'What not to wear', '100% Hotter', 'Ten years Younger' all capitalised on the idea that people (especially women) are broken and need to be fixed.
They transformed, magically, right before our very eyes.
While it's easy to look back on these shows and cringe, the reality is, we haven't moved on. The make over genre is alive and well, it's just had a make over of it's own. We now refer to it as a 'Glow up'.
Social media platforms are saturated with 'Glow up' content. Time lapse videos show mind boggling physical transformations in a matter of seconds. The complete magical overhaul delivered to us instantly. A sixty second happily ever after.
Glow up culture with it's 'Get ready with me' and 'Daily routine' videos has girls as young as 8 years old performing skin care routines they do not need. In fact, they can actually cause them harm. Many skin care products contain ingredients such as acids and retinol which are intended for adult skin only. These products can cause harm to the sensitive skin of children.
Magical transformations are big business and they are grooming their customers early.
Celebrity skin
Another recent trend which has made it's way through Hollywood and into mainstream culture, is the weight loss transformation brought about by use of GPL-1 medications, specifically semaglutide, branded as Ozempic and Wergovy amongst others.
Celebrities are shrinking at a rapid rate.
While the choice to take weight loss drugs is a personal one, the effect it has on the broader culture can't be overlooked.
Ozempic and rapid weight loss transformations continue to trend on Tik Tok in 2025. With Ozempic and Wergovy being referred to as the 'skinny pen' due to it's injectable form. 'Budget Ozempic' is also trending, which is essentially laxatives promoted for weight loss transformations.
While these drugs have the potential to help those in need, that is not the story playing out on social media and in culture in general.
The rise of Ozempic has put thinness in the eye of the make over storm.
It's not just young people they are targeting. 'Glamma' (glamorous grandma) is also trending in 2025. What may have started out as a playful term used to describe women who are too 'hot' and glamorous to be called Grandma, has quickly turned into a marketing package.
Plastic surgeons are marketing 'Glamma make overs' to women over 50 who want a more 'youthful' looking face and body. Breast lifts and augmentations, arm lifts, and tummy tucks are the usual procedures included in the glamma makeover.
'At what age will society stop demanding I try to be hot and just let me turn into an old swamp witch, as nature intended?' - Jenna Peterson
The winter of our discontent
There is something very appealing about a quick fix.
The idea that our lives can be changed, that we can be changed, if we just lose five kilos, get fit, buy a new wardrobe or get rid of our wrinkles. If only we can become prettier, skinnier, more glamorous, more desirable. If we can somehow transform ourselves into something better, then we too will get our happy ever after.
Make over culture leads us to believe, that it is through external change our lives will be transformed. That the answer to our discontent, our feelings of inadequacy, our restlessness, our pain, can be found in magical lotions, potions, pills, powders and procedures.
We just need to fix ourselves. We just need to go from before to after.
But where is after? When will we be happy?
Sometimes, when you are feeling down, a visit to the hairdresser, purchasing a new dress or getting your nails done can be just the thing you need to give you a lift. Covid lockdown definitely taught us that.
But, an obsessive culture of continuous physical improvement, of monitoring your face and body, is not only damaging but it will leave you in a constant state of dissatisfaction.
'If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.'― Leo Tolstoy from 'Anna Karenina'
A make over doesn't provide you with the lasting change you need or desire. There is no fairy godmother to grant us with contentment and self worth. You can't buy self love or self acceptance.
The reality is, you don't need a revenge body, a bikini body, a glow up, a make over, a new wardrobe or a new face. You don't need to be 'fabulous at forty' or fifty or any age, you don't need to be a Glamma.
You don't need to be remade, reworked, refashioned or revamped. You aren't a building in need of renovation. You are a person. A glorious, wonderful, loving, feeling, dreaming person.
There is nothing wrong with your face.
There is nothing wrong with your body.
So, what will provide the lasting change that settles into your skin and becomes the lived experience of contentment?
It is slow, steady self reflection with a focus on change that nourishes the soul. Spending time nurturing yourself and appreciating yourself. Learning to accept yourself, warts and all.
It is unlearning what make over culture as brainwashed us to believe and teaching ourselves that being beautiful is not a prerequisite to being fulfilled.
When you feel the itchy sting of self criticism rise up, (Why do I look so old, fat, unfit, ugly etc) take a slow deep breath and ask yourself, what am I really needing in this moment? Is it comfort? Is it connection? Do I need a hug, a massage, a walk with a friend or time in solitude? Maybe a good cry followed by a warm bath?
Do you need to tune in to the present moment? Feel the sun on your skin, your feet on the grass?
When you quiet your mind and dig into the feeling, there will be an answer there. An answer that nurtures your spirit and calms your nervous system. Just take a moment to breathe.
'Your body is your first home. Breathing in, I arrive in my body. Breathing out, I am home' - Thich Nhat Hanh
Our long journey
On the last day of winter, four years after our epic road trip, my beloved wild, clever, funny father died.
Nothing prepares you for the crushing loss of someone you deeply love.
Western culture teaches us that there are five stages of grief. That somehow if you methodically work through the stages, you'll come out in tact.
But, you can't cleanse, tone and moisturise your way out of it.
Life was permanently changed. I was permanently changed.
Grief is the ultimate transformation.
Part of my grief was a deep longing for the wild, ugly woman in the desert. The part of me that only my father brought out. I longed for my connection to him through the wild bush adventures he had taken me on since I was a girl.
I longed for her unwashed, knotted hair, the boring clothes with only two jobs, skin exposed to the elements. I had been scared she'd never leave, now I was scared she'd never return.
Grief is an epic road trip with no destination. The journey is treacherous, painful and gruelling. But, the rewards are deep and profound.
And, if you let it, it will take you to places you have never been.
You discover well springs of empathy, of compassion and connection. The beauty in people, so abundant. It deepens you. It opens up a new dimension to life and you experience the fierce fragility of it all.
The beauty. The ugliness.
There is a wild, ugly woman in all of us. She isn't pretty because she doesn't have time for such things, it has no relevance to her. She is too busy being brave, untamed and free. Her heart is open to adventure and her spirit is alive with awe.
While you may not always welcome her presence, she is a significant part of who you are. She has a lot to teach you and, if you let her, she will take you to places you have never been.
I still moisturise my face daily, I still enjoy wearing make up when I want to and I absolutely adore getting dressed up any chance I get.
But, I am learning that feeling ugly is just as meaningful and just as important as feeling beautiful. It has something to tell you. I am learning that you should not be in such a rush to erase the feeling, to erase yourself.
You are not a before.
You are not an after.
You are beautiful, wild, ugly, brave and free. You are all of it, all at once.
Soon it will be winter and on the last day of the season it will be six years since Dad died. As the years wind around my grief, it becomes less sharp. Softer. The edges become blurry. I still feel it's pain but an immense beauty surrounds it.
I now know that beauty is a feeling.
The pleasure of perceiving beauty is what we feel.
On our wild bush adventure into the desert, I was intoxicated by the pleasure of beauty everywhere, just not in the way I looked.
But, as I have learned, you can perceive beauty in any part of yourself. And on the days you simply cannot, and all you want is a make over, just remember, that my Dad, William Grant Boots, aka Billie Boots, wants to know why you're putting that shit on your face. After all, the dirt is just going to stick to it.