Why are persians so good looking
My new friends— actual modern Tehrani women—served as my consultants. My costume required a mix of obvious elements and unexpected ones: a headscarf pushed back like Jackie Kennedy's, layers of makeup the screaming vanity of Tehrani women and all that , a skintight black dress Iranian women love pushing the limits of the Islamic Republic's rules , extra-tall Bumpits big hair is a bit of cultural lunacy much like tight pants among European men.
In Iran, a huge bulge under the headscarf is considered a major turn-on. Finally, my team of experts suggested a subtle but crucial detail to make my character a truly authentic upper-class Tehrani. Taking a last look at me, one of them said, "You need a Band-Aid across your nose. I may be American, but I'm Persian too, I wanted to say.
Of course I've had my nose done. Walking around Tehran, one will see glamorous women in hijab and expensive glasses, "bandages of honor" prominently displayed across their noses, sometimes long after healing, unafraid of offending the authorities.
The nose-job women of Tehran are nothing to marvel at anymore; they're the standard, and Western media love to watch them saunter about in all their brazen glory. In November , Oprah ran a story on Iranian cosmetic surgery: "Women see the bandage as a status symbol.
The bandage signals that you come from a family who cares and provides for you—even if you don't need a nose job, having a family that can afford to give you one is preferable to having the genetics for a petite nose.
Iran has the highest rate of nose surgery in the world per capita. According to most estimates, Iranians get four times the amount of nose jobs that Americans do. This is staggering for an Islamic country, and according to a March story in the Guardian , it's not limited to the rich, as clothing sellers, office workers, university students, and even teenagers opt to spend their savings or go into debt for the procedure.
Though cosmetic surgery has permeated the culture, the Islamic Republic has made only the slightest gestures of disapproval. Ayatollah Khomeini sanctioned rhinoplasty in the s, referencing the Hadith: "God is beautiful and loves beauty. It was only after —and the revolution that ousted the shah and brought in the Islamic Republic—that people considered Tehran the nose-job capital of the world. Why would this strange trend occur in an Islamic country?
There's no question that Iranian culture influences the behavior of the people more than Islam does, and for centuries that culture has placed a deep focus on physical beauty in all its forms. Given that, one explanation seems to have caught on: Because the mandatory hijab leaves nothing but the small circle of the face as a canvas for beauty and self-expression, Iranian women have become obsessed with their faces.
They want their features to be delicate, symmetrical, and European. Given many young women's willingness to go under the knife and into debt for beauty, nose jobs have become an Iranian rite of passage. After several decades the trend has spread throughout the Iranian diaspora, who also value their Persianness and are influenced by the culture back home.
For Persian women and some men, the operation is a marker not just of physical beauty but also of wealth and social priorities. It's not so much about vanity as about the desire to join a class of Iranians who look European, read American books, travel, and live Western lives. Ironically, removing the Persian bump, that distinctly Iranian hooked nose, contributes to one's sense of cultural identity. Therefore, one should gesture, touch people, or offer items using both hands together.
Using the one hand alone can seem too informal, but if doing so, use the right. It is common for Iranians to be late. It can be a good idea to allow more time for an arrangement or meeting with an Iranian than you normally would as their hospitality and communication style also means engagements often take longer. Visiting Iranians expect and appreciate punctuality. If your Iranian host is not wearing shoes, remove yours at the door.
Greet any elders present first before individually greeting everyone with a handshake. Entertaining happens in the guest room, which is usually the most lavishly furnished.
In some rural or traditional households, people may be seated on the ground. If so, avoid extending your legs out in front of other guests or the elderly. It is considered impolite. Men may socialise together whilst women socialise in a different room — sometimes on a different floor of the house. However, this is usually only in the most conservative of households and is more rare.
If dining, honoured guests may be seated at the head of the table. When leaving, expect goodbyes to be prolonged. You may have to politely insist on leaving. Eating Make your best effort to accept and try everything offered. You will likely be served second or even third servings.
Every time one is offered, protest politely in accordance to taarof before accepting the generosity. It is a great gesture to eat more servings, so it is best serve yourself less initially so you have more room to eat another serving.
Iranians often offer a portion of whatever they are eating to anyone present, even if no one shows interest. It is okay to politely decline. Eating everything on your plate generally indicates you enjoyed your meal. An Iranian may prompt you to have multiple servings.
You can say that you do not want any more food, but consider that they may take initial refusals as politeness and serve more anyway. Her companion, sitting cross-legged in front, gazes directly at the camera, a half-smile playing across her lips. She seems to be daring us to pity or patronise them. People in the Iranian art scene talk dismissively of "chador art", the anonymous photographer tells me with a sardonic laugh: the kind of art in which the garment figures prominently, to the exclusion of much else.
Many western collectors seem to want to buy this image of Iran by the yard. Eager to get a sense of how all this operates for someone actually making work, I call up the artist Azadeh Akhlaghi in Tehran, whose large-scale, cinematic photographs restaging key moments in Iranian history — often violent ones — have been exhibited both in Iran and internationally. On the one hand, she explains, she has to be cautious because of her subject matter. It's feasible for her to portray, say, the shooting of the student activist Marzieh Ahmadi Oskuie by the Shah's secret police in , hiring a cast of costumed extras and getting them to pose in the street.
But depicting a comparable event that occurred after , under the Islamic regime, would be impossible. By the same token, though, when Iranian gallery-goers look at Akhlaghi's epic depictions of assassinations and massacres, they are free to see whatever parallels they wish, she says. Akhlaghi's major concern before the show opened was that because she portrays pre-revolutionary events, the women in her scenes sometimes show their hair.
I was ready to say, 'Don't worry, they're wearing wigs, it's not real hair. It's what we artists have to do. While many Iranian artists have emigrated or live in exile, Akhlaghi and others stay not because they have no other choice, she points out, but because they want to. But I prefer to work in Tehran. This is my country, the place that gives me ideas. What will happen next in Iran, which has been hit punishingly hard by Covid, is anyone's guess.
In June, the hardliner Ebrahim Raisi became president in an election that critics claimed was rigged , and there are fears that a crackdown on civil liberties, especially those of women, might result. Even less clear is when, or even if, international travel — and international art loans — will resume at scale. Akhlagi and others I speak to are pessimistic about the big picture, but say that art carries on as it always has done, even in the toughest times of the Iran-Iraq war or under the conservative Mahmoud Ahmadinejad regime of Art has been in Iran for 5, years.
It will survive. In the meantime, it's up to us elsewhere to adjust our view — particularly our view of art by Iranian women. If you would like to comment on this story or anything else you have seen on BBC Culture, head over to our Facebook page or message us on Twitter. And if you liked this story, sign up for the weekly bbc. Striking photos of a lesser-seen Iran.
Share using Email. By Andrew Dickson 22nd September A new exhibition offers surprising images that puncture cliches of Iran, writes Andrew Dickson. More like this: - Epic Iran: The ancient roots of writing - Photos of groups hidden from the world - How the 'New Woman' blazed a trail The are many images of Iranian women on offer in the west, but not often ones quite like this.
If we want to understand the range and variety of art being produced by artists in Iran, it's time we looked past the Handsmaid's Tale-style cliches.
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