The Subtle "Charm" of Superficiality

Superficiality is a way of life that has spread through a small part of Venezuelan society, and of the whole world, like a gentle drizzle that leads us to live as if we were the heroes of a fairy tale or of a glossy “dream” magazine.

And speaking of “dream” magazines, I want to share some of the comments posted on Twitter the day one of these magazines, whose pages are full of the “enchanting” world of the jet set, was launched in Venezuela: “Forgive my ignorance, but what use is a magazine like that in this country?” “Life’s ironies: with the country the way it is, they launch this magazine. Is it just me, or are they out of touch?” “This country has room for everything; it’s falling to pieces, but that magazine couldn’t be missing.” “I just found out the famous Spanish magazine has a Venezuelan edition. How sad!” “Don’t tell me this isn’t a reason for pride and deep rejoicing. Always so profound.”

Sadly, some people have grown used to thinking there is nothing wrong with a superficial life. And then it can happen that, thinking this way, our life slips away reading “light” magazines: seeing lots of pretty things we don’t need but then feel like buying, and end up buying even if they are very expensive; looking at the living rooms, bedrooms or bathrooms of the famous so we can replace the ones we already have; looking at the models so we can do the impossible to look like them (which means hours at the gym, surgery and so on); looking at the dresses so we can have one made in the latest fashion for every party we are invited to, with matching accessories, jewelry, shoes, handbags, watches and so on, so as not to repeat it, because how awful if we are seen wearing the same dress more than once!

In short, the subtle charm of superficiality traps us so thoroughly that we can spend our whole lives on it, and then we reach old age living (or wanting to live) in the world of magazines.

As a Venezuelan I ask myself: after everything we have been through these years, can it be that we still haven’t learned the lesson? I don’t even want to think about what some social activists, who are out there working “quietly and tirelessly” and sweating buckets, have always told me: “This country still has to hit rock bottom before we wake up, react and realize that Venezuela’s future depends on the serious commitment of all of us.” And between those two words, “serious commitment,” there is no room for the subtle word superficiality. It’s that simple.

One of the editors of that publication, which came out about a month ago, told the press that Venezuela was an ideal place for this magazine, because even though there is no royalty here, many wonderful parties are thrown and “the parades of gowns seen there are fantastic.”

On this subject I want to mention a comment by a family friend who lives in Kenya and came to Venezuela a few years ago. During his days here he was invited to several parties, and he was so struck that he told everyone he met that this country was like the Titanic: “Venezuela is sinking, and meanwhile people keep celebrating and squandering as if nothing were happening.” A little research into how much work party-planning agencies have in Venezuela is more than enough to see at once that this is the reality.

I hope we stop and think, and realize that the subtle “charm” of superficiality traps us little by little and cuts us off from the world, to the point of making us live (or want to live) with our heads in the clouds.

I hope we can come down from those clouds and stand on the ground where the vast majority of our Venezuelan brothers and sisters are standing. Then we will realize that what is needed here is to educate, and to set an example, in values, and certainly not in superficiality.

Otherwise, whatever happens in our country, we will never get out of the hole we are in.