As the first generation of truly disaffected youth came of age, Generation X watched hippies trade in their “save the world” idealism of their youth to become yuppies who believed everything could be bought and sold. In Reagan’s America, neoliberalism took root, transforming corporations into people and people into brands. Raised as latch key children born to members of the “Silent Generation,” Gen-Xers understood they were on their own. Although taboo issues were finally starting to be spoken of openly on daytime talk shows, after school specials, and the occasional made-for-TV movies like The Burning Bed, by and large, silence continued to cloak the struggles many faced.
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Hailing from Huntington Beach, California, American photographer Deanna Templeton lived in the quintessential suburban home that epitomized American life. But for all her family’s strides, Templeton felt lost in a culture that pushed a shiny, pretty, picture perfect image of womanhood promoted by fashion magazines. As a teen, Templeton kept a journal, chronicling the pain she felt inside, exacerbated by the endless capitalization of unattainable standards of beauty foisted upon girls in their youth. Like so many others, Templeton equated her innate value with her attractiveness, channeling her sense of self worth into her appearance to detrimental effect.
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“By the time I hit 14 I was hard on criticizing myself for not being the way I wanted to be,” Templeton remembers. On November 17, 1986, she wrote in her journal, “Tonight for the 100th time I looked at myself in the mirror and realized how ugly I am and how cute I could of [sic] been. My acne is so horrible! I don’t understand why I am so ugly. I hate it. I wish I was dead until it went away. Someone please help me.”
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