The Lost Art of Imperfection: Modification of The Mouth
The Lost art of imperfection: modification of the mouth
Written by heather thorn
art by izzie Claudio
In 7th grade, I got braces put on and for each and every following day, I pulled my lips back to inspect my changing mouth in the mirror. Huffs of my breath fogging the glass as I searched for something I never found: a perfect smile. I didn’t discover a perfect smile on the day the metal finally came off, either. My dissatisfaction with my teeth began long before the braces and lives on long after—a tongue-tying confession that left me perpetually smiling with my lips sealed.
The first time I remember thinking something was wrong with my teeth was when my adult bottom row grew in at all different angles: less of an even horizon and more of a crooked mountain landscape emerging from my gums—minus the pretty view. I used to run the bottom of my tongue over each tooth’s jagged edge, impatiently awaiting the day my teeth would be smooth.
My serrated row of teeth was eventually drilled down, but it wasn’t without a little dignity; I remember a dental hygienist whirring the tool under the bright light and filing my teeth down without any warning. With the number of hours spent in waiting rooms or sitting in chairs while my orthodontist tightened my braces, all of those tiny rubber bands, and my retainer as a parting gift, I felt like I’d lost years from my lifespan by the end of it.
Four years of braces later, it was difficult to acknowledge I still wasn’t happy with my smile. The lengths I had gone for a perfect smile were astounding.
As I continued to be unhappy with my teeth, I saw perfect smiles all around me—Demi Moore’s blinding whites, Miley Cyrus’s flashing veneers, Selena Gomez’s new grin. I noticed the lost art of imperfection. Whatever happened to the toothgap trend popularized by Georgia May Jagger’s “Get the London look”? Authenticity is vanishing in a world where there seems to be a remedy for every self-perceived flaw. More and more people are caught red-handed and open-mouthed, their teeth no longer a unique element of character, but now bulky, straight, and blaringly white.
The irreversibility of veneers demonstrates an interesting shift in cosmetic surgery—one that cannot be undone. More than that, though, the rising popularity of beautifying operations insists that imperfections no longer be accepted. English actress and star of The White Lotus’s third season Aimee Lou Wood gained substantial attention earlier this year for her natural teeth: a noticeable overbite, wide spacing, and irregular alignment. Wood attracted even more publicity when Saturday Night Live mocked her teeth in a skit mimicking The White Lotus.
As it grows increasingly easier to fix our flaws by going to other countries for cheaper surgical procedures—the aptly named “Turkey Teeth” referring to travel plans in which one returns with a completely new set of pearly whites—where do we draw the line of modification if we can change anything about ourselves we don’t like?
Teeth are unique to each person; everyone’s smile is their own and a special element of character. I began to look at other people’s teeth and noticed what made them unique: the gaps, the shapes, the alignment, the chips, everything. As I fell in love with everyone else’s imperfect teeth, I began to fall in love with mine, too. That’s not to say I think my smile is perfect; it’s not, no one’s is. But today I’ve grown to accept the imperfections of my teeth and have found myself flourishing in authenticity—no longer embarrassed when smiling or shielding my mouth when I laugh. After all: if we can’t take pride in our smiles, then we have nothing to smile about.