Be SUPER!

I am a Yoko Ono

I chanced upon this interesting article from the online TIME which gathered the top 10 Nude Magazine Covers of all time. Well, “nude” and “interesting” are usually interchangeable these days, but what particularly piqued my interest is that of John Lennon and wife Yoko Ono on the cover of a 1980 issue of the Rolling Stone magazine. To be honest, it was not a pretty picture — Yoko Ono looked too masculine and her outfit was not flattering at all; and John Lennon, THE John Lennon, was in an ugly, fetal position exposing his wrinkled white skin and thin fragile frame. It was all too strange to see, particularly for someone recognized for brilliant, decade century-defining music and strawberry fields-sized ego.

And then the write up shed some light:

“On Dec. 8, 1980, noted lenswoman Annie Leibovitz photographed former Beatles singer John Lennon and his wife Yoko Ono at the couple’s New York City apartment for Rolling Stone. Leibovitz had initially wanted to shoot Lennon alone, but he insisted they both be in the photograph. After she asked Lennon to remove his clothes and curl up next to Ono, Leibovitz said Ono offered to remove her top, but the photographer told her to keep her clothes on. The resulting photo of a nude Lennon curled around his wife “captured our relationship exactly,” Lennon allegedly said after seeing a Polaroid. Five hours later, he was shot outside of the Dakota Building on Manhattan’s Upper West Side and was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. The photograph was the cover ofRolling Stone‘s tribute to Lennon, and in 2005 it was chosen by the American Society of Magazine Editors as the top cover of the previous 40 years.”

(I think there should be a pause here somewhere to allow this to sink in.)

Although it is tragic that John Lennon died 5 hours after this photo was taken, I can’t help but think how beautiful it is — how his life ended with such vulnerability, how, in his last few hours, John Lennon was exposed to the world — and most importantly, to Yoko Ono — as how he really is: weak, naked, human. How — stripped of all his records and his larger-than-life name — his can’t-live-without remains to be Yoko Ono who, more effectively so in the photo above, visually radiates as Lennon’s pillar of strength.

It is the kind of image that is so painfully beautiful, it causes an almost tangible pain in the chest. I’ve always thought that art should never be restricted to museums — they should be more available to people, and what better way to do it than to be in the cover of a Rolling Stone magazine.

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In the past, I have had episodes of uncertainty & confusion about my personal equity (forgive the corporate term). Fundamentally, I am an alpha female — that girl who loves to compete in a man’s world & beat them at it, who can’t understand why guys have to carry girls’ purses, etc, etc. And although this did me a lot of good in cutting balls in the business world, the same strategy has equal and opposite effect in the dating world — and this, ladies and gentlemen, was the seed of my aforementioned uncertainty/confusion.

In an attempt to tone it down and be the darling of the dating world as well — or maybe it’s part of my being a go-getter? — I went through the dreaded Taylor Swift phase. I dated a lot, tried my hand at being a damsel in distress, and wore so much florals that my closet began to look like a garden. Thankfully, the phase was short-lived; I felt that my core character was disintegrating and I was losing so much of myself already. If that was the cost of dating, it’s very expensive and I decided to ditch the effort altogether and get back to my old albeit less adorable self.

Admittedly, it is the sweet & charming girls who are always ahead of the game. They are just so likable, and they feed men’s hunger for other people’s dependence on them with so much generosity that I can never afford. But the photo above is a testimony that there is a niche for us Yoko Onos. The Taylor Swifts of the world will date more Prince Charmings than us, yes, but there will come a time when our John Lennons will come looking for us. There is as much room for damsels in distress as there is for alpha females in this world, so I hope people will stop telling me that I should act more of the other type in order to be more “date-able” because, by God, I can never resort to sweet talking even at gunpoint.

Why am I writing about this? I honestly don’t know. Maybe because it is disappointing to note that there are less and less of them John Lennons nowadays. People want things easy, but that’s not the way to earn a Yoko Ono. Because Yoko Onos will stick with you through the hardest times in your life (as they are smart enough to know that there are no perfect happily-ever-afters outside of storybooks), so you gotta do better than that. And I’m not talking about material things —  it usually goes by the simple acknowledgment of the strength of the girl and not minding who wears the pants; by stripping yourself of insecurities and putting a stop to childish who’s-better-at-what.

Alas. Easier said than done.

But in the end, even if it means less Prince Charmings and fairytale endings, I am, by DNA, a Yoko Ono. I won’t have it any other way (although I proved that I can rock a lot of florals). Storybook covers are always so colorful — some with glitters, even — but John & Yoko’s cover on the Rolling Stone, awkward and unpleasant as it may look, is the real deal and will always be the symbol of what a true love story means to me.

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