They can stock up on all the masalas (spices) from desi (local) grocery stores, yearn for mangoes of the langda variety, watch back-to-back episodes of Mann Mayal back, but their joy is elevated to new heights when a gora (white person) mistake them for being Hispanic, Iranian or even Lebanese. Overseas Pakistanis, in a bout of combative competition, often tell each other proudly, “Yahan toh mujhe koi Pakistani hee nahin samajhta” (Here no one takes me as a Pakistani). Women indulge in this more often than men; the lawn-shawn from Lahore is great to wear, but they do everything to maintain the almost-inherited “fair and lovely” complex, often carrying it with them in their baggage across seven seas. The British monarchy paved way for Pakistan’s independence 69 years ago, but most of the population hasn’t been able to shed feelings of inferiority, and their dependency on western ideals of beauty. This is applicable to those both inside and outside of Pakistan: a new identity based purely on looks appeals to many. After all, even the concept of Pakistani bridal makeup centres upon painting a new face over the existing one. The beautician works tirelessly with his or her magic to transform the bride completely. Little is done to enhance the existing features; the bride’s parents pay a hefty sum to get themselves a new daughter — facially at least. More is less with our dulhans (brides). Before females reach the wedding stage though, most of them are paraded in the shaadi (marriage) bazaar, often from their early teenage years. Their male cousins and older aunties start eyeing the “pyari” (lovely) one in the family. You know the type: fair, slim-waisted, soft-featured, longhaired gal. All others failing to meet the Pakistan Beauty Challenge are eliminated, and deemed below average. The best proposals are reserved for the one who meets the conventional beauty ideals. Men are willing to accept her tantrums, and she usually goes through her life without much of a struggle for acceptance. The other girls in sheer desperation and feeling out-casted start emulating the “pretty” one, with similar hairdos and style. And that is why most young females end up looking the same in Pakistan, leaving little room for individuality. Pakistan is a nation with various ethnicities that boast of many skin tones from the colour palette. From milky white to smouldering dusk we have it all, but the celebrated ones in our society are the ones who can pass off for being Persian looking. It is no surprise then that Kareena Kapoor has been a default favourite with us for over a decade. I’ve been in conversations where educated women have disregarded Priyanka Chopra or Deepika Padukone for looking like a maasi (maid). If one does not look like one belongs to a mountainous region of Pakistan one gets thrown into the maasi category easily. Maids in Karachi are usually from the Seraiki speaking belt of Punjab, and have some of the most striking features, but inclusivity has never been our cup of chai. The morning shows, and even cooking shows, have celebrities dishing out remedies to get slim — which in Pakistan means losing the curves completely. One body type for one diversified nation. Different is deplored and made to toe the line. The husbands or partners are more than happy to deprive their wives or girlfriends of self-esteem. “Look at so and so, be like her, maintain yourself” is often their rhetoric. So, essentially many Pakistani women have spent a large part of their lives feeling not so good about themselves at all. We are big on beauty, of the external kind only. There are countless jokes about pakora (dumpling) noses; girls with natural wavy hair are likened to Diana Ross; and comparison to anyone with African roots is considered humiliating to us. Citizens who attain easy fame in Pakistani showbiz also have similar physical attributes and demeanour. The Neelam Munirs, Mahira Khans, Mawra Hocanes, or ones who have similar physical attributes, are rewarded with the best life in Pakistan. This is the type we like to put on a pedestal, and eventually, it becomes the type masses prefer for marriage, leaving the rest of the females to keep checking their mirrors many times a day to find faults in their natural, alluring selves. So ladies, you ought to make peace with the harsh fact that the actual problem lies with society and not yourself. Stifle that nagging inner voice every time it whispers, “You are not up to the mark,” and embrace yourself completely. The East India Company, responsible for the eventual British Raj, still has several open branches operating in the minds of many. It’s time we pulled their shutters down completely. The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug