“ Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all? ”
The magic mirror, a mystical object most recognizable from the 1937 Walt Disney film Snow White, encapsulates the Evil Queen’s envy and ego as she desperately searches for validation. Throughout the story, the Queen gazes into the mirror, summoning the trapped soul inside, pleading for it to tell her she is the most beautiful in all of the land. Alas, before the Queen meets her tragic ending, she is told that there is indeed someone more fair— her arch nemesis and stepdaughter, Snow White.
The Evil Queen’s obsession with her mirror is drawn from vanity and narcissism, but she is met with a harsh truth. The need to compare herself to other women leads to inevitable disappointment. We are guilty of this habit, too. Comparison kills confidence; many of us know this feeling all too well.
The mirrors on our bathroom walls are not home to trapped souls like in a fairytale, but much like in the case of the Evil Queen, they do lead to perpetual feelings of inadequacy. Though the mirrors may not use words to talk back to us, we can still hear a voice saying we are not enough. But why do we care what the mirror thinks? And whose voice is it, anyway?
Before mirrors existed, broken reflections were found on standing bodies of water and reflective metals. Aside from these imperfect portrayals, the concept of self-image could only be derived from within. Now, we wonder what we look like, so we glance. Sometimes, we stare. In fact, we may look at ourselves dozens of times a day (in the bathroom, in the car, and even while passing glass windows). Each time we catch a glimpse of our mascara running or our bra straps showing, we learn a little more about ourselves. For better or worse, we are often surprised by the person looking back at us in the glass.
Cultural Significance of Reflections
In film, mirrors are known to be quite ominous. Paranormal activity surrounds the mirrors of many horror movies, such as Oculus and Carrie, likely inspired by the tall tale of Bloody Mary. Legend says that if one chants her name three times, the spirit will appear in the mirror and attack the onlooker, scratching out his eyes and drinking his blood. This idea of being able to conjure something in a mirror that didn’t exist on its own remains prevalent in our society today.
Albeit some superstitions surrounding mirrors involve evil spirits, not all of them do. The Jewish religion has a ritual called shiva, observed for seven days following the burial of a loved one. While sitting shiva, Jewish people cover mirrors in their homes as a reminder that times of grief are not about oneself, and personal appearances are of low importance. The first look into a mirror after shiva has passed can be particularly heartbreaking because the person in the mirror will never be the same; a piece of ourselves is lost when we lose someone that we love.
Certain Catholic traditions also call for the covering of mirrors after a death. Some say that it is merciful to cover mirrors so that the deceased’s soul will not become trapped. (Perhaps this is what happened to the soul caught in the Magic Mirror.) Covering the mirrors in a house after death is a way to both respect the dead and keep them away at the same time. This practice is intended to help smooth the transition of a person’s soul from earth to heaven for the sake of the dead, but we would be kidding ourselves to ignore the other component: nobody wants to pass by a mirror and be haunted by the startling image of someone they love trapped inside.
You are probably most familiar with the superstition regarding seven years of bad luck. The Ancient Romans created this myth, which states that if one breaks a mirror after his image is reflected upon it, he will be cursed with seven years of perpetual bad luck.
The superstitious, the Jews, the Catholics, the Romans, and everyone in between all have one thing in common: we are obsessed with our own reflection. The version of ourselves that we see in a mirror is sometimes daunting, sometimes calming. It is true, after all, that the only person from whom you can never escape is yourself. Just like Peter Pan’s shadow, our reflection will never stop following us.
Social Mirror Theory and the Power of Photoshop
Mirrors are both constant and ever-changing. The glass you look in today may have the same atomic configuration tomorrow, but you will never encounter the same version of yourself twice. Similarly, no two people will ever see you in the same way.
But what matters more: the way we see ourselves or the way other people see us?
French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan discovered in a 1940s study that babies begin to recognize their own reflections as themselves as early as six months old, in a stage called the mirror phase. It may be confusing to them at first, but infants are eventually fascinated with the challenge of learning to understand their own reflection; research shows it brings them pleasure.
It is unclear at what point we transition from self-admiration to self-deprecation. Psychologist Wilhelm Dilthey is primarily attributed with originating Social Mirror Theory, which states that how society and the immediate peers in your life view you affect the way you see yourself. In other words, mirrors in your own mind are crafted by mirrors you encounter in society (the opinion of others). Researcher Charles Whitehead says that Social Mirror Theory explains self-consciousness and our ever-persistent need for others’ approval. Insecurity is rooted in comparison: both comparison of yourself to others and comparison of how you see yourself to how others see you.
In his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, author Stephen R. Covey implies that Social Mirror Theory could predict success in life, as those who are being constantly uplifted and supported tend to do better than those who are dragged down and generally disregarded by teachers, parents, and peers. Despite not having to do with literal mirrors, I would like to offer that this theory goes further than the elegant metaphor— that it holds true to physical appearance as well.
As humans, we would have no concept of beauty if it were not for the existence of others. Beauty is a sliding scale of comparison and conformity. Because the definition of beauty is so abstract, it has been recognized by some as “toxic.” Western society worships celebrities who emphasize that uniqueness and individuality ought to be celebrated, yet we scroll through their Instagram feeds and double-tap on the heavily photoshopped posts sponsored by Maybelline and Ipsy. Who gives influencers the authority to speak on authenticity when unedited posts on their profiles are so hard to find?
You would be hard-pressed to find an area of modern-day society that remains unscathed by the effects of technological invention. In most realms, it has changed the world for the better. But when it comes to self-image and mental health, technology has surely had a tragic impact. Adobe Photoshop and the Facetune app make it way too easy to completely alter a selfie. We constantly compare our own features to those who have seemingly achieved unattainable beauty standards, like perfectly straight teeth, no flyaways, and a sharp, acne-free jawline. Oftentimes we forget that beyond iPhone apps, influencers and celebrities have entire teams to make perfection possible.
Try as much as I might, my lips will never be as plump as Kylie Jenner’s. My skin will never glow like Ashley Benson’s. My freckles will never be as perfectly placed as Gigi Hadid’s. My body will never rest in an hourglass shape like Kim Kardashian’s. The truth is, theirs will not either. No one walks the red carpet without a perfect spray tan, four hours spent in the hair and makeup chair, and an outfit that costs more than the average American monthly mortgage (not to mention the tens of thousands of dollars spent on plastic surgery). Beyond that, photographs from the red carpet do not make it on a social media page without intensive editing, professionally crafted captions, and a biased algorithm sure to boost engagement. They will never even really be the versions of themselves that the world sees, which is why these influencers struggle, often admittedly. Riverdale star Lili Reinhart is most famous for opening up about her problems with body dysmorphia. Despite being an influencer herself, she is vulnerable with her followers about the toll that the Western standard of beauty takes on her mental health and body image, proving that it can impact nearly everyone.
As a society, we have given innovation (see: makeup, photoshop, plastic surgery, an ungodly amount of money) the power to rewrite the standards of beauty, henceforth distorting where we see ourselves falling on the scale of physical attractiveness, especially as compared to others. The better that strangers look on camera, the worse we think we look in real life.
Though the idolization of physical attractiveness is a tale as old as time, what constitutes beauty has been rewritten over and over, just in our lifetimes alone. We can blame the celebrity or the social media teams who constantly churn out content on behalf of the influencer. We can blame the plastic surgeons, the blood-sucking corporate gods at Sephora headquarters, or even the artificial intelligence that has perfected the TikTok feed algorithm… but the truth is, without a consumer, there would be no product to sell. We keep buying this product — this idea that being constantly put together and flawlessly glowing is realistic. We double-tap the pictures. We buy the promotional products from affiliate links. We have no one to blame but ourselves. We promote the same standards we claim to stand vehemently against.
The Truth About Mirror Distortion
Of course, a type of existential crisis has never occurred while flossing my teeth after my lunch break. It is only when I suffer an extreme emotional wave that I have really taken the time to consider my own reflection. After finding out I have a long-lost 26-year-old brother, for example. Or after the love of my life got engaged… to someone else. It is in these times of devastating grief, overwhelming confusion, or violating rage that we tend to truly see our own selves through the eyes looking back at us. When there is no one else to blame, nowhere else to point the finger, the only thing to do is to walk into the bathroom, flip the lights on, and stare so hard into your own tearful eyes that you can see your lonely, terrified soul. And it feels like the mirrored glass shatters beneath you as you crash to rock bottom, lying on a cliffside and wondering, “Why, God, am I like this?”
Without the validation of our friends and romantic partners, we could go our entire lives without being called beautiful. Perhaps some do. The social mirror then becomes an echo chamber. The pretty get prettier, and the ugly get uglier. Whether or not you realize it, every time you look in the mirror, everything that strangers and lovers tell you about yourself exists between you and the glass. Everything you know about yourself— the lies, the mistakes, the heartbreak, the failure, and the success— lingers in the air. You cannot escape it.
Maybe that is why our own reflection, at times, makes us jump. We are not scared of mirrors, but we are scared of the way society sees us.
Truthfully, mirrors cannot change what is right in front of them. Bias and ego may allow our brains to trick themselves into seeing something that is not really there, but mirrors can only distort the truth; they cannot change the truth.
Think of it like a funhouse. A clear mirror reflects anything or anyone who stands before it, with no alterations to the physical being. A distorted mirror will not reflect the same reality. Some “mirrors” allow us to see things we may prefer to the truth, while others show us things we distaste. Little kids run into these sketchy contraptions and stand before glass that make them appear six feet taller or two hundred pounds heavier. Of course, it is all in good fun. They are kids, after all. But what happens when the funhouse exists in another realm of reality, one that lives inside of our heads?
Every societal standard of poreless skin and petite body frames reshapes the truth that we know. Our self-view is not being distorted in the mirror; it’s being distorted in our minds. Other people seeing us in a negative light in and of itself is harmless. As soon as someone else’s view of us begins to impede on our view of ourselves is when it becomes dangerous.
Just like when the Evil Queen begs the poor soul trapped in her magic mirror, we oftentimes hold onto hope that we will see a skinnier, healthier, happier, “better” version of ourselves than exists on our side of the glass. Mirrors are not magic in real life. They cannot create an alternate reality on their own; we do that. The magic mirror represents something much deeper than the Queen’s own reflection— it represents her fears of the truth.
In a way, mirrors, much like in Snow White, can talk back to us. Though, as imperfect humans who were not created to withstand constant self-criticism in a world that already passes enough judgment, it may be impossible to survive a state of constant reflection. Mirrors are killing us from the outside in. But the funny thing about mirrors is that much like humans, they alone are powerless. Mirrors do not reflect anything in the dark, but we cannot stop turning on the lights.