I Hate My Famous Face

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be mistaken for a celebrity? To be mistakenly asked for your autograph? This is a problem that I face on a weekly basis. Yes, problem… I hate my famous face.

The truth is I’m not devastatingly beautiful; in no way should I naturally fall under the category of celebrity status. In fact quite the opposite. My problem is that I’m pretty much as average as you get. Medium brown hair, dark brown eyes, average build, combined with a round face and very symmetrical facial features, and there you have it. They should have named me Jane.

It began once I grew out of my awkward pre-teen phase. I had grown out of my braces and into my large frog-like eyes. Then I noticed people looking at me strangely, as if I were a shadow of someone they had known in the past. It was only a matter of time before I had to repeatedly insist that I am not so and so, nor am I their long lost sister, aunt, or cousin. These are often tense conversations since many people are so adamant about my own identity they become frustrated or offended when I have no idea who they are.

My baby face fuels this confusion. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t have been Derek’s prom date. I graduated from COLLEGE in May.” People insist that I was in grade school with their children, which is impossible since I grew up in North Carolina and haven’t lived there for almost a decade. However, it doesn’t matter how much evidence I have to the contrary. They made up their minds about who I was the moment they saw me.

What’s worse is people trying to recall where they might know me from. I can’t defend myself from this at all. “Do I know you from Girl Scouts? Wait! Maybe it was Sunday school. Or perhaps we did sports together?” As soon as someone looks at me with that inevitable, “Don’t I know you?” stare I have an intense urge to duck and cover. All you can do is stand there, head shaking, responding with the occasional “No, uh, I don’t think so.”

Being a server for four years I’m put in these situations a lot, and it’s not like I can walk away. Sometimes people get a real kick over how much I remind them of someone, which leads to an increase in my tips. Other times people are upset that I’m not the person they thought I was. The best is when people obviously don’t like whoever it is I “am.” It’s great fun to wait on people who hate you for absolutely no reason.

More often I get people comparing me to celebrities. This I have decided is not because more people think I look like a celebrity rather than someone they know, but because to most people it would be considered a compliment. I, however, am the exception to this rule. My first look-a-like was Wynona Rider. For years people told me that; I even once was asked for my autograph based on this assumption.

Then it was Shiri Appleby, Sandra Bullock, Neve Campbell, Helena Bonham Carter, Salma Hayek, Selma Blair, Penelope Cruz, and most recently Tina Fey. Of course my celebrity looks coincide with who’s career is booming. Other times it depends on how I’m dressed, or what makeup I’m wearing. If I wear my normal clothes I’m Wynona; regular clothes and glasses (my usual attire) and boom… “Hello I’m Tina Fey,” heavy makeup, high heels and a dress Salma H; when people are on crack I’m Penelope; business attire Selma B, no makeup and dark circles Helena.

My celebrity looks have spurred some interesting conversations. One day as Wynona a man told me I fit the profile of a shoplifter. Another time a woman told me I looked like Ari from Planet of the Apes followed by, “Well, not Ari as the monkey, the actress who plays the monkey,” just to clarify. That day I was tired with no makeup, which almost always means I will get a Helena Bonham Carter reference.

Then I get people who are flabbergasted by how much I look like Tina Fey. “You look exactly, I mean exactly, like her, you know. Like, exactly!” This is what I get for taking my celebrity self out to bars. Yes, occasionally I get look-a-like references as a sort of pick up line. “Wow, you were really great in Dogma. Love that stripper scene.” But this rarely happens.

Sounds great? Sure, these women are amazingly beautiful and I do feel honored to be placed in the same category. It’s different, however, to be told over and over again that you look like Salma Hayek and only Salma Hayek. It’s another story when you are told you look like everyone under the sun with dark hair and eyes. I am a blank canvas. People see me how they want to see me because I’m unidentifiable. My sister and I have often argued about what is considered beautiful. To her having symmetrical features is ideal. I see beauty in the flaws.

The real issue is my sense of self. Being told all the time that I look and even act like someone else makes me feel like I don’t make enough of an impression. People don’t see me when they look at me, they see someone else. If I haven’t been related to someone else then I’m forgettable. I’m not sure which is worse. This leads to insecurity not about how I look, but who I am. It’s ironic that looking like someone who is constantly in the limelight makes me feel invisible.