To bleach his own

A quick clarification: You may be picturing me typing this essay in a clay hut, my unibrow proudly furrowed, my current (unshaved) girlfriend asleep on the pile of hay next to me, her jaundiced teeth glinting in the morning light. For the record, I use Aquafresh whitening toothpaste because I like the glittery box it comes in, and I am all for combating the coffee and red wine that I have no plans of ever giving up -- not to mention that I'm plenty aware women will find me more attractive if I don't have yellow teeth. My concern here is that by making these products seem so sexy, and therefore so necessary ("Irresistibly white. Irresistibly beautiful" is Crest's irresistible tagline) the companies have accidentally persuaded people to whiten their teeth as if whitening is an X-Games event, emancipating their enamel without noticing what's happening to their faces.

More and more I find I'm staring at teeth that are chalky and plastic-y, like Tic Tacs. I'm accosted by smiles that could guide me on a spelunking mission. When such souls eat a poppy seed bagel, their teeth look like dice. In the most extreme cases (the art-opening woman, for example) such teeth have surpassed the whole spectrum of white -- from nimbus to bone, pearl to opal -- and have turned a shade off ... blue. This is scary. All the more so when you realize that it's becoming accepted as the way humans should look. To want to appear young and hot is perfectly understandable. To want to appear a bit like a movie star is slightly pathetic but, in this day and age, palatable enough. But to morph into a nation of possessed mutant anchormen and beauty pageant queens is flat-out freaky.

But I actually think this whiter-than-white trend is about something bigger than the sly Smurfification of our teeth; it's about a new, discombobulating phase in our quest to "fight age" that extends far beyond our teeth. We are creating an archetype of beauty that's not simply young, but younger than young. It's the modern-day paradox: Never before have people looked so young and felt so old, and the impossible race toward the former is precisely what propels that latter. Comb through the tooth-whitening products, as I have, and you'll see that what they have in common is their promise to reverse time. As a result, human smiles are mutating into something nonhuman: teeth that are whiter than they were on that virgin day long ago when they first poked through the gum line.

A confession: There was a reason I used the waxed-genitals metaphor earlier, and it was to hammer home this very point. So, without further ado, I ask you to please turn your attention back to my ex-girlfriend's hairless crotch. Stand there in the dorm room with me. Hell, become me for a moment: a 17-year-old male who has waited an entire adolescence for this moment -- a real woman presenting herself to me, naked and willing! -- and what I get is a faux-sheepish, ersatz 11-year-old girl. Someone who has had pubic hair only for a few years, and already it's dragging her down. She looks silly, sure, but I can't lie. My attitude is: If this is how it's gonna be, I'll adjust. Soon enough, I'll forget how weird it actually is...

OK. Now file that away and take another look at the Crest Whitestrips ad with the foursome of sassy women deconstructing what must be their friend's lovemaking-induced glow. The product purports to "take off 14 years in 7 days." Well, I ran these numbers by a team of mathematicians who informed me that, when applied to the woman in question -- and, by extension, Crest's target demographic, aka the entire human race -- this means our radiant fox has acquired the "irresistible" smile of a ... 14-year-old girl! What could be sexier? What grown man could say no? Of course she got laid!

I'm exaggerating -- but only slightly. I don't think the nice people who run Crest or any other such company are purposely subscribing to the Pederast's School of Beauty. That said, something's gone awry, and I have a tip for all you chronic tooth whiteners out there: Turn away from the big bright light. Have a cup of coffee or maybe a nice glass of red wine. Trust me, everything will be OK.

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