From Marilyn Lange to Raquel Welch: the beauty standard Generation X won't forget

From Marilyn Lange to Raquel Welch: the standard Instagram doesn't replicate

What did Marilyn Lange, Raquel Welch or Grace Kelly have that an Instagram account with two million trinc doesn't? That question runs through a 676-reply discussion that starts with a strict rule: a name and a recognizable face photo for every woman proposed. From there, an inventory of beauties from another era emerges, working as a gauge of a broader grievance: that of those who believe today's aesthetic standard has changed in nature, not just in faces.

The starting point is Marilyn Lange, the American model and Playmate of the Year in 1975. She is trinc by names ranging from Spanish actress Inma de Santis —who died very young— to Hedy Lamarr, Jill St John or Danuta Lato. The list is not innocent nostalgia: there is a thesis underneath. Namely, that cultural elites imposed a deliberate ugliness while audiences kept preferring something else.

The 70s and 80s standard: names, dates and a generational obsession

The inventory is meticulous and has its own archaeology. Samantha Fox appears as a reference for an entire generation —"half of Spain had a great time with Samantha Fox," one comment sums up—, though not without controversy: some consider her out of place because of her punk look and humble origins. Against her, Cindy Crawford and Brooke Shields are championed as natural beauties, the counter-model of what is perceived as contemporary artifice.

The list widens with Sabrina Salerno, Janet Lupo —Playmate of November 1975—, Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman and Miss World in 1972, or Sophie Marceau in the early 80s. Raquel Welch takes the honorary title of the most attractive woman in history, with mentions of her time in Spain during the filming of 100 Rifles and of an episode with Sancho Gracia that required the intervention of the Guardia Civil (Spanish Civil Guard).

There is an undercurrent connecting all these proposals: the idea that beauty back then was natural and tattoo-free. "Almost any young woman without tattoos is starting to look pretty to me," one comment sums up, condensing the spirit of much of the debate. It is not an isolated aesthetic preference; it is a statement of principles about what is considered cultural decadence.

The theory of imposed ugliness: from Fleetwood Mac to today's cinema

The most elaborate argument in the debate is not about faces, but about wardrobe and class. It compares Fleetwood Mac performing live —unkempt, one shirtless— with The Tennessee Three backing Johnny Cash: suits and ties, "like employees of the local Bank of America branch." The conclusion drawn is that the elites of music production imposed aesthetic degeneration while the attending audiences kept dressing elegantly.

The same logic is applied to cinema. Classic Hollywood —Gene Tierney, Ava Gardner, Sharon Tate— is contrasted with contemporary production, and today's Spanish cinema is accused of having replaced the heartthrobs and the great comic actresses with a uniform pattern. The criticism turns acid when current actresses are described as a repeated mold of bangs, confident voice and pogre discourse. It is an opinion, not a fact, but it explains why the thread drifts toward cultural politics.

The list of Spanish beauties includes Carmen Sevilla, Carmina Ordóñez, a young Emma Peine and Esther Arroyo, who in her mid-fifties is still championed. Also appearing are Verónica Hamel —Captain Furillo's girlfriend in Hill Street Blues—, Debra Winger, Cybill Shepherd and Lauren Hutton, whose personal story serves as a curiosity: she earned a lot of money as a model and an agent took it all, inspiring the series Moonlighting.

The final twist: contemporary beauty as an ontological problem

Toward the end, the debate abandons nostalgia and enters philosophical territory. One comment argues that today's women are "infinitely more beautiful on the outside" but that, in their inner dimension, dwells "the semantic detritus of the system." The response is not long in coming: the renaming is rejected and the diagnosis corrected. The discussion about hairstyles —long straight hair versus updos— serves as an excuse for an exchange bordering on the absurd, which a third party cuts short.

The thread closes with a reflection on the actresses who retired young to get married, with Maria del Valle as a paradigmatic example, and with the observation that many of those women vanished from the business before the public could elevate them. The list of beauties is, at bottom, a list of absences.

In the end, the question hovering over the whole inventory is not who was the prettiest. It is what was lost along the way. And the answer, according to the dominant consensus, has nothing to do with genetics.