What Happened to My Face?

I get that chick lit would want to signal to its demographic that it should “pick me” by making its book colours that no self-respecting man (and many woman) would want to be caught reading (unless they, along with the book, were trying to be ironic, which is hard to pull off on a subway platform or any other public reading place).  Leading to the obvious conclusion that a book can be judged by its colour.  In this case, mauve.  What I don’t get is why chick lit book covers inevitably are graced by faceless women – women whose images are cut off at the head, or are wearing big hats that hide their features, or are simply turned the wrong way.  Is it so that the (likely female) reader can better identity with the heroine?  That is, imagine that the svelte figure on the cover is her and not have someone else’s face on top of it to inconveniently prove otherwise?  Are we that easily duped?

For those of you wanted to know, I am happy to report that the original chick lit book did have a face … of sorts.  But after it became a movie, we all wanted to look like Renée Zellweger … obscuring her face.

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