What these 100-year-old women teach us about beauty
"My father was a painter and craftsman and he shared his love of art with me. I believe that everything that is artistic is beautiful: theater, picture frames, poems, paintings, flowers, songs. In a person, it's the character, the silhouette, the smile and the eyes that count. That said, my biggest regret is not getting an education. Doors open for you when you're educated. Otherwise you feel shame. Regardless of the situation, I would advise young women to educate themselves."
Marie-Berthe Paquette, 102 years old, Montreal, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
When I started shooting this story, I wished to talk about elderly women’s conditions in general, but I had no clear idea about what angle I was going to take. I took pictures of nothing and everything surrounding these centenarians from the Montérégie region, Québec, Canada. But one thing kept occurring: every single woman I photographed wanted to groom herself to make sure she would look good in my pictures. This is how it became a story about beauty.
“I personally find myself beautiful, and when I don’t, I do my best anyway! I like to have my hair neatly styled and wear dresses, jewelry and other accessories. I’ve always paid attention to my appearance. In fact, I’m known as la frache (the trendy lady).” Marie-Berthe Paquette, 102 years old, Montreal, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“I actually care more about beauty today than when I was young. I like to dress rather well, in pretty, simple, and practical dresses. I put on foundation and perfume in the morning, lipstick after each meal, and I go to the hairdresser’s every week. I’m also careful not to eat foods that are either too rich or too sweet. It’s important to not let oneself go. I used to enjoy wearing necklaces, but I can no longer attach them, so I gave up.” Solange Racine, 101 years old, Granby, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
Lise Provost (right) talks about her mother, Laure Saucier (left), who passed away in 2016: “She was very stylish and competitive. She was in love with my father and I think she worried about not being good enough. She always wore lipstick, blush, high heels, earrings, perfume, and curled her hair. She’d rub baby oil on herself and bought Madame Avon’s rejuvenating creams. In the evening she went to bed with cotton strips wrapped under her chin and fastened on the top of her head, hoping to lift and tauten her chin and cheeks.” (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“I definitely find myself as ugly. Beauty fades as we get older. Our noses and ears get bigger, our gait changes, we get hunched backs. Some are worse off than me, but I’m not beautiful at all. Still, I enjoy life and I look forward to the future, even if it’s a short one when you’re 100 years old.” Jeannette Ballard, 100 years old, Granby, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“When I was young I had long hair, nice legs and curves. Young ladies today all strive to be skinny, but I think that real beauty is natural beauty. We are who we are, and that’s all that matters.” Anne-Marie Pronovost, 100 years old. She died in 2017. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“The word beauty invokes great classic French authors, and music. When I was young, I always had my nose in a book and I wrote. I don’t mean to brag, but people envied my writing skills. I like Mozart a lot, but it’s Beethoven who really makes my heart sing.” Madeleine Beaugrand Champagne, 102 years old, St-Bruno de Montarville. She died in 2017. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
Laure Saucier died in 2016 at 101 years old, Acton Vale.
Her daughter, Lise Provost, remembers her mom’s struggles with beauty: “Even though we constantly told her that she was beautiful, my mom had always found herself ugly. She often said that she had a monkey face and that she didn’t like her plumpness. My mother regularly dieted. There were stretches where we went without potatoes, bread, or desserts. She also tried different weight loss pills. She wore girdles and corsets that she’d buy at Mrs. Dinovitzer’s store. I think her weight had always been her biggest fixation.” (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“When I was young, like all women, I wanted to be attractive. I curled my hair, wore the beautiful outfits my mom made for me and suffered in high heels. Still, I never wore makeup; I felt like it was fake. I married my husband because he was handsome, which I ended up regretting. He wasn’t a very good partner and I ended up kicking him out. Rather than maintaining physical beauty, which is vain, I advise young women to cultivate the beauty that surrounds them. You can tend a garden, draw, play music. It’s important to be kind, independent, and constantly educate yourself. ”
Madeleine Beaugrand Champagne, 101 years old, St-Bruno de Montarville. She died in 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“As a young lady, I could not afford to be frivolous. We were poor and had to work all the time. We had to take part in day-to-day chores, pick the raspberries, take care of the babies, cook, help with the harvest, do housework and bathe the children … and all of that without electricity. We didn’t have time to think about beauty.” Solange Racine, 101 years old, Granby, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“My husband was a very good-looking man. He had beautiful curly hair, and was nicknamed Willy La Coche’, (Willy The Good-looker). It was very important for him to always be well-dressed. When he went out to work at the lumber camp, he’d sell his suit and buy a brand-new one when he returned. On the other hand, he was a flirt and a bit fickle: he loved all women and drank too much. But it’s important to be able to forgive.”
Anne-Marie Pronovost, 100 years old, Sutton, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“Of course I’d rather be good-looking rather than ugly! But back when I was young, I couldn’t be bothered with beauty. It was vanity. It was a sin. What really mattered was the family, putting food on the table, and making sure that the children were bathed and clothed. I am blessed because my daughter is the one now taking care of me. She welcomed me in her home 20 years ago and I am still there. Family is all that really matters.”
Isabelle Gagnon (left), 103 years old, with her daughter. Clermont, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“I’m a very rational and level-headed person, and I’m not very sensitive to beauty or art. I come from a very poor family. Spending money at the hairdresser’s or on unnecessary beauty accessories was completely out of the question. I only sewed by necessity. For instance, I made dresses for my sisters using cotton pouches that had been used for storing sugar. Still, I’ve always paid a particular attention to my hair.”
Alida Provost, 101 years old, Granby, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
“My father was a painter and craftsman and he shared his love of art with me. I believe that everything that is artistic is beautiful: theater, picture frames, poems, paintings, flowers, songs. In a person, it’s the character, the silhouette, the smile and the eyes that count. That said, my biggest regret is not getting an education. Doors open for you when you’re educated. Otherwise you feel shame. Regardless of the situation, I would advise young women to educate themselves.”
Marie-Berthe Paquette, 102 years old, Montreal, 2016. (Arianne Clément/GroundTruth)
I became interested in the efforts that these women put (or didn’t put) into looking beautiful, and the challenges that they face in their old age. I asked them about youth, aging, feminism, sexuality, charm, appearance, love, and I documented their beauty rituals.
Visiting Marie-Berthe, the woman in the first photograph, was an unbelievable spectacle. She likes to be the center of attention and is willing to do about everything to make her audience burst out laughing. Every time I visited her, she told me funny stories, sang and danced. In her portrait, she is dancing in a sexy and provocative way for the sake of her audience (myself and two family members).
To me, the third photo is particularly touching. Laure Provost, the centenarian in the picture, was very sick and weak but also very peaceful and serene. She didn’t have the energy to move or talk, and even though she used to be a very stylish woman, I doubt she cared about the way she looked anymore. But even though Laure seemed distanced from the physical world, her daughter, Lise, continued to make sure that her mother looked good: that her nails and hair were done and that she had jewelry and lipstick on. She knew this used to be important to her mother and wanted to honor her. Since they couldn’t communicate verbally anymore, these rituals were their way to stay close together.
Through these portraits, I want to questions society’s obsession with youth and beauty standards, and to give a voice to these women whose beauty is rarely acknowledged.
About the Photographer
While working as a journalist in the Canadian Arctic, Arianne Clément began dabbling in documentary photography. This experience inspired her to pursue a master’s degree in photojournalism at the University of the Arts of London, where she graduated with honors. During her numerous trips abroad, Arianne developed a photographic style that combines art, documentary and social awareness. She now focuses almost exclusively on senior citizens. Her work with the elderly has been exhibited internationally and has won many grants, prizes and awards.
