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My small breasts don’t bother me. In fact, I love them. But I didn’t always feel that way. I grew up at a time when people said, “Real women have curves.” But I didn’t have curves. Did that mean I wasn’t a real woman? I couldn’t look up to models, either, because they were tall and waifish. I’m short, and I’ve always had a soft belly. So in high school, in an effort to be a “real” woman, I started wearing padded bras.
When you’re a teenager, you take cues from your environment to find the metrics of how a culture measures a woman’s worth. And I saw billboards, magazines, TV shows that all equated breasts with beauty. So learning to be proud of my flat chest, to stop wearing padded bras — it was a real milestone for me. Now I love how small breasts look in certain clothes. I’m a long-distance runner, and I love how it helps my athleticism. Of course curvy women are real women. But small, short women are real, too. In fact, there is no part of your anatomy, be it breasts or genitalia, that makes you a real woman. Trans women are real women. Being a woman is something you know in your soul, not something [dictated by] your body type.
There are so many other ways, besides body type, to create your self-worth. Kindness, intelligence, wit, talent — this list goes on. I think that’s why, as teens, we try on different archetypal personalities to see what fits: the jock, the goth, the prom queen. It’s also where we find community. The people who shared my spirit were always the theater kids. The theater community was where you often met gay people, other people of color, people who weren’t trying to fit in but instead were interested in what made you different. So that’s how I found where I belonged. It’s probably why I ended up pursuing acting as my profession.
When I was in Singapore and Malaysia filming Crazy Rich Asians this past summer, I’d go into skin-care stores, and there would be all these skin-whitening products. The salesgirls would push whitening products on me and try to fade my freckles. This comes from an old Asian cultural idea that dark skin signifies being in the fields and working-class. But I’m an American, and Americans are proud of our working-class roots. It signifies our heritage, and that’s not something to hide. I’m not a white translucent tulip. I’m the granddaughter of Chinese bamboo farmers, the daughter of immigrants, the sister of an ultramarathoner (who runs for hours...in the sun!), and an American. I like my freckles and my natural skin color. It’s who I am.
Beauty Corner
Matte vs. Dewy: “I don’t like how my skin looks when it’s powdered. I prefer dewy skin over matte.”
Wu's favorite base: Giorgio Armani Luminous Silk Foundation
Wu's favorite makeup look: I have a jar of lipsticks that makeup artists give me, so when I want to have fun with makeup, I’ll do a pop of color on the lips.
Hair maintenance: "My hair is thick and coarse,” says Wu, who has her ends trimmed at Rudy’s barber shop in Silverlake, California.
Fashion stylist, Santa Bevacqua. Hair: Amber Duarte. Makeup: Amy Strozzi.
A version of this article originally appeared in the November 2017 issue of Allure. To get your copy, head to newsstands or subscribe now.
For more on diversity:
- Constance Wu Opens Up About Asian Stereotypes in Hollywood
- 41 Women of Color Get REAL About Beauty and Diversity
- Are We Really Doing This Whole Asian Cultural Appropriation Fashion Trend Again?
Glamour's Fresh Off the Boat’s Constance Wu Plays American Dream or Scream
