Now, before someone starts turning defensive, allow me defensive. This is not an essay on why I am categorically against cosmetic surgeries. I'm as good as the next gal if a certain person feels so bad about her neck which she did not leave the House, or if another is so pesada-p?rpado that ever blinks loses half of the image. Plastic surgeons have done wonderful things.
About the proliferation of small cosmetic procedures? The dentist offers to make is in the vicinity of the mouth of anyway? The injections of fillers to plump lips, wrinkles smooth, fill in the lines of laughter? At this point, is a wonder that the salesclerk at Barneys is not offering to shoot your face while you're trying on hats.
Once again, I am not against it. Well, maybe Botox. I am that ask for a complaint when my friends were tottering on the verge of succumbing to the needle. I would like to say, who wants to inject a venom so lethal that it paralyzes nerves, sending small muscles will atrophy?
I am not categorically against a hand, if it has finesse. My current rule, when faced with an improved face, is if I wonder vaguely that if there's work, the alteration was well done. But these days, I wonder why, why you do it?
We have gone too far. I'm getting very, very scared.
We have reached a stage where plastic surgery is so easily available in certain circles expected of men and women to avail themselves of these age-deniers. (You can call them power-ups of youth when you are no longer young.) If you choose not to participate in the benefits of the needle and knife, they are judged to make a statement. It is taking a position against the current standards of beauty.
We have activated the foreign body dysmorphia, collective, late onset. What is worse is that our concerns about the aging filter in our children's generation, so the mantra about cosmetic procedures including among some 30 years is "intervention early and often".
I began to worry about all this a year ago, when I was on a book tour. I love to read out loud and see the faces of people who are listening to. Deeply within weeks, he was in touch with my inner ham. Sometimes, I found exhausted a response. It would be at the hearing, hearing laughter and whispers, but seeing only aft masks. Even then, these same faces could be telling me how much had loved my presentation. It took a while to give account of which people had problems to express emotion in their functions.
This is also when I started to develop the problem of "who are you?".
Many people have had procedures that have been missed. They look strange and tragic. Is this inevitable? You do one thing, the effects are beginning to fade, you make another and so on. You will get swollen. You will get hard. Or move. And I wonder. Has he said no one "stop"? Has no one, especially the one with the needle, gently advised against further work? It used to be an unusual vision for inks of cosmetic surgery addicts, but it is surprisingly common.
We are now in the position of watching politicians and presenters speak of disturbing issues - as, let's say our system of education, or the degradation State environmental, but that may not meet the signs of concern, much less dismay.
One afternoon, I get a segment on the television on nuclear disarmament. A spokesman for celebrity makes a case for the establishment of weapons, and part of my brain in motion click: she is intelligent and passionate. But another part of me is distracted, because the image does not match the message. The front no wrinkles with concern; No crinkling her cheeks with smiles; his eyes not narrowing suspicion in trick questions. In fact, no matter what he says, his face is frozen in place. It's fascinating grotesquely - and undermining. Before meeting her, the interview is long. The medium was the message.
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