I don’t judge anyone who wants to improve their appearance. I mean, who doesn’t?
But as a society, I think we’ve gone far enough with the obsession to make plastic into perfect.
I hope I don’t probably sound snarky about it—still, I should say right up front: after my own experiences with breast and skin cancer—-I don’t want any surgery I don’t need. In 2010 that means I’m swimming upstream– but lately there are signs from the stars, pointing towards the pendulum swinging back–
Kate Hudson started a tempest in a B-cup—scrutinized and criticized for getting breast implants—notably by supermodel Paulina Porizkova, who claims to be more accepting of her own saddlebags and cellulite.
Meanwhile Sharon Osborne plans to remove her implants and give them to Ozzie as paperweights.
Don’t even get me started on Heidi Montag.
Most encouraging, the New York Times reports that Hollywood casting directors are rejecting actresses with breast implants, fish-lips or immovable faces-— in favor of those who look less cookie-cutter and more “real.”
I’d like to believe it’s a Botox backlash– but I’m not so sure this “trend” will prove any more real than “reality” television. Our standards of beauty have altered as much as the faces and bodies of people who alter them. Plastic surgery has become pervasive across all generations—and it could take generations for any return to the “natural” look.
My major gripe is the message we’re sending—-insidious insecurity invading every age group— girls at ridiculously young ages already obsessing over their ability to attract; young moms worrying about getting their bodies back before getting the baby home from the hospital. No one seems immune—even those older and supposedly wise enough to know better.
Though I feel committed to age “naturally’, it’s not so easy to hold off on artificial alterations while around me people are getting lipoed, injected, scraped and stitched. It’s a moment of truth we all face every day, every time we look in the mirror.
Do we or don’t we?
I have my moments— when I look in the mirror and want to call a plastic surgeon’s emergency hotline; times when I’ve tilted over the edge, almost crossing over to the dark side.
So far I’ve watched the lines on my face—and held the line. Although sometimes I wonder if I’ll be the last woman standing to document what aging looks like.
Thanks to high definition TV and websites devoted to celebrity cosmetic surgery disasters, people like Jane Fonda are starting to admit having work done. Still, you don’t find many role models out there for aging gracefully.
Then—the other night I saw a sliver of light at the end of the scalpel, in a movie no one else seems to be seeing, (The Joneses). It was almost shocking to see a female face on a movie screen that wasn’t altered by fillers or filters.
I don’t mean Demi Moore, the star of the film—(if Demi is what 47 looks like, we’re all in trouble). No, I’m talking about another actress in the film who is 20 years older than Demi Moore, and looks it.
And this isn’t just any woman; this is Lauren Hutton— the woman who defined beauty for my generation. In the movie she’s as elegant and willowy as ever, playing a sophisticated and successful businesswoman, managing to redefine beauty in a new and beautiful way.
She looks like a real woman of 67 would look…. if she aged for real. Assuming she started out looking gorgeous in the first place.
I’m doubtful even an icon can break other women out of the Botox box. Unless or until we reach a tipping point, I thank Lauren Hutton for once again defining beauty for our generation —-a supermodel who is a super model for the rest of us.
Darryle, A few years ago, I had my eyelids lifted because they were affecting my vision. Now, I can’t tell anything was done because that would require an eyebrow lift! For two weeks, my daughter was scared to look at me. I vowed after that never to have anything done unless it was absolutely necessary. Not that I like the way my neck looks. Hopefully, along with the increase of normal size models, aging will become more acceptable.
Darryle, your timing on this subject is impeccable, as I just returned from San Miguel de Allende, MX, and am still reeling from the over-exposure. Not from the hot sun, or the curled up elderly women on the sidewalks with their hand out, or the endless junk stores, but all the American women who have had the work done. “Does she or doesn’t she” became the question, everywhere I turned. It’s quite inexpensive to have it done there, but these gals, all around our age (baby boomers), started to look a little goulish–I was in a Fellini movie. I ended my trip by looking up a very neat woman I met there 10 years ago. She had been out of town and I just caught her in time…fresh from the surgery! Black and blue eyes, bloody stitches along her forehead and ears, her sweet little face pulled back like a shiny little elf. I couldn’t have topped this trip off any better. I was convinced that this surgery is a prerequisite to living in San Miquel.
A final note: my own darling mother, who also couldn’t see out from under her drooping lids at 50-something, STILL regrets the work after 30 years. At 82, her eyes still glare out angrily from under her brow (and sadly, does not look quite herself nor photograph well at all)!
P.S. Let’s not forget beautiful Jessica Tandy!
Hope you’re right—and I think we have a secret weapon suddenly to help aging become more acceptable—named Betty White.
Thanks for sharing your story.
OMG thanks for the warning! I’ll be sure NOT to go to San Miguel de Allende on my next vacation.
Someone else sent me a note mentioning JEssica Tandy—who always was in a class by herself.
Brava Lauren Hutton. Brava YOU.
Brava to her. I’d hold off on me until I get to her age. But thank u!