Beauty is one of the most natural and lovely things … money can buy. Apparently, the secret ingredient in Kate Beckinsale’s thousand-dollar wonder facial is crushed foreskins harvested from circumcisions. So, I have two questions before forking out for this treatment. 1) If I rub my face, will
I get big-headed? 2) Does this finally explain why so many Hollywood stars are complete dickheads?
But it’s not just facial furrows I must fret over. A girlfriend has just given me a “cleavage bra”. This “sleep and glow pillow bra”, which has the erotic appeal of an orthopaedic shoe, is basically a huge pad which you insert between your breasts at night to prevent chest wrinkles. Women are enduring this discomfort to make themselves more attractive, but one glimpse sent my boyfriend screaming to the nearest monastery to take a vow of celibacy.
‘It’s getting difficult to find a bit of my body that isn’t under scrutiny as an area of concern. I’m floored by the number of flaws a female must fix.’Credit:iStock/Getty Images
And anyway, who has time to pine over lines when there’s so much else to worry about? Apparently, I need fillers for my crinkles (cleavage wrinkles) and injections for my kinkles (knee wrinkles). I need exercises to prevent cankles (thick ankles) and surgery on my waddles (neck fat). Not to forget the desperate need for a Brazilian “butt lift” to create that Kardashian silhouette.
Yep, having dieted for years to stay slim and trim, a peachy rear is now de rigueur. As is the trout pout. This procedure involves taking fat from your now peachy bottom and injecting it into your lips, so that you’ll be literally talking out of your arse. Which explains a lot about the Kardashians.
My son just called himself the “wind beneath my bingo wings”. Really? I checked the mirror.
Yep, definite signs of wobblage. So, yet another thing to worry about. Surgery can trim the troublesome upper arm flab, but surely I should also slice off some upper leg, to create the all-important “thigh gap”?
Then, once all the agonising surgery scars have healed, I’ll have to zap my entire body with skin-resurfacing lasers to burn off age-betraying spots. (What beauticians call “dermabrasion” most of us know by its original term: medieval torture.)
Oh, and then there’s labiaplasty, the expense of which gives a very literal meaning to “paying lip service”. I can even opt for a “Barbie”, which involves amputation of the labia minora, resulting in a smooth, flawless “clamshell” appearance. (According to the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons, this is the fastest-growing cosmetic operation in the world.) After tightening and whitening my nether regions, I must then deforest the whole area, before “vajazzling” with Swarovski crystals.
But I like my pubic hair. It’s like having a little pet in my pants. Bring back bush, don’t you think, girls? I prefer a man who appreciates a little light bushwalking.
It’s getting difficult to find a bit of my body that isn’t under scrutiny as an area of concern. My elbow? A little toe? I’m floored by the number of flaws a female must fix. What’s next? Nose lengthening? Forehead shortening? Maybe I need to get my chin hairs permed for a more pleasing effect? What about lip thinning? (Although that’s happening naturally as I mull over the fact that it’s not women but society that needs the makeover.)
A recent Plan International UK survey revealed that 89 per cent of girls aged between 14 and 21 felt pressure to fit an “ideal” face and body type, and 25 per cent felt “ashamed or disgusted” by their body. Is it any bloody wonder?
Clearly, the only plastic surgery we should all have is cutting up the plastic credit cards we were going to use to pay for that pointless pain.
This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale November 24.
Source: Read Full Article