Disturbing Trends: Plastic Surgery Books and Television
Okay, first there was the Plastic Surgery Book for Kids – explaining why Mommy has a nose job and is now BEAUTIFUL (as opposed to pre-op Mommy, who looked like an Ugly Stepsister crossed with Pinocchio). Now, there’s a reality show called Bridalplasty, where women compete for plastic surgery for their wedding day. Because nothing says “I do!” like butt implants.
SERIOUSLY, America? At the risk of sounding like I have a microscopic vocabulary, what the crap? This brings to mind several things. Several terrible truths.
- We are a nation of vain idiots. If you are getting married, your significant other loves you for you. That doesn’t mean you need cheek implants. LOVE YOURSELF. (Heidi Montaq, I’m looking at you.)
- The idea of self-confidence gone has been replaced with quick fixes and low self-esteem. To me, this show screams insecurity. It seems to decry the idea that you don’t have to love your calves. You don’t have to exercise, either, to make them more shapely. Just let someone implant silicone—and voila! You’re Johnny Chase from Entourage (who, hilariously, thought his calves were too small).
- We have no shame. Competing on television, against other women, for the chance to nip and tuck, polish, and liposuction away flaws doesn’t demonstrate or encourage self-respect. It says, I want my fifteen minutes of fame—and I’m not afraid of embarrassing myself on a national broadcast. Remember the days where game shows reigned supreme, and people only competed to win MONEY and PRIZES? Apparently, lip implants are now on par with a refrigerator.
What is America’s youth supposed to take away from all this malarkey? Exercise is for suckers? Don’t work with what you have—change it? You shouldn’t love your flaws? It totally boggles my mind, especially in today’s world where eating disorders are so prevalent – even those that go unnoticed, untreated, and undiagnosed. For every person who seeks treatment for an eating disorder, I’d bet my coffee that there are many who still remain in the shadows.
On television, I’ve also noticed a very scary push for this One Hour Facelift. No anesthesia. Back to your everyday routine quickly! It sounds like something you’d see on The Jetsons—if it took place in the Twilight Zone (The Eye of the Beholder, anyone?).
I’m not someone who is wholly against plastic surgery. If someone wants to get a nose job, fine. That’s a personal choice. Granted, I do think it’s a slippery slope, and I’m bothered when someone stops resembling themselves. But what I’m most against is the idea that someone is not okay as he/she is. That it is seemingly okay to compete for a chance to be “perfect.” Perfection doesn’t exist. (Remember that statistic about Barbie? If she were a real person, she wouldn’t be able to walk upright. Her breast would make it impossible.)
Me? I want to age gracefully. I don’t want to compete against other women in order to change myself. Honestly, I want to sit those women down and talk them out of the craziness. No one is perfect. NO ONE.