“One word: plastics.” That was yet another career advice Benjamin Braddock received from a well-meaning adult in the 1967 movie “The Graduate”. Was this a “new product” with a huge future potential? Yes and no; the fact is, that plastic is not that new when we look at the true meaning of the word. But Benjamin could care less at the time, as he was busy being seduced by Mrs. Robinson – at least he had his priorities straight – (only kidding…)
Plastic, an adjective from around 1632, meaning “capable of being molded or modeled”, and we all go: “yeah, of course…” But we are still a bit surprised because we transmit that word to so many daily applications, not truly knowing what it really means; but now you do and you are welcome…
The surgical use of plastic, at the time consisting of synthetic or semi-synthetic organic solids that could be molded, was more or less initiated and performed by Alexander Parkes in London, 1862. Bigheaded Parkes named the product Parkesine, but luckily it evolved to plastic - I like plastic surgery, not Parkesine Surgery; doesn’t sound right. And in super-markets they would ask if you want your groceries bagged in Paper or Parkesine? Nah, doesn’t do it for me – but thanks for asking.
In the USA alone, millions of plastic surgeries are performed annually; Europe is the second biggest market. The vast majority of these surgeries are necessary to correct and/or restore form and functionality, but we easily forget these very important procedures. To most of us plastic surgery is spelled cosmetic improvement (well, improvement in most cases…) and there are about 60,000 in the mix of doctors, specialists, surgeons, etc. to help you out.
The world of cosmetic surgery is wild and crazy. We have Breast augmentation meaning boob-job; liposuction that will relieve you of excess fat really fast; rhinoplasty or nose-jobs; blepharoplasty is eyelid adjustments, abdominoplasty are for tummy tucks and a whole bunch of other tongue twisting names.
To be green and ecological, how about breast implants made from recycled plastic milk-containers. Imagine the irony when breast-feeding, huh? The use of whoopee cushions in buttock implants? Entertainment at its best. And the plastic jokes: After the boob-job she asked the surgeon if her scars would show. He calmly answered: “Only if you remove your clothes…” etc. You see, we do have a tendency to make fun, giggle and point fingers concerning all this “plastic surgery” stuff because we don’t know any better; we haven’t bothered. But for many it’s a rather serious situation beyond just trying to enhance appearance by aiming for that “perfect” look, whatever that is.
Body Dysmorphic Disorder is a type of mental illness dealing with an extreme obsession of one’s body image. I’m not stating that everybody who gets under the knife suffers from this, but it is unfortunately common to some degree or another. Now, you tell me where I fit in concerning this Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
I’m seriously not looking to get a boob-job or that whoopee cushion implant (however tempting), but I have contemplated having the several layers of Turkey-Chins removed (self-made word; feel free to use it), as they are flapping in the wind even when it’s not windy. At times, when I’m standing in front of the mirror, I pull these layers of excess chin-skin back, and it does improve my looks. I am not searching for “younger”, as I have no interest in that (been there – done that), just a nicer look and mostly for myself – really; and how lame is that again?
Back in life as it really is, I recognize that those thousands of Turkey-Chin dollars can be used for something more exciting – like a new roof, food or a trip to Australia. I’m actually okay with the way I look, and though I can certainly see where adjustments would make me look more pleasing, I’m fine the way I am. So instead of going under the knife, I exercise 4-5 times weekly, walk the dog twice daily, bike and try to eat healthy (lots of ice cream is an important food group, isn’t it? If not, it should be). Maybe it doesn’t make me look any better, but it surely makes me feel great; I can rest my case and will keep my face.
But I do respect people who want to enhance their looks by the way of cosmetic surgery. If a new set of boobs will make them happier, more self-confident without any side-effects, that be emotionally, mentally or physically, I’m all for it; but what a big decision it is to cut or not to cut. There must be tough moments of doubt and indecision. As an innocent bystander I wonder what else might be going on, why this dramatic move as any surgery is, correctional as well as cosmetically; the first being a necessity, the second not - in most cases.
We are consistently bombarded with images of perfection; the perfect body, the whitest teeth, correct muscle tone and the list is long. We are told what is beautiful and handsome through TV (TeleVision, not TransVestites), movies, magazines, etc. So we mold what we conceive to be perfection and compare that with what we see in the mirror and then we, to some extent, apply what can be applied without the plastic, because we all want to look our best – we really do.
As long as we remember where this extreme image perfection comes from, we can more clearly see our bigger picture, and then hopefully giggle a bit in the process; and maybe we will opt for cosmetic surgery to make us real happy; the options are there - it’s deciding “yes” or “no” that's the tough one.
I like looking at people everywhere. As far as I know, it’s not related to any form of perversion; it’s basic human curiosity. So if you can do it without drooling excessively, you will not be arrested. I think all people are great looking, because when we really look, we see that we all have some superb sides, that being a smile, laughter, or the way we walk, talk or simply how we overall project ourselves; don’t you agree?
So when people are seeking cosmetic enhancement for no medical reasons, I am still a bit confused. Sure it’s nice to look (near) perfect, but if that perfection comes with risks of imperfections in mental or emotional side-effects, that is a very high price to pay.
We make fun, giggle and point fingers because we lack information about what is emotionally invested in deciding the use of plastic surgery as a tool to enhance appearance; but we really shouldn’t. Being more respectful would be nicer, as it is a tough choice to make for the persons who want to go down that road. They certainly have my respect.
The Turkey-Chins will stay in place and no doubt grow bigger as I grow older, and I will probably never do anything about it. But I must admit that the whoopee cushion butt implants sounds fun (get it?) and therefor rather tempting – I’ll think about it and let you know…
Until next Monday: be good
(I wonder if Benjamin ended up as a plastic surgeon – does anybody know?)
COMING SOON:
LIFE AS IT REALLY IS
first year of blogging
200 page paperback with all 52+ posts from my first year as a BlogHead
WANT TO FOLLOW THIS BLOG?
SIGN UP FOR NOTIFICATIONS USING ANY OF THE OPTIONS
LISTED TO YOUR RIGHT.
FOR THOSE OF YOU ALREADY
FOLLOWING:
THANK YOU SO MUCH
No comments:
Post a Comment