We need to change the way we discuss plastic surgery
Kofi Mframa, Opinions Editor
If you look at an image of me now versus one taken in, let’s say, 2018, you’ll notice a huge difference. I look a tad bit different, not because I’ve aged since then — as humans do — but because of the minimal yet effective plastic surgery procedures I’ve had done.
Since 2018, I’ve had a breast augmentation, breast implant removals, a breast lift, a Brazilian butt lift — or BBL, chin, cheek and jaw reshaping, dermabrasion, an eyelid lift, a facelift, a forehead lift, hair replacement or transplantation, lip augmentation, liposuction, a lower body lift, a rhinoplasty, a thigh lift, a tummy tuck, an upper arm lift, botox injections, cellulite treatment, a chemical peel, facial rejuvenation, laser skin resurfacing, laser treatment of leg veins, buccal fat removal and, of course, vaginal rejuvenation.
If you couldn’t tell by now, I’m joking. But our culture’s obsession with plastic surgery is certainly worthy of note. To criticize someone for getting plastic surgery, or to criticize the industry and the context surrounding it, is seen as denying someone their autonomy. The “live and let live” sentiment is commonplace in these discussions.
This thought process, however, perpetuates the fallacy that one’s choices exist in a vacuum — that one’s desire to change their appearance comes sans wider cultural influence.
83% of women and 74% of men report being dissatisfied with their appearance, according to a study done by Ipsos. Almost two thirds of parents report their child is insecure about some aspect of their appearance, while one in five say their teen avoided certain situations, like being photographed, because they feel too self-conscious, according to the C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital National Poll on Children’s Health at University of Michigan Health.
Beauty is a social currency, those who are rich in it are given more social mobility than those without. There’s an inherent value that comes with being beautiful and the pedestal on which we place attentiveness has tangible effects. Based on attractiveness, we make judgments of academic ability, occupational ability and social skills. The preferential treatment of attractive people often increases their higher quality of life, according to a Smith College study.
Most people would label this phenomenon as “pretty privilege,” but I think that’s lazy given how our societal understanding of beauty is dependent on one’s proximity to certain strictures like whiteness, thinness, etc., etc.
With an understanding of the politics of beauty, we can see how plastic surgery is less an act of personal autonomy and more an act of assimilation to a culture that values beauty so ardently.
Nevertheless, it is still marketed as the former.
Celebrity plastic surgeon Michael Salzhauer, known colloquially as Dr. Miami, has over 2.5 million followers on Tik Tok. His understanding of the Tik Tok, Generation Z lexicon has allowed him to successfully garner a large following. He’s funny and relatable. He understands the insecurities of internet youth and sells them the cure.
The problem with this cure is that it acts as a means to an end — that if you get these procedures you’ll finally be satisfied with who you are. However, in a society where beauty standards are ever-shifting, these ends are never finite.
There will always be a new flaw, a new insecurity bred by our society’s obsession with a better body. Though people should have autonomy to do whatever they want with their bodies, we can’t ignore that we have been conditioned into insecurity and self-hatred.
The villain here isn’t the person receiving the procedure, nor is it the surgeon wielding the knife — it’s a culture that conditions us to believe there is fault in the way our bodies are naturally.