Jolie came face to face with the (free!) surgeon’s knife…but she said no
Friday, August 22nd, 2008
If there’s one thing We don’t like, it’s a judgmental person. (And people who use the Royal We. Oh God, We hate Ourselves!) Jolie believes in a Live and Let Live, To Each Their Own kind of Kumbaya universe, and feels that everybody has enough on their plate without worrying about their neighbor’s portions. So, I have very mixed feelings about plastic surgery. As you know, I work with two remarkable facial plastic surgeons in LA, and I love what they do, which is to say fixing the rhinoplasty eff-ups of other surgeons. In Beauty Confidential, I specifically set out my policy toward plastic surgery: life is too short to obsess over imperfections, so either learn to love ‘em, or fix ‘em and move on. I still feel this way.
Except, today marks one year since I’ve been living in Los Angeles, and, as so often happens in life, my views have changed without me realizing it. I used to automatically lean toward the “Hell, fix it!” end of the spectrum. Now, I pause.
I live in a city full of pneumatic bottle-blondes with pillowy lips and no hips…some genetically cultivated (thanks, Mom!), but most acquired through blood, sweat, and lots of money. When you wander by the OR on a daily basis and are the only A-cup with soft thighs in a five-mile radius, it’s hard not to think, “Well…maybe…” Why not a nip here? Or a tuck there? For me, the recent, and very real, proposition was even simpler: I know the anesthesiologist (who’s on her third surgery in what seems as many months), am chums with the Dr. 90210 surgeon, can get a free room at the after-care facility, will have the operating room fee comped, can get ample publicity for my book, be on TV again…and have thinner thighs, to boot! Everybody wins!
