It’s Time to Rethink the Cosmetic Surgery Industry
It’s 2011, and I’m a couple months from my 18th birthday. I catch my reflection in the mirror and do what I’ve done almost every day for the past 7 years: tousle my hair to make sure it’s covering my ears. Most of my friends are asking for cars or trips or tickets to see Katy Perry for their 18th birthday, but I’m aiming higher. I want cosmetic surgery. It’s been a teenage dream to enter adulthood more confident and self-assured, so I make an appointment at a nearby cosmetic surgeon’s office and hope for the best.
The cosmetic surgeon is knowledgeable and kind. He takes pictures of me with my hair pulled back and assures me I’m the ideal candidate. I watch as he manipulates my pictures into the perfect before and after, and we chit chat about how much this surgery is going to transform my sense of self.
It doesn’t matter that no one in my life thinks I need to get my ears pinned back. It doesn’t matter that it’s a long recovery and could affect my ability to cheer the remainder of my senior year. I’ve convinced my friends and family that this is the only thing standing between me and unbridled confidence, but secretly, I’ve plotted out my next three cosmetic procedures. It may cost a lot of money and time along the way, but if it finally makes me feel pretty enough, why wouldn’t I do it?
As a 90s baby, I grew up in the era of low-rise jeans, fad diets, and fat shaming. By the time I hit middle school, the internet had taken center stage, pushing an already unrealistic beauty standard past the extreme. Like rats in a lab, we became the test generation for how cell phones, social media, and increased access to pornography radically transformed our understanding of female beauty. Instead of encountering the “ideal woman” through the occasional magazine or movie, we now saw her almost every time we hopped online. With the simultaneous rise of the cosmetic surgery industry and the invention of photo editing software, many young women, myself included, started to wonder: Is it within my power to become that girl?
The concept of the “ideal woman” is nothing new. All throughout history, civilizations have found different ways to define who and what they deem beautiful. Long before photoshop and filters, there was the golden ratio and goddess worship. What is unique to the 21st century is our ability to transform ourselves into the ideal woman through modern-day technology. The cosmetic surgery industry alone brought in over 53 billion dollars globally in 2021 and is only expected to grow in the coming years. Not only are more celebrities and influencers choosing to go under the knife, but less invasive procedures, like Botox and fillers, are becoming more accessible and affordable. Fifteen years ago, cosmetic surgery was reserved for the wealthy and the elite; now, the average woman can look in the mirror and dream.
As someone who almost went through with cosmetic surgery, I’ll always hold compassion and understanding for women who contribute to this industry. I’ve also spent the past five years working alongside teenage girls and have observed firsthand how this movement is negatively impacting their mental health and self-confidence. As our technology continues advancing at a rapid pace, the time seems ripe to slow down and ask some important questions: How has the cosmetic surgery movement changed our culture’s definition of beauty? Is this movement pointing young women toward a healthier, more freeing view of femininity, and if not, how can we shift the narrative?
Restorative vs. Recreational
Unbeknownst to many, the cosmetic surgery movement was forged from unusual circumstances. During the war-torn 1900s, a multitude of soldiers lucky enough to survive combat were left with severe disfigurations. In response to such a large-scale tragedy, various doctors from all over the world found new and innovative ways to restore veterans’ dignity through cosmetic surgery. The rapid advancements in reconstructive surgeries eventually paved the way for the founding of the American Board of Plastic Surgery in the 1930s, and by the 1950s, plastic surgery had become more integrated into the medical community.
When it comes to evaluating the ethics of this movement, it’s important to distinguish between restorative and recreational plastic surgery. Restorative plastic surgery is a creative and necessary response to human suffering. Whether it’s a disfigured war veteran or breast cancer survivor, restorative plastic surgery is a modern-day miracle. While restorative plastic surgery is redemptive in nature, recreational plastic surgery often perpetuates an unhealthy beauty standard. As we’ve enshrined influencers like the Kardashians who tout their recreational cosmetic surgery, more women than ever are feeling pressured to go under the knife.
Research conducted over the past few years confirms that women who spend more time on social media are more likely to pursue recreational cosmetic surgery. Dubbed the “Instagram face,” women now seek out a specific set of features to feel beautiful: high cheekbones, flawless skin, plump lips, big eyes, full lashes, and a button nose. In a 2021 interview with Forbes, child psychologist Dr. Helen Edgar said the following: “[The conflation of diversity into a single look] doesn’t support individuality, it supports conformity with the beauty standard.”
The popularity of TikTok has only increased the normalization of cosmetic surgery in recent years. TikTok hashtags like #nosejobcheck and #sideprofilecheck, where young women show off their cosmetic surgery and ideal side profiles, have individually generated billions of views. Unsurprisingly, these videos trigger mixed reactions from the public.
Feminist or not?
If the stats continually affirm the negative impact of this movement, why do so many women continue to conform? In a culture that screams self-love, it’s perplexing to see the rise of an industry that profits off self-hate. I’d argue American individualism is one of the hidden forces fueling the success of this movement. As professor and cultural commentator Patrick Deneen notes in his recent book, Americans are conditioned to prioritize their individual preferences over what’s best for their community. While ancient philosophers and ethicists defined liberty as the freedom to become a virtuous person, Americans define liberty as the freedom to do whatever makes us happy, regardless of the larger ethical implications of our actions.
When I inevitably broach this subject with women, I consistently hear the same response: “I would never get cosmetic surgery, but power to those who do.” The idea behind a statement like this is that our individual choices only affect us, when in reality, how we each define and seek beauty contributes to the larger narrative passed down to the next generation of women. We may have the freedom to pursue all the Botox, filler, and cosmetic surgery we want. But for those of us who are opting in, we have to wrestle with what our individual choices are communicating to the women around us. If the way we’re using our freedom is perpetuating a male-centric, homogenous view of beauty, how free are we really?
I turn 30 this month. I look in the mirror and see little wrinkles starting to form around my eyes. The lines on my forehead are more pronounced than they used to be. I could Botox them away, or I could see them as a tribute to the emotion I’ve experienced over the past three decades. 30 years of smiling and laughing and crying and being. I look at my nose, and it’s not as small as I want it to be. It’s not the tiny white girl button nose that’s gone viral online. I could pay to fix it, or I could see it as a part of my heritage. I have my grandma’s nose. She’s 100% Polish and will be 85 next month. When she passes, I’ll wear it proudly, a living memorial to the life she lived and the history she carried. I pull my hair back and look at my ears. They still bother me more than I’d like. But then I think about having a daughter someday. What if she gets my ears? How can I encourage her to grow in confidence if I alter the very feature that bonds us?
It’s slow and hard work turning the cultural tide. It won’t happen overnight and will require both conviction and courage along the way. But the good news is it can start with us. As we go about our days and contemplate our self-worth, may we resolve to leave the next generation of women more confident than we found them.
