Okay, so I’m reading this book by one of the cast members of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Brandi Glanville. In one chapter she details her experience with a plastic surgery procedure called vaginal rejuvenation. This procedure is, as far as I can tell (she doesn’t go into extensive detail, thank goodness), just as horrifying as it sounds. The idea of having a knife/scalpel/laser taken to one’s hoo-ha* is pretty horrible to even think about. It doesn’t help that Glanville’s recovery from surgery was apparently incredibly painful. She seems to have no regrets (and she had deeper reasons for the surgery that had more to do with psychological issues surrounding her divorce rather than simply a desire to tighten her lady-parts), but personally I can’t imagine doing something so drastic for any reason.
*Important medical term
It’s not like I’ve never thought, in passing, about plastic surgery – I think many of us, especially women, do contemplate the idea as we get older. When I was younger, though I was far from perfect, the only imperfection I wanted to really change was my small mouth, and it didn’t seem like cosmetic surgery could do much about that. (I know you can get your lips plumped, but thin lips and a small mouth are not the same thing, and I’ve seen too many hideous celebrity “trout pouts” to find the idea even remotely appealing.) Now that I’m older, sure, I’d love to lift this or tighten that (though not that-that! Ew!). I’m held back chiefly by my fear of pain and secondarily by my fear of death.
I’m a big baby about pain. I’ve been known to cry over a burned finger and pout over a stubbed toe. So the idea of undergoing the knife for elective surgery and enduring whatever recovery is required, essentially because of my vanity – that’s a no go. Furthermore, though I am sure most common procedures are perfectly safe (though medical negligence claims account for the majority of lawsuits, according to Irwin Mitchell ), there are always those freak instances of someone dying on the operating table or shortly afterwards (Kanye West’s mother is one famous example), and “dying while getting my boobs lifted” is just behind “dying because I ran into traffic to avoid a butterfly**” on my “stupid ways I’d rather not die” list.
**Butterflies are scary, yo. All that…fluttering.
Another consideration is the cost; I’m not cheap but neither is plastic surgery, and all in all, I can think of many things I’d rather spend my imaginary thousands on.
But I am still vain. Who isn’t? (You say you aren’t? Liar. Also, I hate you. I mean, not really, but try not being such a goody-goody, okay? It’s kind of sickening.) I do know that true beauty comes from within (metaphorically; literally speaking, your pancreas ain’t cute), and also that confidence is one of the most attractive qualities a man or woman can possess (and I mean true confidence here, not the fake-bravado kind). But how to get it? I sort of divide self-help tips into the obvious (eat healthy, drink water, get enough sleep) that we all know and struggle to live by and the more questionable (some might say exotic) practices. I was just reading about yoga for your face. I wonder if I would find it as difficult as I find yoga for my body (limber I am not). I also recently read about “cupping”, in which heated suction cups are attached to the face and body, supposedly to promote healing but also to encourage the production of collagen for a more youthful appearance. I’m not entirely opposed to the idea, but…what else you got? I do want to try microdermabrasion at some point, if only because the idea of having tiny diamonds sandblast my face sounds delightfully self-indulgent. (“What? You use Noxzema? Oh, dahling, I use ground-up diamonds to clean my face!”)
Of course, there’s also good, old-fashioned retail therapy. A good (probably expensive) well-fitted bra can make such a difference in one’s appearance. Expensive (or not) creams can at least give us the illusion that we’re taking good care of our skin. All I really need for a shot of confidence is a new top that is long enough to cover my butt but still cute and not muu-muu-ish (if I had my druthers, sweater coats would *always* be in style).
What about you? What therapies or treatments do you indulge in to give you a confidence boost and make you feel good about yourself?
Jennie has contributed to Imperfect Women since its inception in 2009. She writes about politics, celebrity news, and anything else that catches her interest.