For me, the measure of personal vanity hangs on whether someone is brave, stupid or desperate enough to have needles (nasty, sharp, bruising needles!) plunged into their face? A friend once had "work" done and said it was akin to paying good money to be stung by a giant steel bee. She didn't even like the effect – it was the fashionable "pillow face", popularised by celebrities who think it makes their faces look discreetly plumper, collagen-enriched, younger – but usually just makes them look pillow-faced.
This is the great con. The aim is "youthful" and "natural", but often all you end up representing is the derma filler. You become Restylane Girl. Perlane Lady. A walking billboard for procedures that other people are still deciding whether they're brave, stupid or desperate enough to undergo. "Does that look good on her – good enough for me to want a needle stuck in my face?" And some might say, oh blah, what's new, it is what it is. Except of course when it isn't.
Baaps (the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons) reckons that injectable fillers could be the next big cosmetic surgery scandal, to rival PIP, where 50,000 British women were given breast implants made of industrial-grade, rather than medical-grade, silicone. Baaps is not the first to point out that fillers in the UK are completely unregulated: fillers, some of which are banned in the States, are being bought straight from the internet. Barely trained practitioners are operating from high street beauty salons, hairdressers and manicurists. People are injecting themselves in their own bathrooms.
Baaps believes that fillers should be classified as a drug (agreed) and only administered by a doctor. Hmm. A cynic might ask: why only doctors and not, say, qualified nurses who, after all, perform the majority of injections?
One is also confused by Baaps' concern about the effect advertising has on vulnerable people seeking treatments for "psychological reasons". Well, aren't we all? With the exception of burns victims, mastectomy patients and others with specific medical needs, isn't the entire industry built on "psychological reasons"? More pressingly, something is niggling about this pat comparison with PIP.
Yes, in both instances, dire lack of regulation is key, but surely the similarities end there? While issues with fillers mainly rest on people not seeking adequate medical advice, a key factor of PIP was that the victims did everything by the rule book, for all the good it did them. Indeed, one of the most disgraceful aspects of PIP was how, by simply desiring larger breasts, the women were routinely judged to have "brought it on themselves". In truth, all of the women were assured by professionals that their implants were safe and proceeded in good faith, with the appropriate medical input. What more could they do?
Unless someone wanted to judge their initial desire for augmentation, in terms of contributing to their plight, the PIP victims score a resounding blameless nil. It was simply not their fault that they were given implants made of a substance usually reserved for mattress stuffing.
If the PIP scandal has any similarities to any looming filler scandal, then it is also markedly different. To lump these women in, even fleetingly, with the sort of reckless souls who think it's fine to get their faces injected by their hairdresser is farcical.
What I would say to the latter group is – are you barking? Your faces, and long-term general health, have to be worth more than this? What I would say to the PIP victims is, keep demanding treatment and justice, for you have done nothing wrong. What I would say to Baaps is that in PIP, we have a recent scandal where all was done appropriately, with medical supervision and surgical expertise in place, and look what happened? Perhaps you should think twice before reminding people about it.
Try not changing for a change, Gaga
Lady Gaga has caused controversy by appearing to be not quite so thin. Or, to employ the passive-aggressive hate speak du jour, she is now "curvier".
However, there was some confusion. In some pictures, Gaga looked pretty normal; in others, especially ones taken onstage, she resembled at least three pit-bull terriers with lipstick on. The words "photo" and shop" would spring to mind, but I just can't believe that any media outlet would doctor photos of Gaga just to make her look ridiculous. What is that you say? Oh I see…
Even more controversially, Gaga smoked a spliff onstage in Amsterdam. Sporting an outfit comprising a cannabis leaf T-shirt, ripped fishnets and a hairstyle straight out of soft rock central casting, Gaga raved about the "wondrous" drug and how smoking it was a "spiritual experience". Yeah, baby.
This is what I'd term a classic case of Fame Fatigue. Gaga has been ultra famous for so long, and in such an exhausting, overdone way – in the time it takes you to read this, she would have restyled 20 times – that she is now malfunctioning. Gaga needs to learn to pace herself, like others who stay the course in the international music scene. More than anything, she needs to release herself from the grinding tyranny of endless costume changes.
Neil Young hasn't changed his jeans in about four decades, but he's revered as a musical great the world over. Compare this to poor Gaga, running around frazzled, trying to think up another "all you can eat buffet" outfit. (Steaks, lobsters – what's next, potato salad?) So chill, Gaga, and stop being such a wardrobe whore. If she weren't so desperate trying to think up her next outfit, then she probably wouldn't need a crafty joint onstage.
King is a shining example, but is this sequel wise?
Novelist Stephen King has announced that there's going to be a sequel to The Shining, entitled Dr Sleep, which features Danny, the psychic kid on the tricycle, all grown up and messing about with vampires.
At present, King is one of the very few cool famous people on the planet. A brilliant writer, you barely ever hear from him, and when you do, he's hollering about how he and other multimillionaires should pay more tax. What a dude – I like to think of him as the Willy Wonka of horror publishing.
As an admirer, I will of course buy Dr Sleep, but I harbour grave concerns. Sequels, especially ones written an entire quarter of a century after the original, have a lot to live up to. Also, as Hollywood types might say: "Vampires are over!" – they've had the blood sucked out of them by the Twilight franchise.
More importantly, how is Stephen King proposing to get the now middle-aged Danny on to a tricycle? Isn't that going to look the slightest bit weird? With the best will in the world, Dr Sleep could end up being disturbing in a way the Master of Suspense did not quite intend.
