A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All

Tag: plastic surgery

There was a story on the Today show yesterday morning about couples having plastic surgery together.

I think.

I was choking on my All Bran too hard to hear the whole thing.

“The look is natural and appealing to everyone,” says BOTOX® patient Nancy Emmitte of Fort Worth, Texas.

Alrighty then.

Clearly “natural” means different things to different people. Like the people who call MSG “natural flavoring” on the back of the Ramen Noodles bag.

Nancy, you look so familiar to me. I can’t place my finger on it, but you definitely remind me of someone. Hmmm….

Is it this lady?

No… not quite.

How about her:


Oh, I know…

There you are! Hello, you.

I’m often the last one to know these things, but is there a new beauty trend? The higher the eyebrow arch, the closer to God? Why would anyone want to always look so surprised?!

And this look requires needles, people. Needles in the face. Needles filled with live botulism… a toxin that paralyzes your facial muscles so as to flatten out those pesky furrows.

But hey, to each his/her own. Who am I to judge? I have a beard! You say po-TAH-to, I say Pinot Grigio.

But this isn’t just about Nancy. Women have been doing stupid shit to themselves in the name of “beauty” since the beginning of time. What makes this story special is that Nancy’s husband Nick is going with her and having his own BOTOX® injections so he can “keep up with” his wife’s good looks.

Pack your emergency kits, folks. This is surely the beginning of the apocalypse.

“Make me look like I’m not mad,” said Nick right before the Nurse Practitioner jabbed him with a poison filled needle right between the eyes. Youch!

Ironic. I would think dropping $400 every 4-6 months to temporarily paralyze your forehead with injectable toxins would actually make someone feel, and thus look, MORE angry. Maybe Nick wouldn’t have so many deep set wrinkles if he wasn’t blowing his money on “his and her” Frankenfaces.

Not to pick on Nick and Nancy. Their friends are doing enough of that for all of us.

I don’t know what burns my biscuits the most about this: the pandemic of low self esteem or the ridiculous amount of money being spent on something so shallow.

According to Today, Americans spent nearly $10.7 BILLION on procedures in 2010, which was up 9% from the year before. Is there really that much extra money floating around our country? Damn. Can I have some?

“People are trying to look more well rested, younger… trying to get jobs, maintain their jobs, get clients… I think that has a lot to do with it,” speculates Vanessa Sisson, Nurse Practitioner.

I get that. This would be a scary time to be without a job.

But you know what else is scary?…facial paralysis.

Get that toxin injected too deep or too low, and HOLLA… you don’t look well rested or younger. You look like Droopy Dog.

I don’t know about you, but if I’m hiring someone, I’m probably NOT going to pick the guy who looks like he might fall asleep with his face in the soup at our next big client luncheon.

And the idea of couples doing this TOGETHER? This isn’t tennis, or golf, or a wine tasting. This is an elective surgical procedure. 

Gosh, I hope couples who get facial injections together don’t get all hot and horny and leave the doctor’s office all hopped up on the “we’re going to look so hot!” wave. Apparently you’re not supposed to rub the treated area for at least twelve hours after your BOTOX® procedure and you are told not to lie down for three to four hours after treatment or the toxins can spread and effect the wrong things. (According to FaceForum.)

D’ya hear that Nick and Nancy? No rubbing. No lying down. You don’t want your new BOTOX injections to migrate to your eye area and cause blindness! Then you wouldn’t be able to see how hot you both look. 

I just don’t get it. But then again, I don’t get a lot of things…like Planking, or Owling, or butthole bleaching.

We need a revolution. We need brave men and women to take a stand against this ridiculous pressure to look young. And the revolution is going to have to start from within. We have to stop comparing ourselves to the photoshopped or surgically augmented images we see in the media and start accepting and loving ourselves for who we are.

And this needs to happen now. Our children are watching. People are hurting themselves, exposing themselves to ridiculous risks, and in the end, they are looking worse than when they started.

Remember when we were teens and we slathered ourselves in baby oil to get that savage tan (while sneaking our moms’ Virginia Slims). And now we’re all having suspicious moles the size of nickels removed from our backs? (No? Just me?) And here we are decades later buying sunscreen shirts for our kids and putting on hats and sunscreen before we even go outside to get the paper?

Think about that.

What are all these BOTOX-ed people going to look like in 20 years?

image credit http://www.oddee.com

No thank you.

Go look at yourself in the mirror right now and tell yourself, OUT LOUD, three things that you love about yourself. Bonus points if you get nekkid first. Go ahead. Do it. I’ll wait.

YOU. Are. Beautiful.

Now start taking better care of yourself, from the inside out.


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

PS – I have no way of controlling the ad that is going to appear below. If it is an ad for plastic surgery, DO NOT CLICK IT. I beg you. 

ApocaLIPS: my take on the latest plastic surgery trend.

Truly, I’m not obsessed with my vagina, all evidence to the contrary. But just when I thought I knew everything there was to know about my anatomy, I discover that there is a whole (hole) ‘nother world of muffin maintenance that I know nothing about. Yinz are never gonna believe this. Did you know there is a new thing called the Wonder Woman Makeover™? No kidding. It is not what you think, though. If you go to a plastic surgeon and ask for a Wonder Woman, you will not walk out looking like Lynda Carter.

In fact, you probably won’t be able to walk at all for a while.  ‘Cause get this: the Wonder Woman Makeover™ is a makeover for your goodie basket! And by goodie basket, I mean ALL the fun parts immediately above and below where you hang your Lasso of Truth. And by Makeover, I don’t mean makeup and a fashion update, although that is always nice.  No, we are talking Nip/Tuck, people. Apparently you can get your tuna noodle casserole tightened back up as if you never even popped out a puppy or two. But why? Read on.

Let’s talk specifics.  Here is the basic definition of the Wonder Woman Makeover™: multiple consecutive surgeries that include laser vaginal rejuvenation, laser reduction labiaplasty, liposculpturing with Brazilian Butt Augmentation, and breast augmentation. “Huh,” you say?  Let me say it in American for ya, honey: this is a muffin-mincing, rear-raising, cellulite-sucking, boob-building smorgasbord.  Everything from your pits to your knees will be made “good as new” with this dealio.  Just don’t expect it to be covered by health insurance…this kind of thing is rarely deemed medically necessary. Of course, if men requested this sort of work, doctors would be offering it at the drive-thru window, with nary a co-pay, but that is a different story.

Now, for my female readers who are either not mothers or who have had the benefit of a C-Section and are still as tight as a drum down yonder, you might be wondering, what’s all this emphasis on vaginal rejuvenation? I can answer this best with a Haiku:

My babies were big,

and now so is my cooter.

Is it in yet, Hon?

Don’t get me wrong. This is not about my husband. Even if sex with me is like tossing a baseball bat into the garage, The Gatekeeper is usually just grateful that he’s getting a chance to put the recreational equipment away once in a while, if you know what I mean. But you know men… they could stick it into a warm apple pie and still get their rocks off. Women’s needs are a bit more, uh, specific.

A study conducted by the famous Masters and Johnson research team revealed that sexual pleasure is heightened by an increase in friction. Well, that can be a bit of a problem for us natural Wonder Women. Once you’ve pushed out a baby or two the old fashioned way, sex might feel more like a Teflon-coated Olympic luge event than squeezing a camel through the eye of a needle.

According to the surgeons who specialize in it, Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation® (LVR®) enhances vaginal muscle tone, strength, and control. It decreases the internal and external vaginal diameters as well as builds up and strengthens the perineal body (the area immediately outside the vagina and above the anus). Well, isn’t that nice. So something like this could help me stop peeing when I laugh? Hmmm. Very interesting. Go on.

Yes, vaginal rejuvenation can improve bodily functions. But for some women, going this route is purely an aesthetic thing. They simply want a pretty one. Well, excuse me for saying, but that sounds a little oxymoronic to me. Like Jumbo Shrimp. Nondairy Creamer. Holy War. Wireless Cable. The Patriot Act. Then again, I’m a married old hag and not out there trolling for fresh meat. If I was dating, you better believe I’d use every trick in the book to make my fishing tackle more attractive, including waxinga-hole bleaching, and vajazzling. Whatever it takes, I say.

Having never spent a lot of time gazing longingly at this part of my own body, I wasn’t quite sure what constitutes a “pretty one.” But God Bless America… lookie what I found online. Thank you Al Gore for inventing the Internet.

Ladies, feel free to print this diagram out and use it as a teaching tool for those men in your life who don’t quite grasp the traffic patterns down there. Never pleasant. Anyhooo, this diagram was a real eye opener for me, because I honestly thought a normal healthy 41 year old post partum poonanie was supposed to look like this:

And in certain light, like this:

Hey, don’t judge. Remember, I’ve pushed three, count them THREE, very large pumpkins out of my lady garden. And I had an episiotomy with the first one that somewhat resembled the gutting of a fish. Between that wreckage, the hormone induced facial hair, and the vericose veins, I’m starting to wonder if God designed the female body to self-destruct after childbirth so we wouldn’t be distracted by things like flirting and sex and could therefore focus all our energies on caring for our spawn. How depressing is that?! And you wonder why I drink.

So the good news is this: we have choices today! But before going under the knife, I’m just suggesting you consider all the options. How about asking HIM to get a penis enlargement instead? Why not? THAT is probably covered by insurance. Or, if you are self conscious about the fact that your knockers hang to your knees and your stomach looks like a Shar-Pei, then do what I do: dim the lights and buy some industrial strength lingerie! You’ll save your dignity AND electricity! Win-win!

And of course, there is always the old fashioned way of getting your mojo back: exercise! (Or so I’ve been told.) But I do know you can tighten up your tingly parts over time with a regular Kegel routine. It won’t give you a J-Lo booty or restore your milk bags to their former glory, but let’s just focus on one failing body part at a time here.

Knowledge is power, ladies. But so is a healthy body image. Remember: the best accessory any gal can own is confidence! No matter what route you choose: love yourself and others will too. And if they don’t, fuck ’em. Their loss. Because you are fabulous just the way you are.

with all my heart and extra-large lady bits,


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris.

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