In an online era increasingly leaning into visual deception and falsehood, transparency appears to be a #radical act. Wiping filters off Instagram posts and sharing images and videos of anything from “real” skin to mental breakdowns is one of the Internet’s ways of pushing back on unrealistic beauty and lifestyle standards promoted on mainstream social media pathways. A way of just BeingReal. And while many are apt to hold themselves accountable for digital transparency, others are eager to pull the curtain back on others’ habits.
In the past couple of years, a new kind of transparency has cropped up on the heels of the COVID-19 pandemic: cosmetic transparency. Years past, celebrities and other public figures often attempted to hide the fact that they had undergone cosmetic surgery. Dodging interview questions, sneaking through the backdoors of clinics, and emerging with a big pair of sunglasses and a headscarf wrapped around their face like a vintage movie star.
In 2015, at age 18, Kylie Jenner may have got the ball rolling with cosmetic transparency when she admitted to receiving lip filler on Keeping Up With the Kardashians after previously denying claims. In her 2022 cover story with Vogue, Bella Hadid reveals that she got a nose job at age 14 (a choice that she says she regrets). And in 2021, 58-year-old Marc Jacobs famously documented the recovery process of his facelift via Instagram, describing the procedure and other forms of cosmetic work as “external wellness,” (which feels like a complete oxymoron).
Many have been quick to commend these public figures for their raw admission to undergoing cosmetic procedures. For years, non-celebrities have looked to the rich and famous with insecurity, thinking that they obtained their beauty from the grace of God alone. Now, admitting to undergoing cosmetic surgery gives the non-famous a more realistic, balanced view of what’s possible by genetics alone vs. what features require surgical intervention.
As I mentioned earlier, this newfound open attitude surrounding cosmetic procedures mirrors the wider trend of “authenticity” on social media, served through photo dumps, BeReals, and the like. Rather than sneaking around, social media influencers and celebrities tag their surgeons on Instagram and have “before” and “after” photos taken to help market the cosmetic clinics. Referring to lip filler as a “touch up,” as we once did with haircuts and manicures.
It’s challenging for me to deduce whether cosmetic transparency is a net good online development. Overall, I think that being honest about the “work” one has had done - and its risks, in particular - has numerous benefits, as some cosmetic procedures can be invasive, dangerous, and expensive. These realities aren’t often acknowledged enough in mainstream conversations about cosmetic surgery. People should know the risk involved with undergoing procedures that could potentially harm their general well-being, whether that’s physical and mental health or financial security.
However, when we discuss cosmetic procedures in a noticeably casual way, we run the risk of normalizing them. Making us numb to the reality that we’re shifting beauty norms to be increasingly unrealistic, wedging deeper insecurity and disembodiment into women, in particular. And I fear that this standardization has already begun.
For example, in the grand spirit of radical transparency, in Kim Kardashian’s cover story for the August 2022 edition of Allure, writer Danielle Pergament describes Kardashian giving her cosmetic suggestions in a rather deadpan, matter-of-factly fashion upon request:
”After what feels like a long while, Kim Kardashian stops staring at my forehead and says I should get Botox. It’s very matter of fact. The way a grandmother might confirm that the melon she had said all along was overripe was, in fact, overripe. She continues, without emotion. Maybe some filler under my eyes. Oh, and I could stand some microblading in my eyebrows.”
While the interviewer asked Kardashian for the cosmetic tip, the reality star’s pragmatic attitude towards the manner reflects a nonchalant view of procedures that can be harmful in the short and long term. Acting as though shuffling the features on your face is as easy as changing up your outfit sounds like the plot of a Black Mirror episode but is increasingly becoming a reality.
TikTok frequenters may also be well aware of the cosmetic surgery side of the app, in which cosmetic surgeons comment on the work celebrities have gotten done - or should get done. A prime example of this is Miranda Wilson, a nurse practitioner, who posted a viral video of herself making suggestions for cosmetic work Stranger Things actress Natalia Dyer should get done. Wilson says she would start by treating Dyer’s “masseter” muscles to give her face a slimmer appearance, followed by a bit of chin and lip filler, botox, and a brow lift “to help open her eyes.”
Hearing Wilson make these “recommendations” reminds me of that scene in Mean Girls (2004) when Cady Heron is listening to The Plastics complain about the parts of their bodies they wish they could change. There are details about my face and body I didn’t even know were possible to change. Or that I was supposed to want changed.
Wilson has since apologized for the video, claiming that it wasn’t intended to tell people what cosmetic work Natalia should get done, but was rather providing an example to give viewers suggestions and inspiration. Advising a facial reassignment like a stylist selecting pieces for a wardrobe. A careful composer designing the sound of a symphony.
So much of the conversation around cosmetic transparency comes back to the fact that women should feel comfortable being open about their personal beauty choices. It’s not hard to understand why a woman would desire cosmetic procedures in a world where beauty is unfortunately one of the most effective currencies a women can presently possess. Writer Jia Tolentino spells this view out well in her article “The Age of Instagram Face” in The New Yorker. She writes:
“In a world where women are rewarded for youth and beauty in a way that they are rewarded for nothing else—and where a strain of mainstream feminism teaches women that self-objectification is progressive, because it’s profitable—cosmetic work might seem like one of the few guaranteed high-yield projects that a woman could undertake.”
When we make cosmetic procedures seem like a routine requirement of being an aging woman, we risk shifting beauty standards towards territories that are increasingly distant from the human form. On the path we’re headed, what seems “average” now will soon seem “ugly” as skin becomes inhumanly tighter, cheekbones unrealistically loftier, eyes more upturned, and body proportions more impossible to achieve.
We, as a culture, can be transparent about cosmetic procedures we undertake to help prevent skewing the reality of natural beauty and riddling young people with unrealistic expectations of how they will or should look as they age. But we do not need to cloak this transparency in pink wrapping paper and call it feminism because it’s not. Altering one’s face and body to better fit the beauty standards prescribed by the patriarchy is not an act of liberation. Nor is making some grand declaration about it on your social media or reality show.
Sure, it’s a personal choice, and as I’ve stated before - people should be able to make choices. However, when the choices presented to women are regular cosmetic maintenance that causes their beauty to further deviate from a human domain or be deemed ugly and thus not valuable to society - what kind of choices are those?
This article just proves to me that the plot of "Uglies" by Scott Westerfeld has more and more validity with each passing trend.
The worse part is that appearance also goes through fashion phases, and now even body parts do. The Brazilian but-lift will probably still be desirable in Brazil, because we have always valued big butts, but it's already not the case anymore in the US.
I clearly remember my grandma saying that she regretted plucking her eyebrows so much because they don't come back and telling me never to do it. It was fashionable in the 40s and 50s but then it wasn't so much later on. Imagine that kind of regret, but with a surgery? It's crazy. No thanks.
Also, I have a broad maxilar like Natalia and I have never ever felt like it was something bad. Social media generates so much insecurity. This surgeon is insane, this girl is gorgeous.