The Plastic Surgery Bubble

is it finally about to burst?

Everyone's talking about breasts. No change there then. From the recent exploding breast implant panic to the tit-parade that is Big Brother, all those horrendous scripted-reality shows about people in Essex, and pretty much everything else on TV except a few cookery shows and QI, you can't channel-hop without being confronted by a parade of giant skin-covered fishbowl-shaped mammaries.

I heard them discussing the topic of implants on ITV's Loose Women yesterday, right before Jennifer Ellison came on (who surprisingly had nothing to say about the issue, but then I guess she probably doesn't care since she doesn't need the NHS to foot her bill).


They were discussing the issue of private companies refusing to offer free removals in light of the fact that the implants are thought to not be as safe as first indicated. Carol Mcgiffin said something to the effect of 'asking them to replace your implants is like getting contractors in to renovate your house, and when they've finished, saying "I don't like it!", and expecting the government to fix it.' Actually, it's a bit more like getting your house renovated then finding out afterwards the paint is loaded with asbestos, but I do agree with the point that it's not exactly a great idea to put industrial-strength silicone into your body in the first place.

End of an Era?

So does this amount to the beginning of the end for the golden age of going under the knife? The first breast-implant operation happened exactly 50 years ago, but has this fashion finally filtered down to the tragic clearance bins of cosmetic alterations? One day, perhaps very soon, will we look back on this phenomenon as one of those awful things we did to our collective selves, like public executions and 80's synth pop?

I'd like to agree with Harriet Walker and say yes, boobs are over, but honestly, I think it's a trend that's here to stay for quite some time yet. It's far more than just a ghastly aesthetic choice; it has roots in far deeper social and psychological problems. On a surface level, it's ultimately a question of taste: if scripted reality, the obsession with z-list celebrities, and the fact that more people are getting breast implants today than ten years ago are any indication, perhaps ours is somewhat lacking.

According to this article, "Emotional Chantelle Houghton has broken down again in the Big Brother house, saying she should have had therapy instead of plastic surgery after her split from Preston."
Now I don't have a clue who either of these people are, but a quick Facebook search reveals dozens of groups, each with hundreds of members, claiming things like 'We Love Chantelle Houghton'.
In a society where women like this are revered and few people have heard of women like Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and Jill Abramson, is it really surprising that breast size is often valued over brains?

But maybe I'm completely wrong, and this Chantelle chick is a charity-supporting future Nobel prize winner.

Supply and Demand

Verdict? This trend is here to stay, at least until there is a substantial value shift in personal and cultural spheres (2013?). As long as we continue to idolize these silicone carriers, put them on TV and in magazines, and create groups in their honour, they will continue to multiply.

But why the hell do we do this? One word: Shadenfreude. We simply love watching dumb celebrities get fat, get thin, and get fucked up. In front of cameras. That's why Jodie Marsh isn't stacking shelves in Tesco, and this video of Amy Winehouse at Belgrade has had more than six million views. And also why not a single person, onstage, or off, stopped her from doing this. We enjoy watching people crash and burn, so we put unbalanced people on pedestals and wait for them to fall off. I guess they're more like to topple over if they're front heavy and can't see their own feet.

So it looks like bad taste boobs and bad taste entertainment are here to stay. But it's really not that bad - I mean, it's not like there's a woman giving her daughter a $9,850 voucher for a boob job as a seventh birthday present, or horror-stories of breasts exploding at altitude. Right?