Leher Kala writes: Beauty junkies, beware

Indian Express

2 days ago

It is, one supposes, an acceptable pitfall of being the modern equivalent of King Midas that when hosting a glittering wedding in romantic Venice, every aspect will be thoroughly investigated and gleefully analysed. The Bezos wedding provided much grist for the rumour mills, from the foam parties to the love lives of attendant A-listers. Indeed, the vicarious thrill of living the dream is intense. To everyone watching footage of bejeweled guests disembarking the gondolas, what seemed magnified exponentially (and somewhat unusually), was a startling display of décolletage, prompting both — a slew of opinion on plastic surgery, and discussion on when, exactly, does risqué-ness tip over to crass exhibitionism?
Acerbic and sharp-tongued anchor Megyn Kelly held forth on the 'bizarre spectacle' asserting that actor Sydney Sweeney was invited because of her 'physical attributes'. A guest on Kelly's show described the 55-year-old bride's features as a 'repository of injectables'. If scantily clad was the abiding theme set by the hostess's penchant for bosom-revealing bustiers, it explains this wedding's attire etiquette, of negligee-style naked dresses and exposed inner-wear. Most prominent though, more than flesh oozing out of tightly laced corsets, were the enhanced lips, fake eyelashes, augmented breasts and face fillers. As another online commentator noted, Bezos' guests were de facto advertisements for their surgeons, who will rely on this footage to show future clients their noteworthy sculpting skills.
The righteous, of which there are large numbers everywhere, dismiss the craze for cosmetic improvement as rich-people-problems. Which isn't true anymore. A rhinoplasty or nose job can cost as little as Rs 45,000 in Delhi and is a 90-minute procedure, not requiring hospitalisation. If somebody doesn't want to go through life with a bad nose, and it's not breaking the bank, nor is it dangerous, changing it is a worthwhile investment. We don't think of wearing makeup or gymming as being self-absorbed; if science permits other options, it's no different. But the so-called shallow pursuit of vanity always comes with an unsaid warning of doom, rather than a promise of bliss. Of course, plastic surgery won't solve any existential problems, which haunt us till the end. It does, however, solve the problem of looking in the mirror and being chained by gloomy thoughts of too much nose.
Anyone halfway normal knows there are limits to striving for ideals of perfection. Much like we resist a second helping of dessert, most of us would steer clear of repeated surgical dabbling. The Venice extravaganza left the world gawking not just for its 50-million-dollar price tag but also the voyeuristic pleasure of observing those so committed to self-mutilation. What does it say — that the desire to look like an Only Fans model is the current cultural conditioning among those who have everything? It's one thing to indulge in some minor tweaking but entirely another to reconstruct a new self to keep up with the trend everyone's sporting, of a luscious mouth and high cheekbones.
In the subversive television drama Nip/Tuck, every episode would begin with two plastic surgeons asking their women clients, 'So, tell us what you don't like about yourself.' Ageing was the inevitable answer. Alas, all attempts to subvert time's winged chariot are futile. Beauty is fleeting. It doesn't last, because nothing lasts. The demise of 42-year-old Shefali Jariwala, allegedly due to unregulated aesthetics treatments, makes her a statistical anomaly but it has some sobering lessons. While doggedly pursuing youth is unlikely to kill us, when it occupies too much mindspace, it prevents us from enjoying this moment, which has so many other wonders.
The writer is director, Hutkay Films