'Botched' Love Island star finally reveals all the plastic surgery she's had done after shock over her real age
And Vanna Einerson, 21, set the record straight while appearing on The Viall Files podcast, which aired Tuesday.
Vanna said all the critical comments about her appearance - with many shocked at her real age - caused her to break down and cry.
She admitted to get her lips done, as well as a breast augmentation.
'I'm ok, I'm very secure in myself. Most of the things that people thought I got done, like my cheeks and my chin and my lips - lips, duh, I got my lips done. I like my lips. But my cheeks and my chin, [I was] born with it.' she said on the podcast.
Adding: 'You guys are calling me out for things and saying that I have filler in things, but I was born with it.'
The reality star said it led to 'new' insecurities after so many people pointed out things about her that she was born with.
Vanna jokingly said she took it as a 'compliment' that they thought she paid for cheek and chin filler.
She also addressed why her face appeared so swollen, blaming the pillow she used on the island.
Vanna said she's allergic it feathered pillows: 'I woke up every day [with] my whole face swollen.'
She revealed she didn't know she was receiving criticism while on the show because she didn't have her phone.
When she got her phone back, her mom told her to wait and go online when she was with her - but she didn't listen and saw all the comments from people eviscerating her looks.
'It was really, really hard seeing all of it. I was in the hotel with Coco [Watson] and [she] was getting a lot of love while I was getting a lot of hate. I had a moment where I just broke down crying. I'm honestly so grateful for Coco that she was there because she sat and prayed over me.'
When she got her phone back, her mom told her to wait and go online when she was with her - but she didn't listen and saw all the comments from people eviscerating her looks
She also called out the rumor that her mom was the injector and injecting her lips when Vanna was 14.
She revealed that her mom is a stay-at-home mom and has 'never had a job in her life.'
Vanna, who said 'words really hit so hard,' also denied getting a bbl, which makes a person's backside bigger.
Savanna 'Vanna' Einerson made a brief appearance on season seven of Love Island USA, initially making her debut as a Casa Amor girl.
As a newcomer on the show, Einerson — a golf influencer hailing from Salt Lake City, Utah — began attracting scrutiny for her physical appearance.
Last week, a fan-made TikTok video went viral as viewers debated her looks and expressed disbelief that she 'is only 21 years old.'
Some people harshly criticized her 'tweaking' her appearance — juxtaposing recent events like Kylie Jenner being widely praised for opening up about the details of her boob job.
Meanwhile, there were other TikTok users who said that they 'feel so bad for her' as they shared pity and patronization for her.
The caption for the video, which speculated about Einerson getting 'fillers,' read: 'I do not want to bully this poor girl at all. She is not ugly. But those fillers are aging her SO MUCH. She is 21?'
Shortly afterwards, the official Instagram page of Love Island USA took to social media to share a statement in response to the negative comments about the stars.
'We appreciate the fans, the passion for the series, and the amazing group of Islanders who are sharing their summer with us. Please just remember they're real people — so let's be kind and spread the love!'
Some social media users claimed she was 'overfilled' while others wrote that she 'looks sooo much older and different now.'
Some users left harsh comments, comparing her to fictional characters on TV, while others started discourse about the 'impossible beauty standards' in modern society.
Outside of the villa, Einerson's close friend started defending her against the online trolls commenting on her appearance.
'Vanna is one of my favorite people,' Lulu Clawson said on TikTok about her best friend of over five years.
'She's so nice to every single person she meets. She's so genuine. She's so confident. She loves herself. She loves her style. She loves her appearance, and she loves everybody else's as well.'
Einerson's friend continued: 'She would never make fun of anyone else's looks. She's the least judgmental person.'
She concluded her post by calling out the haters and wrote: 'If someone is confident and loves themselves, then let them. It doesn't matter if you think they shouldn't look like that.'
When Einerson first entered Casa Amor, she ended up coupling with, disrupting his connection with Chelley in the villa.
Love Island USA, which stars Ariana Madix as the host, airs six nights a week, except for Wednesday, on Peacock with all prior episodes available for streaming.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mail
an hour ago
- Daily Mail
Meghan Markle's As Ever wine goes on sale for wild price per bottle... but it is already SOLD OUT
Meghan Markle 's As Ever rosé wine is now available for purchase for a steep price - but it is already sold out. On Tuesday, the sales for the wine went live, with customers able to purchase three bottles for $90, six bottles for $159, and 12 bottles for $300. If you bought the six bottle package, Meghan promised that you were receiving 12 per cent off, while a 12-pack gets you a 17 per cent saving. Daily Mail exclusively revealed this week that the alcoholic beverage is made by Fairwinds Estate, a California winery that creates bespoke wines for celebrities, as they've now added Meghan to their list of clients. When FEMAIL in New York went to purchase a bundle of the wine, we weren't asked for proof of ID - only our birthday. In New York State, there are strict rules about the shipping of wine, as 'manufacturers in other states can make direct shipments of wine, distilled spirits, cider, mead, and braggot to New York residents with an Out-of-State Direct Shipper's License,' per the state's website. The state also requires that the manufacturer must require the customer to represent that they are 21 or older at purchase (and on delivery provide proof that they are 21 years of age or older) and that the alcohol is being purchased for personal use only. Wine shipped to New York must also be labeled in a specific way, as the package must read, 'signature of person age 21 or older required for delivery.' So, in New York, you may be able to order the wine online, but you will need to show proof of identity and age in order to accept the package. But while it may be simple for anyone of age to get their hands on Meghan's As Ever wine, a supplier like Total Wine won't even ship wine to New York State. Other websites, like Wine Access, however, follow As Ever's lead and only ask for a birthdate upon ordering. The As Ever wine is the first alcoholic product to be sold under the brand, and will join her current rolodex of raspberry and apricot spreads, cookie mixes, flower sprinkles and herbal teas - all of which received a less-than-perfect review by FEMAIL. However, Caitlin Jardine, a Social Media Manager at Ellis Digital, previously shared with Daily Mail that The Duchess could risk 'alienating' some fans with the boozy introduction. Jardine noted that Meghan will be 'entering a highly competitive and established market' that is 'most likely to appeal to a more expansive audience, particularly those who see wine as more than just something to drink but an accessory to their lifestyle.' 'However, having already associated herself with all things wellness, this could alienate some of her fan base who feel as though she is going against her core wellness-centered brand image, different to her existing line of products, with the potential to contradict her values around mindful living,' Jardine explained. But it is not all bad news for the entrepreneur. 'What it does do is add versatility to her current line of As Ever products, reflecting a more modern, balanced lifestyle,' she shared. 'Rather than one that is more rigid and "clean," it reflects one that is more in tune with her diverse audience and how they live.' Jardine noted that in the past, Meghan has faced criticism from the public about her lack of relatability - and thinks this new line of rosé could help recover her image. Meghan's July 1 wine launch is her second in just a matter of weeks. On June 20, she released a new apricot spread and limited-edition orange blossom honey - but unfortunately, her infamous raspberry spread was nowhere to be found.
Telegraph
an hour ago
- Telegraph
The Sandman remains brilliant, but Neil Gaiman's involvement casts a shadow
The second series of Netflix's adaptation of cult graphic novel The Sandman is a brilliantly surreal, escapist fantasy that has all the makings of a substantial hit – or at least it would if its creator, Neil Gaiman, hadn't been cancelled last year. Gaiman for decades positioned himself as a card-carrying male feminist and ally of trans and gay people. It was as much part of his brand as The Sandman, which tells the story of Morpheus, the moody lord of dreams (based in equal measures on a young Gaiman and top goth Robert Smith of The Cure). But he has gone from nerd hero to villain and cautionary tale after a number of women accused him of abusive and coercive behaviour. He has rejected the allegations, saying he 'never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone'. Yet despite those denials, his career is effectively over. And with it, The Sandman, which Netflix is bringing to a premature close after a truncated two seasons. In terms of damage limitation, the decision is a no-brainer. That said, this fantastically unconventional and sumptuously crafted show surely deserves better, with just two (and a bit) of the 10 original graphic novels adapted. 'I'd be crazy to say it wasn't weird,' is how producer David S Goyer characterised the experience of working on The Sandman as the allegations surfaced. He was careful to add that Gaiman wasn't as heavily immersed in the production as in series one. His lack of involvement is no loss as the story picks up the tale of Morpheus, aka Dream – played with sublime solemnity by Tom Sturridge. He is one of the family of 'Endless' who embody various elements of the human experience. The Sandman has already introduced Mason Alexander Park as Desire and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as Death (a fan favourite, in part inspired by Gaiman's friend, singer Tori Amos). This time, Morpheus catches up with Delirium (a brilliantly brittle Esmé Creed-Miles, daughter of Samantha Morton) and the mysterious black sheep of the clan (Barry Sloane). Jenna Coleman is back, too, as Joanna Constantine – a paranormal investigator from Elizabethan England. Ruairi O'Connor, meanwhile, has a small but crucial part as a close relative of Morpheus with a tendency to lose his head. There are also fun cameos by Steve Coogan, Freddie Fox, Sanjeev Bhaskar, Stephen Fry and Jack Gleeson, aka wicked Prince Joffrey from Game of Thrones. Goyer – and Gaiman, to the extent he was involved – have done a great job of transposing to the screen the stream-of-consciousness tone of the comic books (as per Netflix's custom, the season is divided into two with the final four episodes arriving on July 24). Taking a sort of free-jazz approach to storytelling, The Sandman graphic novels don't have a plot so much as a vibe. In a fitting reflection of the subject matter, they follow a charming dream logic as Morpheus travels the cosmos, embarking on many unusual adventures. These include a run-in with Shakespeare (it turns out Morpheus inspired A Midsummer Night's Dream) and an awkward encounter with a bored Lucifer (Gwendoline Christie). The Sandman isn't for everyone. This is hardcore geek material – portentous, pretentious and not big on humour. If you enjoy a good cosy crime binge watch then avoid. Especially the bit where a demon has sex with a giant spider lady. However, even people who like this kind of thing may be conflicted, given the backlash against Gaiman. Though wonderfully made and acted, the allegations against the show's creator have robbed The Sandman of a great deal of its lustre. It's a shame the adaptation is over almost before it began. But for Netflix, you suspect this dreamy tale has become a waking nightmare that can't end too soon.
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
Empire of the Elite by Michael M Grynbaum – inside the glittering world of Condé Nast
Samuel Irving 'Si' Newhouse Jr became chair of Condé Nast, the magazine group owned by his father's media company, Advance Publications, in 1975. Under his stewardship, Condé's roster of glossy publications – titles such as Vogue, GQ and Glamour – broadened to include Architectural Digest, a revived Vanity Fair and the New Yorker. Newhouse spent big in pursuit of clout, and his company's extravagant approach to expenses became the stuff of legend. Condé positioned itself as a gatekeeper of high-end living but, as Michael Grynbaum explains in Empire of the Elite, its success in the 80s and 90s was down to its willingness to embrace 'low' culture. Condé brought pop stars, television personalities and tabloid intrigue into the highbrow fold, reconstituting cultural capital to fit the sensibilities of an emerging yuppie class with little interest in ballet or opera. Several moments stand out, in retrospect: GQ's 1984 profile of Donald Trump, which paved the way for The Art of the Deal; Madonna's 1989 debut on the cover of Vogue; and the New Yorker's coverage of the OJ Simpson trial in 1994. Tina Brown, appointed editor of the New Yorker in 1992 after a decade at Vanity Fair, said she wanted 'to make the sexy serious and the serious sexy'. Purists bemoaned what they saw as a slide into vulgar sensationalism, but Grynbaum maintains Brown 'wasn't so much dumbing down the New Yorker as expanding the universe to which it applied its smarts'. That expansiveness was key to Condé's mission, and it succeeded so comprehensively that today we take it for granted. Anna Wintour's Vogue would 'elevate the idea of street-style fashion, and presage the industry of stylists and celebrity brand ambassadors that have come to dominate lifestyle media', and GQ's preppy, 'proto-Patrick Bateman materialism' popularised 'the metrosexuality, dandyism and male self-care that have since saturated the culture'. The glory started to fade in the 21st century. The company's acquisitive ethos looked out of touch after the 2008 crash ('Condé's metier was privilege, and privilege had become a dirty word'), and its underwhelming record on race came under scrutiny with the advent of Black Lives Matter. Social media democratised the means of cultural curation, undercutting the authority of established taste-makers. The book ends on a wistful note as Grynbaum contemplates the decline of print media, and the end of an era of plenty. A similar sentiment is expressed in the poignant title of a recent memoir by Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter, When the Going Was Good. Like Brown's The Vanity Fair Diaries (2017) before it, Carter's memoir offers a vivid, first-hand glimpse of the Condé social whirl. Both books have been praised for their anecdotal brio, and criticised for their namedropping smugness. It's a trade-off. Conversely, Empire of the Elite is a sober affair – an unflustered, chronological account of half a century's comings-and-goings – but has the merit of relative objectivity. The author, a correspondent by trade, keeps his focus on events and his opinions largely to himself; he neither grates nor delights. Gossip junkies and vicarious bon vivants will have more fun with Carter, but Empire of the Elite is a lucid introduction to this rarefied milieu and the people who inhabited it. It sounds like an exhausting world to navigate, 'a land of unspoken codes … The proper knotting of an ascot; the angle of a tie bar; how you dressed, how you spoke, where you went, who you knew – these considerations mattered deeply.' Grynbaum quotes one journalist who believes she missed out on an editorship because, during the interview lunch, she gauchely ate asparagus with cutlery rather than by hand. Tellingly, several of the key players in the Condé story were outsiders: Newhouse, who was Jewish, felt excluded from the Waspy top echelons of US society; Alex Liberman, the veteran editorial director who took Newhouse under his wing and schooled him in urbanity, had been a refugee from Soviet Russia; Carter was a pilot's son from Toronto. These arrivistes understood status anxiety, and astutely monetised it, offering readers an empowering sense of in-group membership for the modest price of a magazine subscription. And, because the United States is a nation built on clambering ambition, it worked. Empire of the Elite: Inside Condé Nast, the Media Dynasty That Reshaped the World by Michael M Grynbaum is published by Hodder & Stoughton (£22). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
