Mother of the Kardashian clan Kris Jenner debuted her new face this week after having some surgical enhancements done in order to prepare for the wedding of surgically enhanced daughter Kim (forger her butt-why is she under thirty and looking like a prettier version of the ‘cat lady’?) in the coming weeks.
My mother, who is in her sixties and looks like she’s in her early fifties, has been lamenting a possible face lift for some time now. My late paternal grandmother once told my father that she had enough money to live independently for “ten more years”; shortly thereafter, she had a face lift and quipped “Well, I’m down to three now.” Vanity, I come by you naturally.
I’ve already committed myself to working out and eating (mostly) well in order to help my body age well on its own. And though I don’t see myself injecting botulism into my cheeks at thirty to look more youthful, nor ever changing my appearance 180-degrees with a bunch of work designed to make me look like someone else, I’m not shutting the door to the possibility of plastic surgery.
I hope to age gracefully; meaning with the ability to accept that I no longer will look like a 20-something when I’m a 50-something. But I also want to age well. If forced to choose between accepting how I look naturally, yet not loving it and loving how I look after having some work done, then I would likely find myself in a surgeon’s office. I’ve already established that my large, already low-hanging bosom will require a lift after the birth of my children. And I’m not opposed to a tummy-tuck or liposuction either. I’ve typically thought that my face would just do what it does naturally, but I’m not sure that I’d be cool with sagging jowls or crows feet if I didn’t have to deal with them.
What say you, Clutchettes? Have you or would you go under the knife for beauty? Why or why not?