Comments & Curiosities

You make me feel so young. You make me feel like spring is sprung.

Wait. Maybe it’s just the Botox. Interesting story in these very pages

this week. Botox parties have come to the land of the Newport-Mesa.

In case Botox doesn’t ring a bell, it’s short for “botulinum toxin.”

Still no? OK, let’s go back. Botox treatments are a form of cosmetic

surgery. In the old days, when one got the urge to nip it, tuck it, lift

it, make it bigger, make it smaller or just make it go away, one had to

go to a special kind of doctor called a “plastic surgeon” for something

called “plastic surgery.” About 20 years ago, plastic surgeons realized

how unappealing the combination of “plastic” and “surgery” sounded -- no

matter how deftly it was done -- and plastic surgery became “cosmetic”

surgery. A much more important development, though, is that today’s

prospective nippers and tuckers can choose from a number of relatively

easy and affordable options in out-patient clinics, as compared to lying

on an operating table in never-never land while people in surgical masks

rearrange various parts of you.

First, they can inject with you stuff like Botox and collagen. Botox

unwrinkles the wrinkles around your eyes and your forehead -- crows feet,

laugh lines, frown lines, worry lines, whatever. Collagen makes things

smooth and puffy. Want some huge, pouty lips like Julia Roberts or

Claudia Schiffer? Easy. Go buy some. With enough collagen, your lower lip

can look like a small banana. But keep in mind, you have to go back in

and top off your lips every six months. You can also get your face sanded

if you prefer, with things like chemical peels and micro-dermabrasion --

from “derm” meaning skin and “abrasion” meaning “that hurts.” But these

days, Botox is the trendiest of the trends.

Making wrinkles go poof with Botox has been around since 1995, and

once a procedure is approved, it doesn’t take long for marketing to take

over. If you crank up your little computer and search “Botox” on the

Internet, three zillion Botox boutiques pop up around the country.

According to one clinic in Chicago, “If people ask you why you look

angry, sad, or tired all the time, you are ready for Botox.” Oh, OK. See?

I had no idea. You may think it’s money problems or your marriage falling

apart or a chronic illness that’s making you angry or sad or exhausted

all the time -- but that’s only because you didn’t realize you’re ready

for Botox. How could you not know that?

A small amount of Botox is injected into the muscle around the

offending wrinkle. Supposedly, it doesn’t hurt much because the needle is

really tiny. According to the Chicago clinic, “Most patients compare the

sensation to a bug bite.” Great. But I’d like a little more specificity

on what kind of bug we’re talking about before someone starts sticking

needles in my forehead, thank you. A flea, maybe. A wasp, pass. Just like

the Julia lips, you have to go back for a touch-up about every three to

six months. Obviously it works and the price is right, because people

have gone bonkers for Botox, which brings us to the Botox parties.

Apparently, the whole thing has become very social. Nippers and

tuckers meet at a clinic or someone’s home and enjoy a little wine, a

little cheese, a little Botox. Old friends get caught up, new friends get

introduced, then each disappears down the hall one after the other to be

renewed and refreshed, fluffed and folded, buffed and polished. Says

Richard Weiss, a Newport Beach plastic surgeon: “What baffles me is

people actually like to talk about this procedure as opposed to other

plastic surgery procedures. Botox gets them really excited.” I’ll leave

the last part alone, doc, but I couldn’t agree more about how baffling

this is.

Most people are very discrete, if not downright secretive, about their

new look. “You know, your nose looks --” “No it doesn’t.” “But it used

to be --” “No it wasn’t.” “Did you -- ?” “No.” “Are you sure --” “I said

no.”

People would plan long “vacations” around their make-overs, and

doctors would phase the work so that the change was less dramatic. Of

course, that’s the beauty of today’s high-tech, computerized,

laser-guided cosmetic surgery. It isn’t so much the fountain of youth as

it is your own little bottle of water. Unless, of course, you do a Greta

Von Susteren -- the Fox News anchor -- whose face got more a replacement

than a make-over. It’s hard to not have people notice when you disappear

from CNN, then reappear on Fox 30 days later with a totally new face.

But short of that, with today’s cosmetic surgery, you pick the time,

the place and the pace, as subtle or dramatic as you wish. Maybe that’s

why people not only don’t mind bonding over Botox these days, but see it

as an excuse for a party.

Does all this stuff work? Like everything else in life, it depends.

For my taste, it has to be a pretty subtle change. But the only thing

that really matters is what the person who’s getting the offending part

redone, whatever part that might be, thinks. When the swelling goes down

and they look in the mirror, if they’re happy, I’m happy. Me? I’ll just

hang on to what I got for now, thanks. It ain’t pretty, but I’m used to

it, and it doesn’t sting. I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays.

He may be reached via e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.