Should I get botox?
Botox, TikTok and the fear of ageing.
It is not news to anyone that TikTok does nothing for our self esteem. From the “clean girl aesthetic” to buccal fat removal - wtf is buccal fat removal? - we are currently being exposed to a relentless stream of short-form content on a scale like never before. And I’m not going to lie to you, I am an absolute sucker for it. I sleep on a satin pillow, I pretty much bathe in rosemary oil and I have bought more skincare in the past 12 months than it would be possible to get through in a lifetime. All of these things I have done in a feeble attempt to “fix” my latest insecurity that I never even knew I had in the first place.
Sold to me as self-care, these things have not only cost me a fortune, but more often than not they’ve made the issue considerably worse. Take my excessive skincare collection for example. Apart from being a prime example of overconsumption, it also presents a case study of misinformed consumption. I am not a dermatologist. The TikTokkers I lapped up in an attempt to attain the sought-after “glass skin look” were, for the most part, also not dermatologists. Yet regardless, I took their advice as gospel. Plastering my face with an array of different acids - filled with ingredients I couldn’t even pronounce, never mind tell you what they were doing for me - I was inadvertently exacerbating the issue. I went from a few spots here and there to an uncontrollable, incredibly painful, acne breakout. This sent my mental health spiralling. I barely left the house, I cancelled social events and I religiously scrolled through TikTok desperate to come across a miracle product that was going to “fix” my skin. I never did. In fact, it would be nearly a year until my skin started to clear up - something that only happened when I ditched the excessive products and resumed my regular, tried and tested skincare regime.
Despite having fallen victim to, what Jordan Theresa has described as ‘insecurity mining’ time and time again, I still find myself coming back for more. My latest fixation - my current Roman Empire if you will - is botox.
As a 27 year old, I have never really thought about my forehead. That was until I got engaged. While scrolling through #bridetok I was met with a whole array of TikToks provide me with a step-by-step guide of all the things I needed to do before I say “I do”.
12 months before: Find a venue.
9 months before: Book your photographer.
6 months before: Start getting botox.
Sorry, what? That’s right brides-to-be, apparently getting botox is now considered to be an essential part of the wedding planning process. At first I laughed this off. I don’t want botox. Then I saw another TikTok, and then another, until soon enough my entire feed was filled with botox before-and-after videos. I was soon deep into #botox - 10.1B views at the time of writing - TikTok, and for the first time in my life I became aware of my forehead lines. No, “aware” doesn’t quite cut it. I became obsessed. This obsession was further consolidated by a new TikTok filter designed to show you how you are going to age. I watched in horror as my now fine forehead lines became more and more prominent and my dark circles sunk further into my face. I then watched as my favourite TikTokers shared their own transformation, envious of their slow and graceful transformation. If this filter was an accurate indication of my future, maybe it was time to get botox…
Along with this new insecurity came, as often is the case, shame. Shame that I am ageing. Shame that I hadn’t addressed the “issue” sooner. To all my fellow 27 year olds out there, I’m sorry to tell you, but apparently we’ve pretty much missed the bus - doomed to a future of forehead creases and crows feet forever. You see, if I wanted to prevent my face from revealing any signs of my age I should have apparently started my botox journey years ago. The realisation made me feel sick. Yet at the same time I felt shame that I cared that I was ageing. Does that make me a bad feminist? All this shame that ultimately led to me asking, should I get botox?
It is a question I pondered for a while. I knew I didn’t want botox, but did I need it?
It seems I was not alone in asking the question. According to recent data 6.2 million people - primarily women - got botox in 2023. Terrifyingly, new research has also revealed that 9 in 10 beauty clinics are breaking laws intended to protect public health by advertising botox.
But why are so many women turning to botox?
While there are a whole array of reasons people decide to get botox, my own motivations seemed to be rooted in misogyny. In her book, The Double Standard of Ageing, Susan Sontag explores this issue, shedding light on a society which she argues ‘allows men to have a much more affirmative relationship with their bodies than women have’. Of course, I am not suggesting that men don’t experience insecurities. “Old” bodies, regardless of gender, are perceived very differently to their younger counterparts. However, it is not exactly breaking news that if we combine ageing with being a women, one is doubly marginalised. Studies have shown, for example, that older women are not considered to be as valuable in the work place in comparison to their male coworkers. As a result of this, they are less likely to receive training or mentoring that would allow them to progress in their career. Older women are also much less prominent in the media in comparison to men of a similar age. This therefore renders them invisible, telling all us onlookers in no uncertain terms that a woman’s ‘social value diminishes with age’. It is not surprising therefore that so many women are turning to procedures such as botox in an attempt to delay the visual signs of ageing.
As more and more of my friends have started to get botox, my own internalised misogyny has also raised its ugly head - here comes the shame again. I simultaneously judged those seeking out a solution for their own insecurities, whilst staring enviously at their motionless forehead over brunch. The devil on my shoulder became more and more insistent that it was time that I too took the plunge. You don’t want to be the only one who looks old, do you? You don’t want to be considered the ugly one? Yuck.
For those battling similarly incessant demons, I would highly recommend listening to Dolly Alderton’s reading of her response to a letter submitted by a women who had similar fears. I had the pleasure of listening to this live earlier this year and it - far more eloquently than I ever could - encapsulates my thoughts on this in retrospect.
Ultimately, my reasoning for thinking I need botox came from a fear of getting old. It’s the same reason I purchased an excessive amount of anti-ageing eye cream when I was 15. The same reason I removed my age from my Instagram bio when I hit 19. I want to be treated like a human being. I am scared to lose my youth as I have been taught that this will mean I lose my value. But, as Dolly puts it, ‘I am allowed to be a woman that ages’. My worth as a woman has been so intrinsically tied up with my appearance, with my youth, that the prospect of this changing had resulted in an existential crisis. Who am I beyond the way I look? What if I become invisible?
Honestly I don’t know whether or not I will consider botox again in the future. But if I do it won’t be because I think I should. Our value as women has nothing to do with our appearance or our age, and I have so much more to offer the world than a forehead that doesn’t crease.
Sources:
https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9780429496059-2/double-standard-aging-susan-sontag
https://www.standard.co.uk/comment/women-allowed-age-keira-knightley-carey-mulligan-workplace-b1065979.html?fbclid=IwAR2ec5zATcCneqMlu8m--7Iin3i0P9h3DLn_LrjA38pd-JxmHDIaikDFhho
https://www.ageing.ox.ac.uk/blog/Has-the-Representation-of-Older-Women-Changed-in-Contemporary-Popular-Culture
https://hbr.org/2023/06/women-in-leadership-face-ageism-at-every-age
https://www.doctormedica.co/blog/howmanypeoplegetbotoxstatistics2023#:~:text=It's%20regaining%20its%20popularity.,6.2%20million%20people%2C%20primarily%20women.