Inaugural Post: Our Obsession With Plastic

My daily routine is pretty standard. I get caught up on work-related matters first then I move on to scouring the internet for a few minutes catching up on the day's news. Today was no different. I updated myself on the ongoing investigation and missing persons search regarding the Minneapolis bridge collapse that happened earlier this week, boned-up on our world news to see how our troops are faring in the Middle East, caught a story about some yahoo giving birth to her 17th child (*gasp*), saw that Britney finally went out in public without another tacky headband to hide where her real hair and weave are badly intertwined (she should have worn the Weaveguard), and simply scanned pictures of celebrities as it is my guilty pleasure to spy on the rich and famous.

Today, I saw a picture of Courtney Love. Oh, Ms. Love. Once you were a hard-rockin' broad with balls of steel, smeared make-up across your sweaty face, and extra meat on your bones. Now you're a fashionista going downhill. Although I agree losing some extra weight and getting all purdy and stuff was a change for the better, but what's with all the facial augmentation? She honestly looks nothing like she did when she was singing lead vocals and thrashing her guitar for her band Hole. Her lips are the size of my head!

I started wondering about those people who have that disorder where they are obsessed with plastic surgery. I remembered reading an article years ago about a Manhattan socialite by the name of Jocelyn Wildenstein aka The Cat Woman. This woman has spent over a million dollars going under the knife. She was never an unattractive woman, but her inability to deal with her husband's infidelities led her to find solace in undergoing numerous surgeries that had her looking less like a sexy goddess and more like The Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz.

Jocelyn - Before

Jocelyn - After

I know as I get older, I will want to do something about my wrinkles and my saggy boobs...and all other parts of me that have already deteriorated from it's 22-year-old body...BUT... I don't know if pulling myself back so tight that my skin may rip when I smile is necessarily the way to go. Being of Filipino decent, I have a theory about Asian/Pacific Islander women. We go through years of looking young and vibrant. Then out of nowhere around the age 70, it's like you blink your eyes and we look like wrinkled shar-peis. Something my other half will have to look forward to in our Golden Years. The most I may do is that new non-invasive Lipodissolve, but other than that, I think I'll just invest in some good heavy moisturizers.

--Rice Spice