On Nips, tucks and pre-nup confessions
Another new low for reality TV, as American network E! rolls out a series which combines weddings and plastic surgery. Bridalplasty pits brides-to-be against one another as they compete in wedding-themed challenges to win surgical procedures.
The winner gets to showcase her new face on her wedding day. The losers face "possibly walking away with nothing and losing [their] chance to be the perfect bride".
Oh, what an ugly world we live in, but before I digress into a diatribe on the degeneration of mainstream media, I'll get to my point.
Should brides-to-be tell their partners about cosmetic surgeries they've had in the past?
Let's say you had a nose job in your early 20s. It radically changes your appearance and bolsters your confidence. In your early 30s you fall in love and become engaged.
Do you a) tell your husband-to-be about the surgery or, b) keep schtum and live in dread of the day he discovers your First Communion photos or, worse, the moment you give birth to a son who looks like Gerard Depardieu?
I'll ask myself. Were I to have, say, a Miami Thong Lift (the very latest procedure for a curvier rear end), would I admit that the magnificence of my perfectly sculpted bottom was, in fact, owed to a surgeon's scalpel? My arse I would. I wouldn't be as open as Irish-based model Kristi Kuudisiim, who admits to having a bum-lift
In fact, I'd probably even tut tut when talk turned to cosmetic surgery. "I just don't understand why women can't embrace their natural beauty, darling."
Is he going to tell you he's been using Grecian 2000 for the past five years? Will he admit he doesn't just visit Chartbusters for the DVDs? No chance.
Some quarters think we owe it to our partners to divulge all previous self-enhance-ments, not just out of honesty and integrity, but genetic probability.
In China, a woman who failed to tell her husband she had extensive cosmetic surgery had to cough up $120,000 when he sued her. (This alongside the alleged $100,000 she spent on the procedures.) When she gave birth to an unusually ugly daughter, her husband assumed she had been unfaithful. In a bid to prove her fidelity, she showed him a pre-surgery picture. He sued her for "lost opportunities".
But where's the line? Seduction is all about smoke and mirrors. Consider the arsenal of ammunition a woman employs before a first date: Spanx, fake tan, false eyelashes . . .
The veneer will eventually peel away, of course, like make-up smeared across a pillowcase. In six months he'll be applying said fake tan to the hard-to-reach areas of your back. In six years, he'll be pegging those Spanx to the clothes line.
So why admit to the only form of self-enhancement which can potentially go undiscovered? No doubt it added to your appeal -- why shatter the illusion? He took you at face value -- the fool -- leave it at that.