Trying to Put On a Mask We Can Never Take Off

There is a certain allure of changing one’s identity. From dressing up on Halloween, to wearing an excessive amount of make up “just for fun,” we, particularly as women, are constantly seeking opportunity to try on a new look. As we grow older we are inundated with images telling us to dress up. From the unavoidable multitude of make up and clothing advertisements, to the media messages of “Girls Night Out,” there is always an occasion to consume and change, even just for one day.

The risk of these topical identity treatments is when we want more permanent changes. Perhaps small at first, with dyed hair, bleached teeth, and the addition of false eyelashes, the larger treatments of cosmetic surgery can be detrimental to our actual appearance. As Mitch McCabe asks in her documentary film Make Me Young: Youth Knows No Pain, what kind of life is it to “die without smile lines?” Although a wrinkle may be a sign that we won’t live forever, is that any reason for us to deny our mortality?

Ultimately, our image-driven society does not want to be concerned with the issue of mortality, but rather wants to transform people to be a better version of themselves, or maybe somebody else. As Amanda Fortini points out in her article, “Lines Please,” “there’s a measure of narcissism in the act of viewing … if we can’t see ourselves on screen – or our more ideal selves – movies and TV shows lose much of their allure. The fantasy is no longer real.” We, as audience members expect a level of escapism. We want to see beautiful people, and then want to emulate them, and maybe even become them. Looks have been commodified. You can get Jennifer Aniston’s nose or Angelina Jolie’s lips. Just see a surgeon, or artist, as cosmetic surgery addicts like to view their plastic surgeons.

Interestingly there has been a shift in the world of plastic surgery. Laura Holson’s article “A Little Too Ready for Her Close-Up” examines how the pendulum has swung away from socially accepted cosmetic surgery, even noting that actors are losing opportunities for having had conspicuous work done. So while Virginia Blum points out in her book, Flesh Wounds: The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery that one “can come closer to becoming a celebrity by having [oneself] surgically altered,” this may no longer be acceptable, to any audience (154). The celebrity culture is being forced to reassess their presentation of authentic selves. Although actors are playing a part, that acting experience should be completely of their own merit and ability, not inhibited by the range of expression they can convey as a result of their botox.


Unfortunately, this shift away from socially acceptable cosmetic surgery has placed an increased pressure on a sole acceptance of reconstructive surgery. Plastics are okay to correct the abnormal; or to heal extenuating wounds. The function of plastic surgery is to ensure that people appear in such a manner that is pleasing, at least to a base level, in social situations. As illustrated by the above image from Post Secret, people are desperate to have cosmetic surgery that is for a “reason.” Regrettably, it can be assumed that there are deeper problems weighing on the author of this Post Secret postcard. As Blum explains, the desire for cosmetic surgery is a manifestation of body image disorder; “body parts are the inkblots onto which some people project their discontent” (39). This person may want to be in a car accident to get attention that she doesn’t feel she gets. She needs an extreme event to evoke extreme correcting, presumably both with cosmetic surgery and with the psychological concern that would be expressed by those around her. Because our “beauty culture can be simultaneously coercive and liberating” there is an expectation that one can be freed from themselves by virtually killing the image of their old self and entering into a new, better exterior image (Blum, 51). Ultimately, however, despite “the tension between the lure of ‘false’ images and the feared loss of ‘self’” as explored in John Frankenheimer’s 1966 film, there is a discovery that one can never truly escape their own lives (Blum, 154). A telling example of this is illustrated in McCabe’s subject, Sherry. This 53 year-old woman initially finds solace from her former overweight existence after several procedures of liposuction and breast implants. Fundamentally, however, her struggles are beyond external appearance, and she is again dissatisfied with her appearance with inevitable weight gain. Her internal concerns and insecurities are never acknowledged head on, and she therefore is constantly layering herself with more external and superficial “solutions.”

At its core, this lure of external solutions does not escape the reality of the self. After every “Girl’s Night Out” the girls have to go back to their homes and live with themselves. The appearances fade, the wrinkles and laugh lines appear, and mortality inevitably reveals itself. So what, then, is the true worth of oppressing the inevitable? Is it not better to pursue an internal, more satisfying beauty and self-content than perpetuating a false image that will change despite every effort? Embracing the true self may have more value than constantly rejecting the exterior self.

Works Cited:
Blum, Virginia L. Flesh Wounds: The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2003.

Fortini, Amanda. “Lines, Please.” New York Magazine. Mar 7, 2010. http://nymag.com/movies/feautres/64504/.

Holson, Laura. “A Little Too Ready for Her Close-Up.” NY Times. Apr 23, 2010. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/25/fashion/25natural.html?src=twt&twtnytimesstyle.

McCabe, Mitch, Dir. Make Me Young: Youth Knows No Pain. Cinema Libre Studio: 2009.