It may come off sounding all holier than thou but my reasons have nothing to do with vanity or judging the motives of other people. Mainly, I am a coward and there is no way I would put myself through unnecessary medical procedures, especially when they seem to so often go wrong.
A scary thing is how accessible the whole industry has become. Whereas a few years ago, cosmetic procedures were whispered about and carried out in private clinics, which were presumably registered with some sort of medical body, most of us now have local salons which offer botox and other such treatments. I can only assume carried out by hair stylists or beauticians, who have been on a 'day release course' in order to acquire full medical accreditation.
Now don't get me wrong, I am as vain as the next person. A large proportion of my salary disappears each month on having my hair bleached and highlighted, God forbid a stray grey hair should show through. And I wouldn't be seen dead without make-up or maybe that should read I look dead without make-up. On the rare occasion I have ventured out au naturel, I have illicited such concern for my health, I can only deduce that I look like a walking corpse. Let's face it, none of us want to get any older but all of this nonsense is surely a step too far.
Look at how many actresses, all previously beautiful women, now look like stroke victims, or worse as though they are in the throes of a terrible allergic reaction, with their swollen, puffed up, shiny faces. And this seems to be the crux of the issue; nobody thinks that they look like their more youthful, former selves. They just look odd.
Likewise in real life. At the gym, when I see women sporting their large, hard, unnatural bosoms, I don't wonder how they have maintained their youthful figures because the implants are there for everybody to see. The over-large, perfect, Hollywood teeth that everyone seems suddenly to be flashing just make me wonder how many hours they spent pinned in the dentist's chair. Nobody thinks the person with the perpetual tan lives an exciting life on a sunkissed shore because we all know that it's out of a bottle or even worse a tanning booth.
So what are we striving for? Are we trying to create an illusion of the perfect life because, if we are, everybody knows it's fake. Are we so riddled with self doubt that we need to create better versions of ourselves? Or maybe we have been told so many times that ageing is bad that we are too stupid to see the alternative is worse.
Whatever it is, I am not buying into it. I'm sticking with my wrinkles and less than perfect body and to hell with it. Mind you, I refuse to go grey. I love grey hair on other people but I am not ready. I just can't do it!