All I ever wanted was a defined jawline. Some slight definition so that my face doesn’t just slide straight into my neck and I look like a turtle. I would look at my side profile and reel that I didn’t have a good bone structure, and ascertained that I could be a humble 8 if I had just been blessed with slightly better genetics.
So my grandpa died and left me some money. Quite a lot of money. Money that would, I thought in a moment of utter madness, buy me the face I wanted. I booked in my online consultation and had a surge of sudden excitement as I pictured them plonking some filler, bish bosh, into the sides of my jaw. It was about 400 pounds for a syringe, the grand total coming in at just under a grand. That was all right, I could do that.
Turns out, you cant just put filler into the jaw, it would look weird. To make it look even slightly natural and balanced, the good-looking practitioner said id have to put filler in my chin, jaw, cheeks, and a wee bit in my temple(?) Fuck. That brings the total up to nearly two grand. Slightly sweating and but already caught up in the buzz I tentatively agreed to these numerous syringes to be put into my face, which turned out to be five in total.
Not going to lie, I was pretty nervous as I hovered outside the surgery waiting to be called into the building. Id even said to my mum that it was a complete waste of money and I didn’t want to do it anymore, but here I was, dallying around the Kings Road, London.
As I arrived at the surgery the practitioner was having a meltdown at the receptionist. A full-on ‘you’ve ruined everything, how stupid can you be not to start filming when I told you to IDIOT’ sort of meltdown. As I shuffled nervously wondering if I could dart off unnoticed, his whole demeanour changed when he noticed me by the door. He became a smiley teddy bear, walked me through what he was going to do, and asked if I could be the main feature in his TikTok. Meh, alright.
I sat taking ‘before’ photos for a good part of an hour. I wished I hadn’t agreed to be plastered all over their social media because A) no one knew about these fillers except my mum and B) oh my god just put some shit in my face and let me go.
The feeling of getting fillers is what I imagine injecting wet concrete in your face is like. You can feel it ooze into your skin, and sometimes the doctor pushes it up your face with a hanky (externally, of course). That doesn’t feel like your being stroked with a feather. The chin was the most painful part, I have a good pain threshold and was struggling. I was also being filmed while this was all happening (to be in their stupid TikTok) so I put on the bravest face I could and acted like it was a mere pinch. Fucking wasn’t.
Then it was time for the big reveal (of course, filmed). They dramatically whipped away the cloth from the mirror and I stared disbelievingly at my reflection. Are. You. Joking. I literally looked no different. How had I wasted all this money and time on something that made me look, at a pinch, the slightest bit better? ‘you look well’ someone might say that I hadn’t seen since pre-lockdown. I wanted to look WOW, not well. Sensing my disappointment, the doctor urged me not to put any more fillers in my face as it wouldn’t look natural as my face was at maximum capacity and to come back and see him in 6 months.
I trudged home, defeated. This was not supposed to happen, I was SUPPOSED to come out looking like Francesca Farago from Too Hot To Handle. Not a slightly enhanced version of me. To make matters worse, I got home to my Mum who was pretty boozy and she consistently made fun of me for looking the same for around 4 hours. Getting to the end of my tether I penned a very snarky email to the doctors, saying I couldn’t see the slightest bit of difference and I was very disappointed. I know, moving like a true Karen.
However the next day I woke up feeling better. It wasn’t a massive difference, yes, but it was some. And I DID look better and was starting to feel more confident. I took a few selfies of my side profile and there was definition to my jaw and my cheekbones did now catch the light more so than before. No, it wasn’t an excellent purchase – but I did feel better about my appearance than I had before.
So I guess the moral of the story is, fillers hurt and make you look marginally better. Would I get them again? No.