* READ THE IMPORTANT NOTE BELOW.
At what point in history did people start to consider wrinkles to be ugly? It makes no sense. In my opinion, wrinkles add character. Although, that might merely be a handy rationalization. I have only a couple of years left on the birth side of 70 years old. My upcoming shift to the death side of that milestone doesn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. And my wrinkles don’t bother me at all.
I haven’t seen any studies, nor have I taken any measurements of my own facial creases, but I suspect that I have the average number and size of wrinkles for a man my age; plus or minus 18.76 percent, 19 times out of 20. I may have a few more than my share. Maybe a few less. I don’t care.
Perhaps my lack of concern is a guy thing. However, if a general lack of anxiety is a guy thing then I should have been on a steady intravenous testosterone drip since I was a wee lad. Wrinkles are one of the exceptionally few things I don’t worry about.
Wrinkles Happen
My point is, wrinkles happen. Get over it.
Wrinkles have been widely frowned upon, so to speak, for as long as I can remember and probably a lot longer. I don’t know why. More importantly, I don’t understand why anyone despises wrinkles so much so as to seek out a doctor who intentionally, and with informed consent, injects the patient with botulinum toxin. That’s the poison responsible for botulism. It’s also what they make Botox from.
According to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control’s (CDC), it and other government agencies maintain a stock of antitoxin against botulism. It is comforting to know there is a treatment for the treatment for wrinkles.
Wrinkles in the Marketing Plan
Beyond the question of why some people eagerly consent to injections of a toxin for purely cosmetic reasons, there are also marketing issues that I don’t understand.
I have an MBA. When getting that degree, I specialized in marketing. That background leads me to expect the maker of Botox to downplay the fact that its product contains botulinum toxin. I would have expected the producer to list that ingredient somewhere on the packaging that is difficult to find. And to print it in the smallest, most hard-to-read font that regulators allow.
That’s not the case. A picture of the Botox packaging that I found on the web displays “Botulinum Toxin Type A” in fairly large letters right below the Botox brand.
(Sotto voce: Botulism Toxin)
In addition to trying to hide the product’s contents, I would also expect the manufacturer to come up with a name that doesn’t even hint that the product contains botulinum toxin. Something like, say, Silkulence (silky skin for the opulent set) for a high-priced brand would do the trick. (True, I don’t think it makes skin silky; just flat. But “Flatulence” doesn’t set the right tone.) Or Fred’s Fabulous Furrow Flattener (no explanation necessary) for a low-priced brand.
But no, the manufacturer used a name, Botox, that almost shrieks botulinum toxin. I don’t get that. You’ve got to admire the honesty of Allergan, the maker of Botox. But I’m amazed that people agree to be injected with something that is named Botox and clearly indicates that it contains botulinum toxin.
Gender Differences?
I don’t know the numbers, but the usual stereotype suggests that women seek this treatment more frequently than men. If that’s true, women can be forgiven their folly. Considering that it is mostly men who start wars, murder, rape and pillage, women are entitled to a little insanity to call their own. They have a long way to go to catch up to us on that score.
Gateway Drug?
As I mentioned above, I’m a major worrier by nature. So, I naturally have anxieties about other people’s use of Botox purely for minor cosmetic purposes.
Yes, I know it’s out of character, but I fret only about other people’s use. I don’t worry about my use of Botox for cosmetic purposes[i] because it isn’t going to happen unless terrorists kidnap me and inject me with Botox against my will. (Damn! There’s something else for me to worry about.)
Despite a list of potential side effects that sound frightening to me, such as trouble breathing and the spread of toxin effects beyond the injection site, the treatment seems to be reasonably safe in its cosmetic use. Be that as it may, one of my concerns is whether the long-term effects of Botox have been adequately studied.
For example, do we yet know if it is a gateway drug to other, more harmful, poisons? For example, if you get hooked on Botox will it eventually no longer satisfy your needs? And, if not, will you then move on to injecting anthrax, tetanus, and ricin under your skin to get rid of persistent forehead furrows? Where will it all end?
This is the kind of stuff that keeps me awake at night.
NOTES:
[i] There are other listed uses of Botox—including treating blepharospasm, cervical dystonia, chronic migraine, overactive bladder, neurologic disease, strabismus, and upper limb spasticity—that sound much less vanity-based to me than getting rid of wrinkles. A doctor might at some point make a strong enough case for me to consider being treated with Botox for one of those conditions should it develop in me.
Botox is also used to treat severe underarm sweating. Let me think. Toxin … sweat … toxin … sweat. Hmmm. Tough choice. I think I’ll keep my arms tightly at my side so my underarms are never visible and replace my shirts more frequently.
* IMPORTANT NOTE: I have never read or heard of Botox causing botulism. People whose neuroses don’t consume their lives probably justifiably have a lower level of angst over these sorts of things than I do.
