Surgery. Fraxel. Botox. The horror of thick-gel fillers forced down a wide needle.
When Kerri-Anne Kennerley visited Mamamia recently, she didn’t flinch about discussing what plenty of women hate talking about – our faces and what we choose to do to them as we age.
Kerri-Anne told Mia Freedman – and a room full of watching women – that she decided to step-in when she felt like her outsides no longer matched her insides.
“I would wake up every morning with really heavy eyelids… They were getting droopier and droopier. I would look in the mirror and I would look tired without feeling tired. So I had that cut out.
“I’ve had Botox, I don’t like the fillers… It’s like a gel thing and it hurts like hell, so that doesn’t work for me,” she went on.
Listen to Kerri-Anne’s conversation with Mia below. (Post continues after audio…)
There’s nothing revolutionary about any of the things the inimitable, 64-year-old KAK is discussing here. Australian women are sick of being ‘in the closet’ when it comes to both the pressure to ‘stay young’, and the things they’ll do to do so.
But for Gen X feminists like me, leaning in to KAK’s frank discussion of what’s worth splashing your cash on and what’s not, the decision of whether or not to mess with nature is still a confusing, confronting one.
My car radio is always telling me to get something fixed on my face.
On commercial radio, in between Ed Sheeran and Demi Lovato I’m being urged, ‘Embrace your face. Make the most of ageing. Dermal fillers. Only $79.99 a ml.’
On this morning’s drive, Bigger Lips were sponsoring the news. Smoother skin was in every ad break. And best-deal on fillers followed the weather.
It feels like a recent development that cosmetic injectables are so mainstream they’re being served up in the car at 7am. They’re the subject of every second Groupon deal, and spelled out in peeling transfer letters from every second suburban salon window. BOTOX, FILLERS, JUVEDERM – $$$$$$$$$$.
My ageing face can’t take it. Seriously. Some days it’s like my wrinkles are actively trying to stretch towards the nice lady with the needle. But my face is at war with my brain, which tells me that women with visible pores and crows’ feet are still interesting, energetic, creative beings.
It didn’t used to be like this. Once upon a time, you were young and unlined, puffy and smooth. And then you weren’t.