"Pandemic triggers boom in plastic surgery"? But of course...

I must admit that I've been doing a bit of impulse buying of late. 

Sick of my boring (and non-washable) place mats, I ordered a new set (plus napkins) from Wayfair. 

Wayfair always has just what I need, so since I was even sicker of the chrome upstairs bathroom soap dispenser, which was oogily rusting,I ordered a new soap dispenser.

I'm seriously considering replacing the area rug in my den with something a little less cheapo. And I'm deciding whether my 100 year old mahogany dining set needs to go. Nothing against mahogany - I like this set just fine - but I've never been much for furniture polishing, and every time I lean back in one of the chairs, I hear a crack. So far, a jar of Gorilla Glue and a jar of Old English Lemon Oil have been my only recent dining room set related buys (other than the new place mats and napkins), but I've begun checking out tables and chairs and trying to justify this magnitude of purchase.

So I know that the stir-craziness of pandemic lock-down - however quasi that lock-down is in its present state - can give you the urge for doing a bit of shopping. And think of all that money we're not spending going out to eat. Burning virtual holes in our virtual pockets. Why not treat ourselves to a little something or other?

But treat myself to a bit of plastic surgery? 

Even though when I come in from my walk, I catch my reflection in the lobby mirror and note that I seem to be getting shorter and squatter by the day, and that all the pandemic-related snacking has certainly done wonders for expanding my muffin top, I hadn't really thought about spending any of my COVID savings on liposuction or frozen sculpting treatment.

And now that I've given it some thought, it's a hard - okay, make that flabby - "No."

But Jocelyn - not her real name - a 25-year old NYC actress came to a different conclusion when she found she'd packed on a few lbs:

‘‘I wasn’t able to spend as much money as I would have normally, on eating out or shopping excessively,’’ she says.

As a result of her unhealthy weight and healthier bank balance, Jocelyn splurged on cosmetic surgery; in her case, it was an AirSculpt treatment, a body-contouring alternative to liposuction.

‘‘I got it done on a Wednesday, filmed a commercial that same Friday, and right after, went on a date, because I looked freaking amazing and I darn sure wasn’t going to be the only person to see it,’’ she says. (Source: Bloomberg via the Boston Globe)

"Jocelyn" is not alone, which means that demand is up for Botox, butt lifts, and everything else a pandemic-weary nation wants and needs. 

Some of this is business spurt is due to pent up demand. After all, even in the most lax of states, Botox injectors couldn't have been considered essential workers. So they experienced a shutdown in those dark early days. But there's also new demand, as all the pandemic-inspired navel gazing is causing folks to look above and beyond their navel and take a closer look at their overall appearance. And apparently not liking what their seeing. Thus one NY surgeon is experiencing major growth in requests for breast reduction. (Could this be the result of so many work-at-homies unhooking their bras for the duration?)

The surgeons benefiting from all this have different explanations. 

One attributes it to the "quarantine 15", and the desire to shed those unwelcome pounds fast. Others say that all that Facetiming, all that Zooming, has made folks more conscious of defects like a double chin. According to one doc who does a lot of vanity surgery, "the double-chin business" - and who even knew there was such a thing - "has skyrocketed."

Then there's this, from Dr. Lara Devgan, a New York plastic surgeon who's business is booming:

‘‘There’s something inherently unflattering about a 30-degree, angled-upward, forward-facing camera on a laptop,’’ Devgan explains. ‘‘I had one patient, who was previously just happy with Botox and fillers, proceed with a face and neck lift as a result of being on endless streams of Zoom calls. She saw jowls and neck folds she’d never appreciated before quarantine.’’

Having the time and privacy to recover at home from cosmetic surgery is also a driver. There's something called the Plasma Pen.  

The procedure, often used to erase smoker’s lines around the mouth, results in scabbing that last 10 days or so. Amid widespread mask-wearing, the scabs need never be seen.

Same goes for those looking to plump their lips or resurface whatever plane of their body bothers them.

One person interviewed for the article had a number of small procedures, thanks to her stimulus check and unemployment compensation. 

I don't suppose tossing money at plastic surgery is all that much more ridiculous than my going all-in for a new veggie cutting board. But it does strike me that this sort of superficial appearance-focus when so many tens of thousands are dying, when millions more are ill, when there are so many unemployed, all those small businesses thrown for a loop, and a truly terrible person in the White House doing his damnedest to destroy the country, seems a bit misplaced. 

Guess we'll just have to chalk it up to one more example of American exceptionalism.