plastic/cosmetic surgery boom was just another reminder
of the whirlwind changes that have taken place in
Korean society over the past two decades. After all,
college girls were only beginning to experiment with
cosmetics in the early 1980s.
This cover story inspired me to make cosmetic
surgery the topic of an in-class composition for my
writing class, especially because most of my students
are young ladies. Given the time limit (two hours) for
an in-class composition, the topic should be of human
interest so students can begin writing without having to
do too much brainstorming and detailed planning. No
one was at a loss for words when it came to writing
about cosmetic surgery.
While many students looked upon the cosmetic
surgery boom and all it entails with a jaundiced eye,
there was a consensus that such surgery is simply a
personal choice. And rather than sneering at those who
choose surgery, most students said that if it makes you
feel better about yourself, then by all means have it
done. They reserved their strongest criticism for a "cruel
society" that "pressures" women to alter themselves to
satisfy the current dictates of the job or marriage
market.
What struck me as I read the compositions were 1)
how common cosmetic surgery is, and 2) the stress that
young women undergo to conform in this
hyper-competitive society.
Getting eyelids altered, for example, is so common
it barely qualifies as cosmetic surgery nowadays. And
when I gave a student a quizzical look during a
classroom discussion after she said "80 % of her
friends" had undergone surgery, other girls nodded in
agreement, saying they were often the only ones among
their friends who had not had it done. Even though
these girls were putting off surgery, they said it was
compelling since they all knew former "ugly
ducklings" whose surgery had turned them into raving
beauties with numerous suitors.
I expect Seoul will soon become like Mexico City,
where young bourgeois women meet at posh coffee
shops to celebrate a friend's return from surgery.
Rather than disappear for the customary 10 days until
the bandages, black eyes, and swelling from a "nose
job" are gone, this senorita proudly exhibits herself and
revels in her status as a new member of the club. I do
know a Korean woman, in fact a medical doctor, who
was not so forthcoming, telling me that her recent nose
job was the consequence of being hit by a golf ball.
Gimme a break.
Two other common student concerns were the
legacy of this cult of beauty on the next generation, and
the role of the fashion and cosmetics industry in
perpetuating the cult. What choice is there for the
adolescent daughter who desires her mother's surgically
enhanced looks? And what sort of Pandora's box is
being opened by parents who give their daughters
surgery as a high school graduation gift?
Isn't it curious that American black girls, a
demographic virtually ignored by the advertising
industry, are generally satisfied and much more
comfortable with their physical appearance than
suburban white girls, the target of numerous marketing
ploys aimed at seducing them into believing that they,
too, can be a cover girl? Sound familiar?
Students also wrote of insufferable mothers telling
less than perfect daughters that their futures are bleak
unless they undergo cosmetic surgery. I'm sorry, but
isn't it mommy's role to say, "Of course you're pretty,
my little darling?" And then there was the mother from
hell who "dragged" her teenaged daughter into a clinic,
where "she [the daughter] kicked and screamed and
was held down by ten nurses" until the surgery was
performed. "To this day she has no self-esteem and
thinks she is ugly."
Women have been enhancing their natural beauty
with cosmetics since at least the days of the ancient
Egyptians. (Liz Taylor wore tons of the stuff in
CLEOPATRA.) So I don't think it's too difficult of a
decision for women, especially those who put on
cosmetics daily, to choose surgery. Why go through the
daily hassle of putting a line across each eyelid when
after very simple surgery they're permanent?
I also believe cosmetic surgery is quite normal in
the feminine scheme of things. "Vanity," said the bard,
"thy name is woman." What is abnormal is deluding
yourself into believing that a visit to a surgeon can turn
you into the self-confident person you always wanted to
be. However, facial alterations, according to most
accounts, do work magic on women's psyches.
A case in point: One coed wrote that for some
inexplicable reason she began to "hate my face" and
"stayed home in bed for a month crying my eyes out."
Crying was getting her nowhere; so she decided to
change the color of her hair and, presto, she became a
self-confident woman. Since there is absolutely nothing
wrong with this girl's perfectly attractive face, perhaps
she should have replaced crying her eyes out with
SMILING.
Should anyone with a similar silly notion be reading
this essay, don't be so self-critical. Maybe all you need
to do is smile a bit more.
This University enrolls all sorts of movie and TV
stars, singers and super-models, and wannabes. Some
of them attend my classes. My usual private reaction
to their obvious surgical makeovers is, BORING. They
have traded away what was unique about their faces for
bland, nondescript visages. And how sad it was indeed
to read of a student who rues the day she got her nose
job and pines in vain for her old nose.
There's this joke going around American
universities: "Now that you've got your BA, MA, and
PhD, all you need is a JOB." The punch line could be
"cosmetic surgery" at Korean universities. For it's
patently unfair that after years of jumping through all
the academic hoops Korea throws at you, going abroad
for an expensive year of English study, getting a high
TOEIC score, and acquiring computer skills, your
success in the job market now may depend on
expensive cosmetic surgery that you don't need, can't
afford, but think you can't do without. And isn't it
time you went on a starvation diet? I'd be thinking
about emigration.
Sherbo leesj117@dongguk.edu
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