Frilly Keane is back!

Has she had some work done?

Frilly writes:

So, a few weeks ago I was on a ‘work’ weekender thing. You know, bar on check-in, chicken supper cabaret dance, residents bar, followed by a whole day of motions n’ shyte n’ freebies n’ stuff, then the free bar, the gropey dinner dance, and then more residents bar networking; the you’sh.

And of course I’m suited and booted through it all; hair and nails done, bits done; well you never know. Anyway, on these long-day late-nighters, I use a thing call Beauty Flash Balm to keep the paint work together and in some way manageable without constant touching up.

It’s like a primer in a way – it smooths out all the rough spots and holds the next layer of paint perfectly.

But when you do your nightly scrub off; your face literally falls away into a limp flaccid useless organ; until the following day when you do it all again and this stuff pulls it all together and firms it up as much as it can; and after a few days detox and rest everything goes back to normal.

But not this time; and a few nights after when I took my face off I found a crack.

The crack is traveling from the edge of my lips, between upper and lower, and sloping down. And is now followed by a mirror image on the other side. And it was all so sudden.
And I’m not coping with it. I have it in my head now that I’m dribbling.

I would insist I’m not vain and I know I’m not afraid of getting old; I just can’t not notice them.

So what happened next just started off with a quick search about fillers; and within 3 hours I was having conversations with three different clinics; and have actually being diagnosed, Marionette Lines. Incidentally all three clinics are on a direct bus route from my gaff.

Anyway, it all got very real and then as if I wasn’t already being ridiculous, it got even more ridiculous.

Like an eejit I filled out an online form, gave them what ye just got about the cracks, and now mentioned the vertical crevice kindly hidden by the bridge of my glasses; which I now know is a Glabellar Line.

Within 24 hours, clinics in Barcelona, Prague, Wroclaw and Szczecin – they’re both in Poland btw, and another one in Holland were in touch with their fancy and well-presented websites.

Suddenly I was now considering Lipo as they all have a 2- for-1 and other discounts on bundles, and was now learning about the package deals they all offer.

Then I was being introduced to my Personal Assistant for my stay and surgery. Then the surgeons themselves were contacting me for photographs of the mentioned worksites. Even through WhatsApp, and, no word of a lie as I type this, Arthur in Szczecin for Dr Osadowska is sending me pictures of “real Patients” and links to LipoLife3G demos.

Interestingly, three of the clinics advised that my Health Insurance was a possible payment option, along with interest free payment plans. And I have now been offered a 10% additional discount from Anna if I book beforeh June 30

It’s all being made so doable and why not-able; and d’ya know what, why shouldn’t it?

Why shouldn’t I invest further in personal appearance? I already get my roots done every 5-6 weeks, I get mani – pedis, facials, waxed, massages, and like to shop, whether I need another pair of shoes or another work shirt or not.

I invest in my profession, skills and my practice. I NCT the car and replace it with a newer one every 5’ish years and I maintain a totally avoidable yet expensive Personal Grooming regime.

Like, if there’s a cream, serum or scrub for it, I have it. It’s not Vanity. Not a bit’ve it. Its maintenance. I’m not enhancing an’ting I’m just fixing stuff.

If a crack appeared over the front door of the house you’d get it sorted.

So what’s stopped me, or at least delayed me picking a surgeon and booking the flights.

Me. The sheer indulgence of spending €2.5 – 3k on meself, when there’s school fees, ‘van fees, new tyres needed, renovations, ara’ the list goes on, brings on a guilt that I can only describe as a pure Me Fein that I’m very uncomfortable with.

And something someone said to me lately “its not about you” probably secures the guilt.

Secondly; the imposition of being out of action for some time, for what is simply an electable set of procedures is just not fair on work and home.

And finally, I don’t want to do it on my own; despite the availability of a Personal Assistant. I don’t want to be sore and drugged and on my own, and I definitely don’t want to be in a departure lounge swollen, bruised, and weary, on my own; more selfish self-interest I suppose.

So surgery is ruled out; for now. Unless I win the lotto then all bets are off.

But I’m definitely getting fillers. Don’t ask what ones, or what clinic etc.

So if ye’re all wondering, like, what to get me for the biggie; all these local clinics sell gift vouchers.

Frilly-new-face on the way; an’ with a bitta luck by the first Sunday in September, it’ll be like I only left Cork yesterday.

Frilly keane’s column usually appears here on the first Friday of every month. Follow Frilly on Twitter: @frillykeane