Sigh. As I look in the mirror for the upteenth time, I can’t help but focus on the sad hollows that are deepening under my eyes, making me look like the only thing I’m dominating is insomnia.
To add insult to injury, the hollows are topped off with a nice, eggplant-charcoal colour that is really better suited to a pair off kick-ass thigh high boots than my under eyes. “Should I do it?” I ask myself. I reach for my phone to call the well-regarded medispa that reached out to me…offering me youth in a syringe in exchange for promotion. Kardashian-like smoothness and Benjamin Button-ness with a few quick pricks of a needle is only a short phone call away.
N-E-E-D-L-E. That’s all my brain has to register before I drop my phone, my blood running cold at the thought of somebody stabbing me near my eyeballs, depositing some organic substance onto my orbital bone, which could go either way…making me look like I got a year’s worth of sleep, or making me look like poor Jocelyn Wildenstein.
I’m also worried about the “social aspect” of getting plumped up. Surely, someone will notice online or in person, squinting their eyes at me while thinking: “SHE DID IT. OMG. I’M TELLING EVERYONE!” There is also the fact that in my community – the black community – “we don’t do this”. Black don’t crack! You crazeh, boo! Sigh.
I’ve shelved this idea….for now. It will rear its smooth, shiny, hollow-free head again when my silly insecurities get the best of me. For now, I’ll choose the cheaper option of getting more damn sleep and drinking a ton of that stuff that doesn’t taste like Châteauneuf-du-Pape…you know, water.
What are your thoughts on fillers? Have you taken the plunge?