Danny Ghitis for The New York Times
When I saw the large photograph of Dr. Fredric Brandt, the
“King of Collagen” on the front of last Sunday’s New York Times Styles section, I was startled by the image of an
expressionless face with red over-puffed lips and a gold halo around his head
like that of a saint on a Greek Orthodox icon.
My first thought was that it was Bruce Jenner, father to the
Kardashian klan, who seems to be turning from a man into a woman with the help
of cosmetic fillers and plastic surgery.
But no, it was an article on dermatologist Fredric Brandt,
who is evidently the leading doctor of choice with celebrities like Madonna and
Stephanie Seymour, thanks to his ability to keep them looking ageless. According to The Times, “Dr. Brandt is the designated magician responsible for
keeping faces both well known and otherwise in states of extraordinary
preservation. …The 64-year-old physician acts as the syringe-wielding wizard
responsible for using techniques like his signature Y lifts—in which fillers
are injected below the cheekbones—to hold back time for any number of
supermodels, trophy wives, celebrities and industrial titans of either sex.”
The author of the article, Guy Trebay, responded to a
comment by Dr. Brandt that some Hollywood stars want to cut too soon, to
overfill, “When there’s too much pulling, too many procedures, you lose the
softness along with the personality of the face…” by asking him if he felt his
experiments on himself had produced that effect. Brandt replied, “People think
I look pretty good.”
Now I’m not in a position to criticize people for using
cosmetic surgery, since I’ve written several articles for Vogue magazine on the
subject of my two facelifts over the past 20 years and a go-around with “Fraxel:
Repair” laser treatment five years ago. (I’m now 73.). But my gut reaction to The Times’ photograph of Dr. Brandt was that he’d be an ideal
candidate to play a vampire in one of those films that have become so popular
recently. His skin is so taut and his face so pale (except for the red puffy
lips) that he seems embalmed.
This was much like the reaction my husband had to the sight
of Kim Novak in her much-discussed appearance at the Oscars. (I missed it, but looked her up later. The problem that both Kim Novak and Dr.
Brandt seem to have is: too much filler
and too much Botox, eliminating all the expression lines that make a face
individual.)
On Sunday I saw the article on Brandt, then on Tuesday I looked
up the reactions on-line to the piece. I
wondered if I was the only one appalled by the famous doctor’s work on himself,
but after reading 106 comments, I learned that the vast majority of the
reactions echo my thoughts—that the doctor’s appearance is “super creepy” and,
as one person wrote. “When a doctor
can't even perceive his own disfigurement, how could you possibly trust his
aesthetic decisions?”
Monday night, on the Turner Classic Movie channel, I saw an hour-long interview
with Eva Marie Saint, talking about her life in films and the leading men and
directors she’s worked with. She said
straight out that she was 88 years old (and has been married to the same man
for over 60 years.) People, she’s turning 90 on July 4, 2014!
I
thought she looked wonderful—she had wrinkles, sure, but they were nice wrinkles. I can’t tell you if she’s had any “work”
done, but her neck did have the turkey wattle effect that is so hard to
avoid. I remembered Eva Marie Saint
vividly from her role in “On the Waterfront” with Marlon Brando. It was her first film and she won an Oscar
for it in 1954, when I was 13. It was a shock to see once again in the clips
from the film what a young, innocent, almost vulnerable girl she appeared. But now, at 88, she was confidant, vivacious,
funny, smart and she moved with youthful grace—all of which made her seem much
younger than her years.
I
listened avidly to what she said about her life, hoping to catch some clues as
to how she remained so vital. One thing
she emphasized was: “You have to walk
every day—walk for an hour every single day!”
It was also a matter of genes—her mother had lived into her
nineties. And she remarked several times
that she had a very happy childhood and a long, loving marriage to a husband
who was a director—and thus understood her art as an actress. But she felt that if she had married a fellow
actor—or a lawyer or doctor—there might have been a clash of egos that would
doom the marriage.
First
I heard about all the plastic surgery digs on the social networks during the
Oscars, then last weekend I read about Dr. Brandt and saw the results of his
work. Finally, after marveling at how Eva Marie Saint has maintained her verve
and beauty for 88 years, I think it’s time for me to stop fighting.
In
the last year or so I’ve acquired those fine crepe-y wrinkles around the mouth
and eyes. Everyone knows that people
like me, with fair skin and blue eyes, wrinkle sooner and worse than those with
darker skin, but I’ve decided to let time take its toll without further
cosmetic intervention---except, maybe, just a teensy, tiny shot of Botox
between the eyebrows now and then, when I notice that those frown lines are back,
making me look perpetually angry.
