The first time someone dares mention Botox, it’s often done in a whisper: “Who do you go to? Is it safe? Look at these lines, don’t you think I need it?” Like smoking weed or playing poker, introduction to the botulinum toxin is akin to an admission into a secret society – one with its own rituals and language that can act as a gateway into far more precarious pursuits.
I first got jabbed three years ago when I was 26, which my older colleagues tell me feels alarmingly young. It is, but it’s also alarmingly not abnormal, with the UK’s Department of Health estimating that as many as 41,000 Botox procedures were given to people who weren’t even 18 yet before this was made illegal in 2021. Use of the toxin is considerably higher among my generation than the population as a whole, with 13 per cent of Brits aged 25-34 having had wrinkle-relaxants, compared to a national average of just 7 per cent.
