The WhatsApp group that I share with my best friends ebbs and flows with conversation. Some weeks there's a constant flurry of chatter—subjects range from prospective new jobs and disastrous dates to the latest TV show we're all binging—and at other times there are quiet whitterings between just two of the eleven members. However, there is one topic that always guarantees to get the entire group talking: Botox.
Since we hit our mid-30s, it has become something that we discuss far more frequently than we ever did before. Of the 11, only one has had the treatment. Which, considering how much we discuss it, is surprising. As the only beauty editor in the group, it might also surprise you to learn that up until two weeks ago, I was one of the ten who hadn't. I have avoided Botox for years, partly down to a needle phobia, partly because I didn't think I was ready. I was always quite happy with a slight crease here and there. But then a year ago, I really noticed a dramatic shift, not just in my skin, but the way I felt about it too. I obsessed over the deep 11 lines in between my brows, even after a decent night's sleep, I somehow always looked tired, and it seemed that my face, much like my boobs, had decided it was time to really embrace gravity. Where before I had been ambivalent, suddenly I was an enthusiastic contributor to the Botox chat.
