“Have you had work done?” I blurted out to my friend as we opened our menus and sipped our wine.
I hadn’t seen her in quite a few months and she looked noticeably different to me.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Some filler!” “No way!” I replied. “It looks so natural! That’s really good work.”
And then we talked about her face for the next 10 minutes.
I do not know where to place this on the spectrum of feminism. Or friendship. Or what it means to be a woman in 2017. I just know that as I head towards my 46th birthday, these conversations are part of my life now. It’s not all my friends and I talk about by any stretch but the subject of injectables and ‘work’ comes up not irregularly. About famous women, about women we know and about ourselves.
Work? No work? Too much work? Good work? Should I have work? Have you had work? Who did your work?
