It’s amazing how the faces of these once extremely attractive women have changed. Clockwise from top left is Olivia Newton-John, Donatella Versace, Dolly Parton, Barbara Streisand, Melanie Griffith, Trudie Styler, Faye Dunaway and Kim Novak.
MailOnline‘s contributor and novelist, Sandra Howard compiled the image collage of the women above in an article explaining why she was weary of women who have had too much cosmetic surgery done on their faces.
Howard who called them “waxwork women” said Olivia’s that shiny visage, Donatella’s lilo lips, Dolly’s stretched cheeks, Barbara’s wrinkle-less profile, Kim Novak’s unbelievable look, Trudie’s and Melanie Griffith’s taut faces and Faye Dunaway unrecognisable appearance, is not a look she wants.
“When I look in the mirror, I see every laughter line accumulated over a lifetime is reflected back. But would I change them in return for a smoother face? Hand on heart, No – just look at these women, the message being that appearance trumps achievement no matter who you are — but respect for the most lauded of stars recedes when vanity is displayed so blatantly.
Don’t misunderstand me; I see nothing wrong with having a little work done. What saddens me most is that these puffy, preternaturally line-free faces suggest deep-rooted insecurity, even unhappiness. The hope is that, with age, grows confidence and a disregard for the petty opinions of others — but not in these cases.
Far from focusing on their latest accolade or back catalogue of glittering successes, all you see is an acute, somewhat demeaning desperation to cling to youth.
Not only is it a blow to all women — the message being that appearance trumps achievement no matter who you are — but respect for the most lauded of stars recedes when vanity is displayed so blatantly.
I’m not devoid of vanity. I increasingly rely on make-up to help me stop looking a total fright. To attempt to belie my age would be like airbrushing out those wonderful milestones. Particularly when I see what the likely alternative would be: a waxy look which wouldn’t look out of place at Madame Tussaud’s.Instead, I’ve discovered the confidence to embrace challenges, alongside a bloody-minded refusal to be cowed by other people’s opinions.
All my life I’ve been a glass-half-full type. In fact, if I weren’t such an eternal optimist, I’m sure I’d beat myself up about it. If I’d not smiled so much and, yes, worried less on occasion, my skin might be smoother with fewer creases and visible crows’ feet.
I understand the pressures on women to remain glamorous — not to mention the silent sadness as your looks fade — but I firmly believe it is perfectly possible to retain a certain je ne sais quoi while resisting the surgeon’s knife.