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2008/06/01 14h30 GMT
We may still balk at the raising numbers of cosmetic procedures being carried out in the UK, even more so when we learn those figures are now being plumped out with a new wave of male patrons.
Yet according to the British Association of Aesthetic Surgeons, the past five years have seen an unprecedented rise of 300 per cent in the number of men undergoing cosmetic surgery, and clinics report that one in ten patients requesting Botox is now male. But what is the reality of getting such treatment done? GQ sent three ordinary willing(ish) participants to test the waters of the country’s favourite agebusting remedies.
Tried & tested by Stephen Armstrong
I’ve always had a resistance to Botox Injecting a medieval plaque into your face seems like the decadent collapse of Western civilisation. But it’s supposed to make you look younger, so I visited the London Clinic for an appointment with Mrs Dalia Nield, a plastic surgeon, who got me to frown before talking a photo. Ye gods, I was a monobrow Neanderthal.
Sixty units of toxins were shot into my glabella (the muscle that pulls a frown) and I was told it would take effect in three to ten days. That afternoon I felt fuzzy headed, regretting it. But ten days later everyone said how relaxed I looked. And no one guessed I’d
had something done.
The dose lasts four months. And you know what scares me? With the threat of a returning monobrow, I’m seriously considering having it done again.
Tried & tested by Garth Spencer
Believe it or not, when asked to have trichloroacetic acid applied to my face – which causes the skin to fall off, allowing younger skin to be exposed – I jumped at the chance. At 27, I’m no typical fodder for such aesthetic adventures, but I was something
I’d been looking into for some time. I was treated by Mr Bryan Mayou, from London’s Cadogan Clinic. I expected burning, but it was more of an uncomfortable menthol sensation.
There was a 14-day recovery period during which the skin peeled off. After two weeks my acne scarring and sun damage had vanished and my skin was more refined. This could be the start of something….
Chemical peels from £600. 120 Sloane Street, London SW1. 020 7901 8500.
Tried & tested by David Annand
Am I going to look like Lesley Ash at the end of this? This was my first question when it was mooted that I might be a suitable
candidate for microdermabrasion.
Reassuringly, the answer was an unambiguous no, and so I trotted down to Harley Street in good spirits to get my skin buffed and
burnished.
As it turned out, I had to nothing to worry about. The SilkPeel treatment uses the latest crystalfree technology to scrape off and suck up dead skin, the grooming equivalent of having your house sandblasted. If, that is, sandblasting was a cheap option that took 20 minutes and was administered by a lovely nurse not some chap called Keith who pees on the loo seat.
The smoothness of the skin won’t change much, but for those with acne scars or hyperpigmentation the effects can be dramatic. I had
an area of lunar-like dried skin efficiently and painlessly dispatched in just a few minutes.
The redness lasted only an hour, all of which convinced me that microdermabrasion is a good first port of call for those in need of a
membrane makeover.
