Khloe Kardashian's "unwanted photo" is a sign of our cultural sickness

Apparently, the Kardashian team is working frantically, issuing legal threats...over an "unwanted" photo of Khloe Kardashian.

Call me old-fashioned, but she looks better in the first picture. Adorable, actually. She has a sweet-looking face and she looks happy. In the second, she looks hardened. I'm distracted by the fact that there's too much duck lip with more plastic than an inflatable raft. Don't put the Kardashians near an open flame, they'll melt.

I wrote a novel some years ago that was a comment on our grotesque obsession with celebrities and reality TV. I was clearly ahead of the curve and should have saved it for the Instagram age. (I actually began writing it the year Instagram debuted but, personally, had no idea what Instagram was. I have Instagram now because I felt like it was practically a requirement for a radio host by 2018, the year I got an account.) I had my own version of the Kardashian family in my novel, and the Khloe character was meant to be the only likeable one--because frankly, on TV, she was. But apparently her main reputation with people who follow celebrities was "the ugly one." All of the Kardashians began destroying their faces years ago, and I thought she might be the lone holdout against this insanity. I was wrong: she has a new face now, too. Listen, I love makeup, and I'll pile it on if I feel like it. I don't go out in my pajamas. You can pry my black eyeliner from my cold, dead hands. But even I feel like we have gone completely over the cliff with the cosmetic procedures: the lip injections, the Botox, and every celebrity and Bachelor contestant eventually getting the same fake pinch nose everyone else has.

I understand the lure of cosmetic procedures. I never thought of myself as a person with an eating disorder, but looking back, in my 20s, I was. I was dating a college football player with his own insecurities about his size--he was of mixed-race ancestry and well over 300 pounds--and a misogyny problem. I went months barely eating carbohydrates, sometimes until I literally collapsed and someone had to bring me an emergency Coke or orange juice from the college vending machine. I wouldn't cool it with the tanning, to the point I had severe damage that had to be corrected with prescription medications. My teeth and hair kept getting more and more bleached.

But I eventually lost the guy and (for the most part) the compulsive self-improvement. But you can't ignore something that's ubiquitous. I couldn't ignore the "eyelash salons" popping up at every chic outdoor mall in my area. I even modeled eyelash extensions for a while. (That’s right, I’m an “eye model.”) I was bemused to see them marketed as a “natural” alternative to just wearing mascara and eyeliner. Apparently, paying a minimum of $250 every few weeks to have strands of mink hair glued to your eyelids is totally natural. (At least mine were free.)

In reality, eyelash extensions are absurd and dangerous. Your immune system doesn’t like them, they pull out your natural lashes as they come off, and trust me, they do not look as natural as you think. (Every time I see a woman with “subtle” eyelash extensions, I think, “well, those are some nice fake lashes.") Women are literally being encouraged to dump that icky makeup and just get cosmetic surgery already, such as lip injections, eyebrow microblading, eyelash extensions, and Botox. It looks horrible and I could make a list of minor celebrities who have destroyed their faces this way. The beauty industry is now suggesting injecting “permanent foundation” into your face so you can look “naturally” flawless. Natural?

I’m proud to say I have not had a single cosmetic procedure, ever—no microblading, injections, any of that crap. (Although at age 20 I did get my teeth filed down to be slightly shorter because I didn’t like them.) I wear makeup, and plenty of it. I do not look the same without it. It’s pretty obvious what I look like without: like a colorless Irish broad with some freckles and sun damage. I’ve posted pictures of it. I don’t pretend to think it looks better; it is what it is. I used to get comments on how I must really love that mascara and eyeliner, and it was a bit much. (Personally, I look back and think the violet blush was a bit much, although I still love my fuschias and violets.) Now I have guys telling me it's nice to see a girl with real eyelashes for once.

It's time to start pushing back against the cosmetic procedure craze. My third great-grandfather William Chambers (also known as Tylor Mor, or "the big man") was a Civil War soldier and the hero of my upcoming novel. He came home with half his face paralyzed from botulism. His right eye never returned to normal, and he went around for years with a Dan Crenshaw-style eye patch. He said he was just grateful the botulin toxin didn't paralyze his limbs...or his lungs.

Now his great-great-great granddaughters are being told to inject botulin directly into their faces as a little beauty hack in the form of "Botox." It's advertised at my doctor's office, to which I say: Get your bacterial nerve toxin out my face!

No one can convince me Botox is safe. Botulism--the infection you have a 50/50 chance of surviving--is caused by a nerve toxin created by the bacteria. It causes paralysis and widespread, systemic damage, some of which we can see, and some we can't. We're busy worrying about the potential (and probably minimal) side effects of the COVID vaccine. But the cosmetic industry marches merrily on, claiming injecting your face with a nerve toxin so people don't notice your wrinkles is perfectly safe.

I'll pass. I'm not 20 anymore. Maybe the problem is that we expect women to mimic 20-year-old Instagram "influencers" who attribute their beauty to their healthy lifestyles, instead of artful photography and, of course, costly and high-upkeep cosmetic work. It's exhausting. I choose to rest.