I am scheduled for my very first plastic surgery next week.
It all started while riding a bus in Seoul last winter. Three young women with identical noses were near me and I was convinced they must be sisters, except they stood wide apart and didn't speak a word with each other before getting off at different stops.
I went to Gangnam, the affluent part of the capital south of the river, for an errand, and it all clicked when I saw a big digital billboard advertising one of its many plastic surgery clinics, named "Gangnam Dawoom Clinic" – translated more or less as Gangnam-like Beauty Clinic.
There, a model with the exact same nose stared back at me, telling me this is the Gangnam-like nose now in vogue.
I don't want to become anything close to Gangnam-like, but as I get older, my two obvious signs of aging are hair loss and protruding under-eye bags. The former doesn't bother me so much, but the latter makes me look perpetually tired and sad, demanding a fix, and a handful of Korean-American friends have gushed over 'freshening up the face' when visiting the motherland. Call me weak if you want for succumbing to peer pressure at this age.
Thinking about the young ladies who obviously had their noses reshaped – quite skillfully, if I may add – I first turned to Korea's premier plastic surgery app for recourse – named, aptly, Gangnam Unni or 'Gangnam Sister'.
Even after spending more than two decades of my life in this country, I am easily shocked by its conveniences, which extend to getting a completely unnecessary surgical procedure to satisfy one's vanity. Just searching for the operation of my choice – "under-eye fat reassignment procedure" – revealed hundreds of clinics offering it within Seoul, along with prices and options for scheduling a consultation, almost alway available the following day.
It's almost like getting no plastic surgery would be more difficult given the sheer spectrum of options beckoning for your choice. Wracked with indecision, I did what most genuine Koreans would do and called a doctor friend. Can you refer me to someone you know?
"Go to Dr. X. He's the best in [duh] Gangnam for eyes and did me two years ago. You can't even tell I got work done," he answered without letting me finish the question (and it's true, I couldn't tell at all that he got any work done, despite knowing him since 2005 and seeing him every few months), and that's how I ended up in a room with this Dr. X just 70 meters from Gangnam subway station, exit 4 one evening back in June. He even offered to do my eyes on the spot, at 6 pm no less. I politely declined and asked for a slot this month because I wondered if it was normal in Korea to get cut up right away without any prep and was about to get wasted that night with a friend whose mother was dying.
We don't know how this will go, but at least I am getting a very good deal price-wise – after a 30-percent discount for letting my before-and-after pictures to be used in ads and patient consultations. It's another standard Korean business practice: keep the fees low, collect free promotional materials, and get more customers (I mean, patients) flowing in.
Since you might as well see my face somewhere when you search for an under-eye fat reassignment procedure in Gangnam, I am breaking the news myself. And of course, I will share the photos here if it all goes well, and you can DM me for a referral.
If this posting goes viral, it's very likely that I could maybe even negotiate a 40-percent discount for you in return for spreading the word on Dr. X's behalf.
I am being only half-sarcastic. Such things aren't unusual in this highly commercialized world of K-beauty as I am discovering.