The Designer Face Lift
2004; Lippincott Williams & Wilkins; Volume: 114; Issue: Supplement Linguagem: Inglês
10.1097/00006534-200410001-00097
ISSN1529-4242
Autores Tópico(s)Textile materials and evaluations
ResumoThe day that Dr. I. M. Kraftee's wife, Imogene, purchased her expensive designer dress changed his life but not as he had anticipated. After she had told him that the flimsy fabric cost “only $15,990,” he emitted an apoplectic screech and pummeled his chest. His mood did not change when Imogene added that “this was the last creation Cedrique of Paris did before he died from eating too many escargots.” “Too bad he did not indulge years before,” Kraftee murmured. “Stop mumbling, I. M. (even his wife called him by his initials, which stood for names that he hated: Ignatius Maximillian). You always like me to look good when I go to those plastic surgical meetings. Look what the other women spend on resurrecting themselves. I've just had my lower lids done—and by you in your OR, and it did not cost you anything—just a bottle of salt water and some medicines,” she protested. “Furthermore, this designer dress was specially made for me. Cedrique assured me that it would never be copied. Poor man, dead before his time. He did so much for so many.” “Now, Imogene, stop talking as if he was the RAF during the Battle of Britain.” Imogene left the room; her husband's remark deserved no reply. I. M. sat despondently—$16,000 for what? Just a dress and a skimpy one, too. Why should less material and less work cost more? It shouldn't, but it did and only because of the name, Cedrique, a false god worshipped by silly women flocking to him for his “designer” clothes. Kraftee suddenly sat upright, smiling, raising his arms and shouting, “I've got it, I've got it” Imogene rushed in. “What have you got, I. M.? Are you all right?” “I'm not all right. I'm perfect,” he said as he embraced her with a fervor unequalled since their wedding night. “My e = mc2,” Kraftee trumpeted. “I will call it the Designer Lift.” A few days later, Kraftee is talking to a 53-year-old investment counselor who wants “a younger face.” Specifically, as she notes, what she desires is a face that looks younger, “but it must match how the rest of my body looks.” Mrs. Knowett brandishes a sheaf of printouts, saying, “Dr. Kraftee, you see, I have done my research on face lifts. The Internet has been very helpful. I have read the papers: Aston, Baker—more than one—Ellenbogen, Hoefflin, Knize, Maillard, Owsley, Ramirez, and many more. Whose technique do you use?” “Mrs. Knowett, I realize that you have asked the question in good faith. I will tell you now, and I am saying it as forcefully as I can without being rude. I never employ anyone else's operation. I use my own. Could you imagine Picasso painting like Warhol, or more to the point, does Yves St. Laurent steal Oscar de la Renta's designs? I am not just a surgeon—and not only a plastic surgeon. There are thousands of those. I am a Designer Plastic Surgeon. Every face lift I do is unique, designed for each patient. No two people, even identical twins, who may be born alike, ever stay exactly alike. Therefore, no two operations can be or should be alike.” Kraftee has risen from his chair, goes to the window, looks resolutely to the busy avenue below, then turns his head back toward the patient and lowers it as his hands grip the chair. In a measured voice, he enunciates, “I am afraid, Mrs. Knowett, that we are not well matched. You want a reproduction. I create only originals.” “No, no, Dr. Kraftee, I am intrigued by what you have said. I, too, believe in individualized portfolios for every client since every client's needs differ.” “That's true, I hadn't thought of that parallel,” says Kraftee, who, of course, had already thought of it and would have introduced the comparison if Mrs. Knowett had not. “But, Dr. Kraftee, tell me more about your Designer Lift. What is it and how do you do it and how long does it take?” “First, I study your face by observing it, by palpating it, each millimeter. Come into the examining room.” Kraftee leads her to an exquisitely appointed room where it is possible to vary the intensity and the focus of the lights. He has 10 side-angled mirrors and five cameras with two videos. He pushes a button and Miss Penelope Peters, known as P. P., emerges silently through a swinging door that is part of the wall. “P. P., take your usual position. This is Mrs. Knowett, whom I believe you have already met. Mrs. Knowett, please sit here on this table. Turn toward me and let me scrutinize you. The buzzing you hear is the audiovisual recording of my examination. We pay particular attention not just to your face but to its expressions. For me, the face is not just a piece of flesh with bone, as so many of my distinguished colleagues, unfortunately misguided, would have you believe.” Kraftee's voice becomes earnest and soft as he turns her head in every conceivable direction. For him, her face is now disembodied. He dictates. “Is 53, looks 62 (she trembles and now looks 72). Smile. That's it. Smile. Is 8.6 on the aging scale (not explaining what it means). Skin sallow and abused. Wrinkles 8 plus,” his fingers of each hand ceaselessly probing, feeling, squeezing, pushing, pulling, burrowing. “Left forehead: slack 3.8, right 3.0; malar areas: left, down 5.6, right 6.2; nasolabial fold: left 5.0 serious sag 10 plus, right 6.0 serious sag 9.8 plus.” Every part of her forehead, face, and neck is examined, recorded, and stretched in various vectors. He even inserts his gloved hand into her mouth and pulls her cheeks laterally to the point of pain. Mrs. Knowett is enormously grateful that her clients and her husband are not witnesses. After 20 minutes of this exacting routine, Kraftee steps back and tells P. P. to turn off the recorder and the video. He tells the now thoroughly subdued Mrs. Knowett: “It is no secret; I am afraid that there is a lot, and I mean a lot, to be done. You will need four fittings—please make a note of that, P. P.—before I could operate—that is, if I could possibly get you on my hopelessly crazy, busy schedule.” P. P., cued to this scenario says under her breath: “Please, please, you have no time.” Mrs. Knowett pleads, “Dr. Kraftee, promise me that you can find the time for me, please. But what do these fittings mean?” “Well, unlike the others,” said derogatorily, “I do not just take photographs or use a computer to get an idea, usually a false one, of what you will look like after operation. I have evolved a method that I call progressive fixation. It is done with tape and special tape, imported from several parts of the world, even from Nigeria and Tibet. By applying these special tapes in a certain way and on several occasions, I obtain an extremely helpful and realistic idea of what I can do for you and what you will look like. Some patients require only three fittings, but you are definitely four. Ms. Peters, who has been with me now for 3 years, has learned the taping technique. In these four sessions, we will appraise your face in its new position and with its new look by video and still photography, as well as by my experienced observation. Even though everything we do in life is left somewhat to chance, when I operate, I want to be sure that chance plays as little role as possible in the outcome. I should tell you also that at operation we utilize similar maneuvers, although not with tape. Temporary fixation sutures—scores of them—are used and then replaced by permanent ones, but only after scrupulous assessment.” “It sounds complicated and lengthy, Dr. Kraftee. How long would an operation last?” “Mrs. Knowett, it is not complicated, at least not for me since I originated this individualized procedure. The operation lasts as long as it must. I am here to give you the result that your poor, old, time-battered face requires (Mrs. Knowett shudders). I am at the operating table as are my staff for whatever length is necessary to achieve an optimal outcome. Your face may be in my hands, but my body and soul are yours during what I consider a grand endeavor. While my Designer Lift may be unique, what is truly unique is the synthesis of technique with dedication, determination, and discretion. Without these crucial qualities, success would never be ours.” Kraftee says this solemnly, looks heavenward since he is but a servant to a Higher purpose. Mrs. Knowett's eyes fill with tears of gratitude, thankful she found this singular plastic surgeon. To have gone to anybody else would have been a tragedy. She thinks, “I shall have a face by Kraftee to go with a new ensemble from Milan or Paris. How lucky can a woman be! I cannot wait to tell my husband. I know he will want to celebrate,” a large smile enveloping her soon to be redesigned face.
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