If I have ever learned anything from reality television it is this – Priscilla Presley’s face is not natural. Elvis’s former flame is a contestant on the current season of “Dancing with the Stars,” and she is pretty good, especially as the oldest contestant. But it’s her face and not her lively foxtrot that I’ve been noticing. If you’ve ever seen pictures of the pretty young girl Elvis fell in love with in the 1960s, you can be certain it’s not the same face she has today. Presley, 62, is old but has scoffed at the hands of time. I would expect her to show some signs of wear and tear, but she looks like someone pulled silly putty over a chipmunk. Apparently, Presley’s frightening visage is the work of Dr. Daniel Serrano, an Argentinean quack who injected several Hollywood socialites with his miracle anti-aging drug. The miracle drug is actually industrial low-grade silicone which is typically used to grease car parts. Serrano has since been dubbed “Dr. Jiffy Lube.” This is tragic for Presley, Larry King’s wife and countless others who experienced painful lumps and holes in their skin due to the unlicensed “doctor.” But, this tragedy can be a learning experience. It opens up an important dialogue that all women and some men of a certain age should hear. Always know your plastic surgeon. Serrano was reportedly trustworthy because he was incredibly good looking – I guess going to an ugly cosmetic surgeon is a bit like having your dinner cooked by a skinny chef. But I highly doubt Serrano has the skill or pain threshold to perform cosmetic surgery on himself. Instead of trusting him, the women should have asked where he got his face done. So one important lesson I have learned is that you must always go to an ugly or at least care worn plastic surgeon. That way you know he relied on his smarts and his skill – not his looks – to get where he is. The second lesson we all must learn about plastic surgeons is that a foreign accent does not increase IQ. In America we have a twisted obsession with accents. If you want to quickly communicate that someone is intelligent or cultured in a commercial or TV show you give the character a British accent. Americans inherently don’t trust other Americans as much as someone who pronounces the word “bottle” funny. I wonder if commercials in England that want to quickly convey someone as stupid give them an American accent. Nah, they probably make them Welsh. On the flip side no one wants a plastic surgeon who sounds like Larry the Cable Guy. I guess it’s all about finding a good balance. Personally I want my plastic surgeon to have non-regional diction like a nightly news anchor. One final requirement I have for my future plastic surgeon is that he actually be a licensed plastic surgeon. Am I the only one who still believes in research? Why would you ever go to a surgeon you knew nothing about? I would want his credentials. I would want references. I would want the number of his last employer. Most reasonable people do research before buying a car; you would think the same would apply when finding someone to cut open your face. Serrano was not licensed to practice medicine in the U.S. I guess I could move out to Hollywood with a low-grade industrial lubricant and inject it into people’s faces at $500 a pop. In fact, why didn’t I think of that? In the grand scheme of cosmetic disasters, Presley looks pretty good. Have you seen designer Donatella Versace or “Knots Landing’s” Joan Van Ark? Talk about silly putty. All this botched plastic surgery just shows what a beautiful thing it is to age gracefully. Actress Jamie Lee Curtis agrees with me and is celebrating her 50th birthday by posing topless for the cover of AARP: The Magazine. Curtis told People magazine that she wanted to make a statement about aging naturally without cosmetic surgery. While all 50-year-old women should not run through the streets topless in celebration of their bodies, Curtis has the right idea. What is so terrible about aging, especially if the alternative looks like Presley? I guess it’s easy for me to say since I’m only 21, but my outlook will not change. This is partially due to my unreasonable fear of needles. I could never do Botox. I’m also wary of any surgery that I don’t need to survive. So maybe when I attend Grandparent’s Day at my grandson’s elementary school I will be the only one there sporting a nose from 1986. I can live with my outdated body parts. What I can’t live with is a silly putty face.
—-Contact Caitlyn Scott at cscott@lsureveille.com