Filler Is Dead—Long Live Filler

From the moment we pop our little collagen-rich heads into the world, we’re trained to analyze our reflection. Just as babies require mirror play to develop a fully formed sense of self, we seek satisfaction in the face staring back at us. Teens, middle-aged, senior citizens—no one is immune to sneaking a gratuitous peek in the mirror, and we’d all like to feel pleased (or at least marginally content) with that reflection.

The habit we needed in infancy refuses to relent, even as time and gravity take their indefatigable toll on the condition of our skin and the density of our bones. But as those signs of aging appear, it can be harder to feel enthused about the face looking back at you. I’m as guilty as the next person who craves a little facial tweaking to look better—I started visiting my dermatologist regularly the moment I turned 29—and I reject the idea that a little vanity is inherently bad.

Thankfully, humans are an unflappably creative species, which over the last five decades has led to dozens of medically-approved ways to prop up that sagging skin and inflate those droopy hollows that accompany aging with biomimetic ingredients—known colloquially as filler.

The promise of a smoother, more youthful-looking face has an interesting effect on people, self very much included. Cosmetic work isn’t quite the fountain of youth, but rather a path towards beauty and desirability, both of which are invaluable in modern culture. And with impossible beauty standards everywhere we turn (how many times did you check Instagram today?), we'll often go to drastic lengths to maintain that youthful ideal. No wonder undergoing regular filler appointments has become as commonplace as your biannual dentist visit. At least, until recently.

Our faces, on full display, have become something of a battleground when it comes to autonomy. In the minds of the loudest detractors, filler injections are to blame for the “pillow face” phenomenon that ravaged Hollywood and the streets of any major metropolitan city over the last half decade. With each celebrity’s candid, and thoroughly unglamorous, paparazzi photos, the critics erupt, shaming the aging star for her overdone cosmetic treatment. Never mind that we demand she look 25 (maximum 30) throughout every decade of her life. That sort of pressure can drive anyone to return to their injector, begging for yet another round of Radiesse, Juvéderm, or Restylane to plump their cheeks by another millimeter. Others rail against filler as the foil to body acceptance.

But ill-informed internet trolls, and anyone else debating a woman's appearance, may need to sit this particular argument out, especially if they’ve never seen the inside of a dermatologist’s office. As someone who finds herself in her derm’s chair at least three times a year, eager for my various injections, I can assure you that filler isn’t the problem—we are.

We live in a world that is unequivocally obsessed with youth. I understand the fear of slipping into oblivion with every passing birthday. I can also tell you that a spot of filler when your fat pads start to migrate south (just one of the many inevitable signs of aging) can almost instantly boost your self-esteem. I don’t need to defend that stance, and yet, I find myself speaking up anytime someone announces that filler’s reign is over. Sure, more invasive options, like a face lift, are becoming more ubiquitous, especially in Hollywood, but as long as we hold women to impossibly high beauty standards, filler will remain firmly in the zeitgeist.

Of course, the rise of the fast casual medi-spa and cosmetic clinics on every corner means that these once rarified cosmetic treatments are now accessible to more people, and more budgets, than ever before. That should not equate visiting the salon for a haircut to receiving a vial of filler on your lunch break. A needle is involved, and for reasons I still struggle to understand, some people treat these procedures as if they do not puncture the skin and inject it with a foreign substance that lingers for months at a time.

It takes research and effort to find a reputable provider with a refined aesthetic eye to achieve the results that you want. That applies to everyone from the hairstylist chopping your hair into a pixie cut, the dentist shaving down your teeth for veneers, and the injector wielding the needle. I would no sooner allow my mailman to give me a root canal than I would for a poorly trained injector to alter my appearance with filler, even semi-permanently, and I’d wager a guess that many of the treatment’s biggest critics are looking at the work of subpar providers—and women wobbly by the weight of society’s expectations.

Truthfully, the idea of “aging gracefully” doesn’t mean you have to reject any and all cosmetic enhancements to lift, plump, or fill your face. Filler remains the same FDA-approved treatment that it’s always been—and newer, more elegant formulations are arriving every year.

But there's a balance to be found with injectables, just like anything else in beauty. As a 35-year-old woman, I have to remind myself that cosmetic tweaking can be tasteful, imperceptible to almost anyone but me—the only person ever allowed to critique my appearance. As a filler fan, I have to resist the temptation to, quite simply, mess around with my face too much. More is not always more, and if we can stop injecting our opinions on each other’s appearance, then maybe we can concentrate on a much bigger, and more important issue: dismantling these outdated beauty standards altogether.

Call me crazy, but I’d love to feel empowered to age exactly as I see fit, and if that means injecting a few vials of filler twice a year, well then frankly, it’s no one's business. And bashing how a woman chooses to present herself, well that's definitely not a good look.