As a woman in the beauty industry, here’s why I’m against Botox

“I want women to accept and acknowledge they are conforming. Whether you view that as a good or bad thing, that’s up to you.”

I opened Instagram the other day to see a news piece all about the rise of ‘baby Botox’, which I quickly realised is simply another way to talk about ‘preventative Botox’. I felt deflated. Did I feel this way because both ‘baby’ and ‘preventative’ Botox are simply Botox rebranded, and I think marketing should be smarter? Or because I think women should be smarter and stop convincing themselves of the idea that ageing can be ‘prevented’?

At times, I feel like I’m living in my favourite ’90s movie, Death Becomes Her, a dark comedy about two rival women (Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn) who drink a magic potion that grants eternal youth, only to face unforeseen consequences as their bodies decay despite their immortality.

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It’s a theme revisited in this year’s divisive release, The Substance, which follows an aerobics instructor (Demi Moore) in a desperate pursuit of youth. Both are grotesque, slotting into the particularly visceral body horror genre. It’s art imitating life, taking our cultural obsession with beauty to the nth degree. Both pivot around the same central question: How far will we go to look beautiful?

As a founder in the beauty industry [editor’s note: Erika’s brand, Fluff, sells vegan, refillable makeup and skincare], most days I have to remind myself that choosing not to participate in what I define as oppressive beauty culture is important; a value and a legacy that I want to share.

Beauty standards are constantly shifting. They’re rooted in religion, politics, gender, class, capitalism and so much more. They reach almost every facet of girlhood and womanhood, dictating what we wear, how we speak, how we move, what we eat, even how we sleep. And yet what concerns me most is our desire to freeze time. Ageing has gone from something inevitable to something avoidable, or at least, we can pray (and pay). But at what cost?

Beauty and the Botox

Recently, I published an article talking about how I’d found myself in more conversations than I’d like around Botox. “I’ve never had an issue with getting older,” I wrote. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice looking older. Not just at beauty events, but day to day – at the cafe, in my yoga class, at run club, the grocer, on a plane. I continually find myself surrounded by women who look five to 10 years younger than they are. Next to them, I look tired. Ironically, when I speak to these women, they feel tired, except I can never tell, because they’ve frozen their faces in time.”

“I am against Botox,” I wrote. “And while one day I may eat my own words, I really hope I don’t.” I shared this piece on the Instagram account of my beauty brand, Fluff, and it was one of our most engaging pieces of content ever. Clearly, it struck a nerve. There are many reasons why women choose to have interventions like Botox and many reasons why they choose not to. I’ve discussed these at length with many people, particularly through Fluff’s podcast, Pretty Hard. These conversations have been vulnerable, illuminating, inspiring and disheartening. I’ve been compiling these thoughts into a book, which I hope to release one day.

“It’s a protection thing, I want to be guarded for the future. When it comes down to it, it’s probably an anxiety thing, wanting to make sure I can predict the outcome: ‘I won’t look old because I’m doing it now.’ But we know preventative Botox isn’t a thing, it’s just Botox.” – Lucinda Price, comedian, author and presenter.

“There is so much research coming out, and a movement against these procedures, because they’re not sustainable. The conversations are becoming deeper: ‘Why do we need to preserve our youth?’” – Stacey Burt, founder of holistic skin clinic, Little Company.

“I went so hard on the injectables and I’ve had such a break from that, that my face looks like mine again.” – Erin Deering, designer at Deering World.

Me against me

Of course, I’ve thought about getting Botox. Likewise, I’ve thought about lip fillers, the ‘triangle of sadness’ that crinkles between my eyebrows, and the pigmentation on my forehead. I’m subject to continual, internal struggles. I grapple with the face I want to present to the world and what I think I should present – particularly given my platform within the beauty industry.

“But then I’ve thought about looking like everyone else,” I wrote. “About getting rid of the signs of joy, stress, struggle, hard work and summers well spent. I’ve thought about denying myself the opportunity to see what I look like over time. Ultimately, the thought of Botox has never made me feel good or empowered – two words I often hear from the other side of the fence. The idea of Botox has only ever made me feel the opposite, like I’m not enough, not powerful or not desirable as I am.”

I get it, we all have the right to choose what makes us feel beautiful. And I don’t want to take that away from anyone. But I also want the right to question what makes me feel beautiful – the systems, the structures, the brands, the individuals, the media and more. I want women to accept and acknowledge they are conforming. Whether you view that as a good or bad thing, that’s up to you, but it is a fact, just like we conform to other beauty and fashion trends.

As a woman, we’re told (in the eyes of Western society) that we will be less desirable, ‘invisible’ if you will, as we age. We’ve been conditioned over decades to think that our value is in our looks, and we can’t be blamed for wanting to preserve this as much as possible.

But I am ever curious about the vivacious women who refute this idea – women like Michèle Lamy, Patti Smith, Diane von Furstenberg or Carol Green. I’m not talking about ‘pro-age’, silver-haired models who are 50 and hired by advertisers to present as 70. I’m talking about 70 and 80-year-old women who have chosen to embrace each stage of life, rather than deny it.

Happy feet and sun kisses

Why is it that we look at our mothers or grandmothers and love their lines, but not our own? “I feel that I have lived every single day of my life,” Dianne von Furstenberg said last year during an appearance on Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ Wiser Than Me podcast. “In that life, in that short life, even though I am 76, I have piled up so much that I certainly could not feel any younger. I am who I am. That’s why I say, instead of asking, ‘How old are you?’ you should ask, ‘How long have you lived?’. And then, all of a sudden, you answer with pride.”

For me, living is enjoying it all. It’s drinking and eating in moderation. It’s being in the sun. It’s wearing sunscreen when I’m there for longer than 20 minutes but not on a winter’s day or indoors. It’s accepting my happy feet (which the beauty industry likes to call crow’s feet) and sun kisses (pigmentation), both natural outcomes that tend to follow the privilege and joy of having a baby. What incredible souvenirs these are of the changes our bodies endure and accommodate.

And yet, so many of us try to remove these signs. But not freckles – we’ll draw those on with a pen because they’re cute. Well, at least right now they’re trending, back in whatever year, we were concealing them.

Living is knowing what’s good and not good for me. I don’t smoke and I’m not into party drugs. I believe being outdoors, walking, meditation, therapy and yoga are not talked about enough, not only as self-care but as skincare. Living has meant I’ve accepted (despite a few moments of doubt) my thin lips – inherited from my mother, her mother. A reminder of where I came from.

I want to look my age

I wonder, what does a 35-year-old woman in 2024 look like? At least I can say she looks like me. I feel grateful that I’ll get to know what ‘me’ looks like today, tomorrow and over the years to come. I feel sad that some of my friends, and much of Instagram’s Explore feed, will not.

Of course, I’ve thought, ‘I’ve only got one life, so why not express and update myself to the max?’ But then I think about being my natural self, growing my hair out, not wearing any makeup at all. I think about the time when none of these interventions existed and none of this mattered. That time feels so much less stressful.

“Perhaps there’s nothing wrong with getting Botox if you’ve truly examined your why, and can be honest about succumbing to external influences and internal insecurities. But I think there’s something wrong with getting Botox when you start thinking about everyone else,” I wrote.

“I think there’s something wrong when your peers or children start looking at you, and wonder why their skin doesn’t look as plump or as tight or as clear, or why their nose doesn’t look as straight, or their lips as thick and full. I think there’s something wrong when you omit facts about your appearance. The cost of keeping up a lie is exhausting.”

To age is a privilege that not everybody gets to see out. Admittedly, our relationship to beauty and identity is pretty hard. I don’t know what I’ll be reflecting on and celebrating on my deathbed, but I have a strong feeling it won’t be Botox.

This article was originally published in Fashion Journal issue 195, read it here.

For more about embracing ageing, head here.