What do you do in the waiting room?

Cosmetic surgery or if you prefer, having a ‘treatment’, is very private. Most people tend to keep quiet about it. If one admits to having botox®, one has probably had fillers. Should they confess to having their eyes done, it might be a browlift and so on and so forth. We all seem to declare a tier below what has actually been done.

What do you do if you run into someone you know in the clinic? We reveal some strategies to ensure you don’t lose face!

Even if you are the full-disclosure rarity “This guy does the best facelift, hardly a scar!”, or “Have a stroke of my skin. Baby’s bottom!”, or “New boobs. Sexy shape, see?”, you still may want to be in lockdown just before because you’re nervous, and just after because you look terrifying with all the blood. Surgery can do that to a person. First the fear, then the ‘high’ comes later.

That is perhaps why they are so addictive. Here’s the thing though; these squirtings, plumpings, tweaks and snips all happen in the public arena. You can’t be coy like when having a ‘Brazilian’, where the therapist comes to your house.

If you must have a proper medical ‘thingymebob’ performed by a fully qualified ‘chapsie’ then you will need to leave your comfort zone and brave sitting in a waiting room! Now, if you were Kylie, Kim Kardashian or Princess Kate (not to cast aspersions, but she’s bound to at some point. Just think of all those royalty-snapping lenses from every angle?), then there is probably a home visit and/or a private waiting room. But for today’s conversation let’s just assume that you are you, which means of course, a quick lip filler, over to a boob job, on to chin lipo… you are taking the risk of being spotted. So you need some tactics!

Try a disguise. If you don’t mind looking slightly deranged but surely unrecognisable, put on a headscarf and sunglasses (for over the bandages too). Or go all out, and use a wig. You will then hopefully just be an unidentifiable crazy creature, no doubt foreign, and everyone knows you shouldn’t stare.

Lie. If you are in for the pre-op consult, just tell everyone you bump into that you are having a mole removal.

Flatter. “Oh my word! I have always thought you looked 16 because you were 16. You have judged this so right”. Now, she will be your mentor.

Get super conspiratorial. “Are your scars itchy?”, “Do let’s have coffee next week to show each other any new ones!”, “I have no one else to chat to about it, I’m so pleased we bumped into each other!”. Now see, you’re a team!

Keep your enemies closer. If it’s one of your rivals, go right over to them, burst into tears and say, “I was told it wouldn’t swell but look at my huge head! He’s definitely going to leave me now!”. And there is a confidante!

Try to avoid crowds. Make an appointment to go before or after work hours. Surgeons work very early and very late so, no doubt you could probably go at 6:30AM.

Shake on it. A direct approach is a principled one: “If I don’t see you, you don’t see me”. Form a pact, now you’re blood-bonded sisters.

Psych them out. Always smile widely (if at all possible) at everybody. Should they ignore you, you got away with it. Tit for tat, if they keep your secret, you’ll keep yours.

Call a taxi. Though make sure it’s right outside to pick you up – no messing around with hailing or scurrying to a parked car.

And lastly, fake an amorous liaison. Tell the town gossip, you’ve been sleeping with the Doc. So that’s why you’re always loitering around Harley Street. It’s all that clandestine rumpy-pumpy that’s keeping you so young. But sshhh, don’t tell anyone!