Unless you have been living under a rock of late, you may have heard that getting a designer vagina is the latest trend swooping over from those clever (aherm) LA folk who love to create a hang up about everything under the sun.
Touted as the new nose job, if you’re wondering what on earth getting a designer vagina means quite simply it is this – surgical enhancement of the vulvar structures, labia minora, labia majora, mons pubis, perineum, introitus and hymen to achieve the patient’s desired “look. Lovely!
Apparently, there has been a dramatic increase in the number of girls and women having cosmetic surgery on their vaginas, and it’s now the third most popular procedure in the UK (holy moly!), according to search engine
Fuelled apparently by our obsession with mind numbing TV shows like Embarrassing Bodies and allegedly our need to look neat and tidy in yoga pants (seriously?!), I do wonder just a LITTLE bit that perhaps people might need to have some larger issues in life to occupy their concerns, rather than worrying what their lady bits might or might not look like under close inspection.
Here are 6 reasons why I, for one, won’t be getting a designer vagina (or labiaplasty):
- I don’t even have the time to pluck my eyebrows or shave my legs, let alone worry about the shape and size of my lady bits.
- I don’t think I have been brave enough to look down there since childbirth, preferring instead to adhere to the mantra, out of sight, out of mind.
- My stream of conciousness is mainly concerned with a) I hope I am not messing up my daughter and b) What am I going to make for breakfast tomorrow and c) Did I make enough money to cover the childcare this month or d) World peace – not whether my noo noo is picture perfect.
- C’mon now, nobody is even looking down there! It’s not like it gets a regular enough outing for this to even be an issue.
- If I was going to spend in the region of £1,300 – £3,700 on something, I could think of a lot better things to spend it on – namely, a week’s luxurious yoga and meditation retreat where I would’t have to talk to ANYBODY, or a five star holiday of some description.
- There are other areas of my body which are far more likely to require the attention of a surgeon’s knife if ever – for instance, my deflated grape-like boobs or my wrinkly sack of a stomach.
So over it already.
What do you think of this recent phenomenon to sweep over from the States? Love? Hate?
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