My dissertation is over with now!  I am pleased with my research, and here is the conclusion:

Conclusion

But in the end, it's not really possible to enrich or enhance who we are as individuals without working on ourselves from the inside out, or without authentic hard work.  (Vivien Diller, 2011)

In my dissertation, I outlined the social history of the baby boomers, in order to determine how they became the amortals of the 21^st century and how this narrative elicited their future choices of ageing. My examination showed that as this cohort is living longer, ageing has been reconstructed, not only due to healthier lifestyles but also because of technological advancements in medical and cosmetic surgeries. I illustrated the visible difference of the construct of age over a generation. Whilst I did not specifically propose that one should aspire to emulate the appearance or behavior of the pre-generation middle aged and old, which are clearly outdated and seemingly unpopular modes of expression, neither was I criticizing the current more active lifestyle of the amortals. However, I question the norm of the blank, expressionless face of the older woman of today. In an   attempt to become “rejuvenated”, the use of surgical and non-surgical procedures leaves many cohorts simply looking like older women who “have had work done”. I concluded that this subsequently became linked to a religiosity towards youth, and in particular, an appearance of youth. 

One of the significant findings was that the “worship of the celebrity” has increased, aided by mass media celebrity scrutinisation, including the internet and reality TV programmes. This, I asserted, resulted in an idealization of the celebrity body and subsequent cultural assimilation of cosmetic surgery, to avoid visible marks of ageing, which I suggested, was a denial of old age and death. I illustrated how makeover programmes such as 10YY assumed that ageing was a condition in which a cure must be found, and I questioned why women were shamed into corporeal interventions in order to “pass as young”. My findings also demonstrated a correlation between the religious idolization of a god with that of the rituals of cosmetic surgery. This led me to consider shame and guilt, both in terms of redemption and rejuvenation, as well as in the quest to achieve an “eternal life”. 

In looking at the marketing of cosmetic surgery procedures, in print and online, I was able to illustrate, and understand, the pressures on women to conform to hegemonic beauty ideals, and observed how the terminology used falsely depicts how seemingly effortless and straightforward surgical procedures appear to be, much like a visit to the hairdresser. Moreover, I suggested that rather than altering the body with surgical knives or injections, a more appropriate therapy might be one that is applied to the mind. Whilst I am aware of the coping strategies that appear necessary in order to sustain a _degree of contentment in life, my contention was to suggest an alternative approach that I propose is more meaningful. To live a life of denial is not a healthy mode of being, I contend. I acknowledge that denial can at times be a lesser of two evils, when faced with psychological and physical “symptoms” which can be too much to bear. However, I argue that aesthetic surgery, which is an elective option chosen by, in this instance, the ‘young person trapped in an old person’s body’ (Holliday and Sanchez Taylor, 2006, p.189) and is carried out in a private clinic in order to achieve ‘self-improvement rather than psychic distress’ (ibid.) differs markedly from bodies which are which are treated by plastic surgeons in NHS hospitals and clinics.

My study examined the theory that denying age and death leads to a life not fully lived. The notion of the ‘death anxiety’ (Becker, 1973) which disturbs us all, could be used positively. Rather than the reminder of death turning into an unconscious denial – using cosmetic surgery as an example – perhaps lives could be lived more fully, in the present, whilst acknowledging old age and death, and making the process of life meaningful. If indeed, as an atheist, I contend that there is no meaning to life, no purpose, then we need to see life for what it is and to banish the illusion of a quest for immortality. These illusions are religious and cultural rationalizations, created in order to give a meaning to our existence and, I contend, they remain constructed realities whereby we can continue to deny the reality of life – which is that, with luck eventually we grow old and we die. Whilst the illusion of immortality can, and does, soothe the meaninglessness of life and can be nurturing, perhaps we could use it in order to provide courage to reach acceptance of who we are, right now. In other words, if there is no meaning to life we can make our lives meaningful. A culture in which age need not be regarded as a problem, where women are not defined by their appearance and where intelligence, moral values, integrity and authenticity are valued, might enable women to focus on their inner selves, rather than the “false beauty” obtained by the surgeon’s knife. The idea of false beauty stems from the bible where women wearing make-up are evil, using their painted faces to manipulate men:

And you, O desolate one, what do you mean that you dress in scarlet, that you adorn yourself with ornaments of gold, that you enlarge your eyes with paint? In vain you beautify yourself. Your lovers despise you; they seek your life (Jeremiah 4:30)

Whilst of course not suggesting that women who opt for cosmetic surgery are evil, I concur with de Beauvoir’s viewpoint, as cited by Holliday and Sanchez Taylor that,

to gain equality with men, then, feminists must reject those qualities that mark them as different – as women. Women should seek to transcend their bodies and therefore reject beauty. (2006, p.184).

I suggested that attitudes towards ageing could be transferred from fear-driven to hope-driven, as Anne Kreamer notes (2007, p.194) and where authenticity overrides the desire to strive for   an appearance of youth. It is difficult to delineate the line between “natural” and “authentic”. Is a face full of make-up any different from one full of fillers? Some might argue that a touch of lipstick is no different from a mouth filled with Restylane. Where is the line drawn that takes us on the slippery slope to the plasticised body? If we consider the market for counterfeit goods, is a fake Cartier watch as valuable or pleasurable as the real thing? I imagine that many people would be satisfied with the “knock off” version, but I argue that the imperfect genuine article, whether it be a watch, a handbag or an aged face, is preferable to an appearance of false perfection.

Finally, whilst the illusions of perfection, youth and the eternal quest for everlasting life are a part of our constructed reality, as defined by consumer ideals, I suggest that if the meaningful values of life were more concerned with integrity than youth, dress size or celebrity, might we feel better about ourselves? How have we reached a state whereby the illusion of an essentialist, authentic inner body needs to be aligned with a cosmetic outer self, particularly when the term cosmetic is one that relates to the superficial, skin-deep and trivial?