San Miguel de Allende – Skeletana

Sweet Little Old Lady Before Plastic Surgery

I've often said that the great wave of expats, especially of the American species, that crashed into the shore of the colonial central Mexican town of San Miguel de Allende was wrought by the promise of cheaper real estate. The sales pitch promising that one would be able to live even bigger and better than in the USA brought "weekend" house buyers by the hundreds. Imagine buying a house on a weekend trip. You plunk down a small fortune for a house in a foreign country about which you know precious little but have deluded yourself into thinking you know everything there is to know about Mexico by virtue of the fact that you've got a Mexican housekeeper back home in the States.

Another reason for the plethora of Americans that litter the streets of San Miguel de Allende, blowing about like so many dead leaves that collect at your feet on an autumn day in Vermont, is plainly visible. The promise of a "younger you" through cheap plastic surgery has lured a great many to San Miguel de Allende (SMA).

I have absolutely no idea how SMA's plastic surgeons market their hack-and-chop services outside of SMA (though there are plenty of ads in the English-language newspaper "Atención San Miguel" and in the telephone book), nor do I know how the prices compare with those in the States.

Frankly, I don't care.

However, if the incomprehensibly horrific post-plastic surgery results among the expats in SMA is an indication of the plastic surgeons' skills, then turn and run the other way ladies!

If results tell you anything, it would seem that the surgeons use a cookie cutter on these women…with frightening results. They all look the same!

I was walking through SMA's main Jardín or plaza when I saw a sight that made me want to run screaming the other way or at least faint on the spot.

Maybe I should "cut" the surgeons some slack. Perhaps it's the worn-out material with which they have to work. I am talking about the elderly with loads of money who bribe a plastic surgeon into performing a miracle. Unfortunately, things often go awry.

The woman I saw had to be in her mid-seventies. She was rather tall and sported obviously dyed pitch-black hair. She was dressed like Cher in the Sonny-and-Cher days…complete with beads and all. She was so thin that she looked like a skeleton. I dubbed her Skeletana. She looked like the type of person who barfs after every meal.

And, the face!

In what I can only guess was the motive, she looked like a giant aged Barbie doll that had been microwaved.

I cannot be any nicer than that.

After that nightmarish vision, I stumbled to a bench. Observing those meandering around the plaza, for the first time in my many visits to SMA, I finally noticed the difference between the humble and graciously aging expat and the loony rich expat.

The loony rich expats look like victims of a radiation accident.

From what I saw on this trip to SMA, there seems to be a great deal of seventy-year-old women who are trying to look like they are thirty-something's. They dress in styles far too young and dye their hair, which is worn in styles far too young for their actual age. From the back, many look like cute young chicks…. until you see them face-to-face. They look like dead people! Dead people who have had several too many face lifts!

Same Sweet Little Old Lady AFTER ONE TOO MANY Plastic Surgeries -- Skeletana

Whatever happened to aging gracefully?

Whatever happened to being content with what you've got and how you look?

Is it plastic surgery these gals need or a good dose of reality therapy?

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Don't Forget To Check Out My New Guanajuato Travelogue!