Feet. They carry us everywhere.
To work, to play, to the liquor store for vodka. To bed. To the bathroom. Into your lover’s arms. Away from the dentist chair.
Running, screaming, from your mother-in-law.
The size of your feet doesn’t matter. Or does it? If you suffer from body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), focusing on what’s wrong, instead of what’s right with your body, takes up most of your waking moments. There have been any number of articles written on body image issues. Too big, too small, too fat, too thin, too short, too tall. Pick a body part and I can guarantee there are women now looking in a mirror not liking what they see. The latest body part seems to be feet.
Not everyone is happy with the state of their two mobility devices and will try anything to improve on what nature gave them. We all agree that severe bunions or clawed toes can hamper our happy walk. There are surgical ways to ease those problems.
And then there’s extreme surgery. For those suffering from body dysmorphic disorder; sub-category: feet. Your feet look just fine to everyone else. But to you, they look like something out of The Hobbit.
The procedure is called Cinderella surgery.
‘Cinderella surgery‘ alters size and shape of feet to improve appearance. Operations include shortening or lengthening toes, shaving off excess bone to remove lumps and bumps, and liposuction.
One woman from the U.K. had this to say about her feet:
“It sounds silly, but I’ve always hated my feet and felt too embarrassed to get them out in front of my friends. Even as a child, I thought they didn’t look normal. I was revolted by them.”
When I saw her feet, I WAS shocked. At how normal they looked:
Yes, she has a toe or two longer than her big toe but nothing to be ashamed of. Those little piggies would get her to market, even in a pair of sandals and I promise you, no one would refuse to sell her a toe ring.
But it wasn’t only the length of her toes, it was also the size of her feet.
“It didn’t help that my feet were a huge size eight (US 10)…which meant shoes looked ungainly, and my second and third toes were longer than my big toes. I would squeeze my feet into shoes two sizes smaller, so my toes were always sore and covered in corns. I knew I was making my feet look even worse, but I couldn’t bear to wear big, ugly shoes.”
Instead of embracing the uniqueness of her digits, this woman decided to do what so many other women do when something on their body doesn’t “look right.” Besides investing in a pair of glasses.
She had surgery. By the looks of it, very painful surgery. Did I mention it cost her £4,500?
The surgery took an hour, to the sounds of bones being sawed and crunched. This was followed by the insertion of wires in her toes, which she had to wear for five weeks. Then two weeks of walking on crutches and no exercising for six months.
She endured all that for this:
I hope she’s happy with the results. I hope she did it so she can look at her feet and think, “I’m happy I did this for me.” And not, “I’m hope other people can now look at my feet without judging.”
Personally I look at her feet, in their original version, as more attractive than some I’ve seen and maybe, if I was her friend, would have suggested a day at the shops buying shoes that fit.
Are there things I’d like to change about myself? Hella yes. If we had the time we could go down the list and have a real share-fest. Not one of us is perfect and despite what the beauty industry would have us believe, it’s the imperfections that make us unique. And awesome. So far, all my parts are working and my feet get me where I need to go. When that changes, I’d be up for a conversation.
It’s time women stopped over-analyzing every crinkle, dimple, pimple, and skin wrinkle they see (or think they see) in the mirror. This is all surface stuff and I can promise you that the only one worried about this shit is you.
I mean, sure, I could have an operation to show off a little more toe cleavage. But a girl’s got to leave something to the imagination. My feet agree.
Would you consider pumping up your toe cleavage* by going under the knife?
*This post may seem very woman-centric but I’ve seen male toe cleavage. It happens. But it shouldn’t.
4 thoughts on “Women Are Going Under The Knife For Better Toe Cleavage — It’s Time To Get A Foot Up On Body Dysmorphic Disorder”
Your third-to-last paragraph says it all – none of us is perfect, and since all my parts are working (on their own!) I’ll remain thankful and happy. Sure, there are things I’d change if I had the money, but hundred dollar bills suddenly rained down, I’d skip the surgery and take my Pelican Neck and dimpled thighs and go on a huge vacation!
You know what I’d do if I had the money? Fund research into the development of how to grow money trees. Then we can “coin” a new phrase: money DOES grow on trees. *grin*
I’ve had all my toes replaced with Vienna sausages. It’s going well.
Brilliant. Serves two purposes…if you’re looking to adopt a stray dog you (or rather your feet) would be very appealing. And, if you don’t have time to make something for that dinner party, you can bring your own appetizers. Win, win.
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