Never let them put anything in your face. It was one of the first orders I received from my boss as the new kid in the beauty department at a major women’s magazine in New York City. (Kid being the operative word, as I was barely old enough to drink the free champagne at fancy fashion parties.) A veteran of the industry, my boss proudly showcased her years of experience by framing her fine lines (earned during the golden era of print) with fiery red hair that she meticulously colored every two weeks. I idolized her career and her unwavering commitment to aging gracefully. This cautionary piece of advice came during the mid-2000s when injectable fillers and injectable wrinkle reducers — temporary treatments injected into areas of the face to help plump (with fillers) or smooth (with wrinkle reducers)— were something only women around my mother’s age were thinking about, not me.

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