Taking it on the chin

I keep hearing and reading that tough economic times mean much lower profits for luxury and cosmetic services. This is good news for the little people: On the off chance that one of us gets called for a job interview, we can get a chic new haircut at the last minute, in time to sit down with the 12-year-old manager and enthuse about teamwork.

Evidence of frightened exfoliators surfaced here last week, when every house on the block got a discount-coupon from a posh new massage-skincare-haircut place a few zip codes away.

I’d say the 30-percent savings on chemical-facial peels isn’t going to spark much interest in this neck of the woods, but I could be wrong. For all I know, everyone will look fresher and younger the next time we meet for a day-long graffiti paint-out.

This morning I read that cosmetic surgeons aren’t letting any grass grow under their Guccis either. An article in The New York Times describes growing popularity of a kind of plastic surgery that should go a long way to make up for the decline in nose-job work.

The story is about Marcus Davis, a 35-year-old boxer and martial-arts ninja whose face has been stitched up 77 times. Bleeding profusely is not good in the ring; it stops the fight. Not only was Davis an easy bleeder–apparently just the sight of his waffle-textured mug made judges jump to the conclusion that he was the lesser man.

A Las Vegas plastic surgeon “burred down the bones around Davis’s eye sockets. He also removed scar tissue around his eyes and replaced it with collagen made from the skin of cadavers,” according to R.M. Schneiderman’s article.

We’re all making adjustments these days: cheaper grades of beef, fewer movies, stalling on car payments. We’re all a little scared. Even as I type this, somewhere in a medical-office building close by, there is a board-certified plastic surgeon poring over Boxing Monthly magazine and hoping for the best.