Lying back on the sofa, I closed my eyes and felt the sharp prick of the needle piercing my top lip.
A familiar stinging feeling spread across my mouth and I felt my lips swell slightly.
‘Almost done,’ smiled the beautician as she moved onto my bottom lip.
It was July 2018 and I’d been having lip fillers every few months for two years.
The same beautician would come to my home, do the 20-minute procedure for £85.
Sitting up, I peered in her handheld mirror.
‘I’m going to look like Daffy Duck till the swelling goes down,’ I giggled.
‘See you again soon,’ the beautician smiled, packing away her equipment.
I knew what to expect. For the next day, my lips would be like sausages.
Swollen, blown up. But by tomorrow, they’d settle and I’d be left with a beautiful pillowy pout.
Only trouble was, the fillers never lasted.
As my lips started to thin, I’d rebook the beautician.
‘You don’t even need it,’ groaned my boyfriend Michael, 31, that evening.
‘It makes me feel good,’ I shrugged.
After all, I’d always taken care of myself. Watched my weight and worn nice clothes.
Having nice, plump lips was part of that.
And the next day, sure enough, I woke up with the perfect pout.
Smiling in the mirror, I slicked on some lipstick.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der October 03, 2019-Ausgabe von Chat.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der October 03, 2019-Ausgabe von Chat.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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