If ever there was a reason never to have plastic surgery, surely this is it. Forget looking ten years younger, Rupert (who denies he’s had anything done) looks like a completely different person. One who’s had a shed load of surgery.
I just don’t get it. Without any plastic surgery, you simply send out the message you are the age you are. When you’ve had this much work done, the image you’re projecting of yourself is far, far more complicated, perplexing and unflattering than that.
On a physical note, there comes a point with surgery where you can cease to look human and cross the line in to freakish territory. Once that happens, you lose all your attractiveness and sex appeal because other humans just aren’t programmed to respond to exaggeratedly inauthentic features.
What’s perhaps most interesting about this whole thing is that Rupert isn’t some average-looking bloke who’s tried to improve himself. Mr Everett is – was? – an extremely beautiful man. Which proves to me that being beautiful often just isn’t enough. You can be just as insecure about your looks if you have all those strong features and magical proportions in place, as if you haven’t.
All of which leads me to wonder if being beautiful is really any help in life at all.
Though I guess you’d have to ask Susan Boyle for the answer to that…