Fuelled by social media and the popularization of aesthetic medicine, body transformation has become a whole culture, navigating between self-love and hypersexualized aesthetics. It’s a deep dive into an era of injections.
In the movie “The Substance”, directed by Coralie Fargeat, Demi Moore plays a woman willing to do anything to regain her youth. “Have you ever dreamed of a better version of yourself? You should try this new product,” aimed at generating another version of herself: younger, more beautiful, more perfect. Even if it means hurting herself, a lot of harm… with no going back possible.
Behind this dystopian thriller lies a magnifying mirror of an injected era where the best (as often) becomes the enemy of good. Plump lips, a strangled waist, sculpted buttocks: following the Kardashians’ trail, entire generations of young women and men are transforming their bodies as if customizing a Sims character. On TikTok, hashtags like #BBLEffect (Brazilian butt lift) or #FaceCard (term used to describe a more attractive than average face) are exploding. And behind the ring lights, clinics are running at full capacity.
“The Covid years have been a real turning point in this ever-evolving world following social media trends. People have been confined at home for a long time, never looking at themselves as much in webinars, discovering themselves through screens. Social media has become the main sources of information and trends, more than just a distraction… At first, there was a tendency to consume aesthetic treatments to fight against the effects of aging, then there was a real appetite for XXL treatments and the desire to make the body and face a ‘work of art’ or a ‘showcase of transformation’,” analyzes Dr. Wided Limaiem-Joumni, specialized in aesthetic medicine.
The obsession with eternal youth is a luxury. Kim, Kylie, Khloé, and the others have gradually redefined the female body in the Instagram era. More than celebrities, they have become interfaces for aesthetic trends. Kylie Jenner, named the world’s youngest billionaire by Forbes in 2019 thanks to her lip fillers, recently regretted a breast augmentation at 19. Between empowerment and image dependency, the line is thin.
Meanwhile, her mother, Kris Jenner (70 years old), is giving herself a new youth and displaying it on Instagram. Unrecognizable! The photo has stirred the internet: “She looks like she’s 30 years old!,” read the comments. Behind this new wrinkle-free face, a deep plane facelift performed by Dr. Steven Levine, estimated at nearly 115,000 euros, the price of an apartment… So, transformation comes at a cost, not always paid in euros.
Boosted by the omnipresence of these transformed bodies and faces appearing as a new standard on social media, the practice of illegal injections executed by sometimes TikTok-trained individuals is skyrocketing. Dangerous products like industrial silicone or counterfeit hyaluronic acid are being injected in hotel rooms or apartment salons, causing infections, necrosis, or even vision loss.
In October 2024, a 24-year-old French student committed suicide after a botched beard transplant in Istanbul, performed by a real estate agent. Aesthetic doctor Amel Korchi explains how she denies some requests: “When a demand seems excessive, hasty, or simply off in terms of facial harmony, I prefer not to do it. Our role is also to provide a framework, temper some expectations, and help the patient see more clearly in their request.” But sometimes addiction is too strong.
On the set of “Ça commence aujourd’hui” on France 2, Margaux recounts her first injection at 18. Since then, she has transformed her entire face and gets injections every four months, unable to stop. An addiction to the needle, called kentomania. “From the first year, I felt the need to go back. When I couldn’t get an injection, I would get blood tests, tattoos, just to feel the needle in my body,” she confides.
For others, like the singer Theodora, nicknamed “the Congolese under BBL”, transformation becomes a performance staged on social networks, between fascination, provocation, and the cult of a remodeled body. “BBL is more of an image projected by social networks than a medical reality. It is not a practice I recommend or encourage for my patients. This extreme aesthetic remains marginal and often ephemeral,” states Benjamin Sarfati, an expert in plastic surgery at the Clinique des Champs-Élysées.
Olivier, 45, a fan of aesthetic surgery, confirms this quest for a more natural transformation: “I don’t want to change my face, but rather maintain a certain freshness. I think there will be a shakeup in these trends because, on social media, more and more celebrities are adopting new techniques that enhance them without transforming them.” Even Brad Pitt (62 years old) at 60, is in the game: collagen, skin boosters, discreet injections. With more subtlety, yes, but still the same obsession: never let the skin sag under his anti-aging LED mask.
While aesthetic transformation can be seen as empowerment, it should never come at the expense of health. To keep the process positive, it must be accompanied by essential precautions and remain supervised. Behind every injection is a medical act whose stakes are often not worth a like on Instagram.
