I got my first invitation to a Botox party last month. A guerilla, invite-only gathering with an inventory of procedures, including menu items like underarm Botox for $350 (a purported sweat eliminator) or the complete facial works for $450. I had a fleeting consideration of shelling out the money only for the fun of it. Other than its ‘favours’ on the centre, it might be like several other party and promised a component of a ‘sisterhood’ camaraderie (this particular party was targeted at women only), alongside the share of muscle-paralysers.
From midwestern Med Spas to the apartments of cool Brooklynites, Botox parties have proliferated within the age of social media. Often spread by word-of-mouth, they’re sold as a win-win scenario for...
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