Vanity and boredom fuel Iran's nose job boom

Robert Tait in Tehran
Saturday May 7, 2005

Guardian
The surgical plaster encasing Goli Abadi's nose was the only blemish on a face of otherwise radiant beauty. One of a growing number of Iranians to fall prey to the national trend for cosmetic surgery, the 21-year-old unemployed dental hygienist had a prosaic, if suspiciously defensive, explanation.

"I had a broken nose when I was a child at kindergarten," Ms Abadi said. "I was hit on the face by a swing and it left a small hump in my nose. Otherwise, I would never have had this operation."

The only flaw in Ms Abadi's tale was its familiarity. Another young woman, Laila, 23, her face bruised and eyes bloodshot from a similar nose operation, recounted an almost identical childhood story. "After my accident I had problems breathing," she said. "I couldn't sleep lying on my front and always had to lie on my back."

The parallel explanations represent a curious twist in one of modern Iran's most visible social trends. The streets of Tehran abound with young people - mostly, but not exclusively, women - with their noses in plaster from the effects of surgery.

The phenomenon reflects a competitive urge among fashion-conscious Iranians to put their cosmetic handiwork on display. According to doctors, some even wear nose plasters as a status symbol without actually having had the operation.

But that openness is not matched by frankness about the motivations for surgery. "They all come with the excuse that they have had an accident, that they have breathing problems, that they have a deviation inside," said one Tehran specialist.

Whatever her own reasons, Ms Abadi waxed effusive on those of her cohorts. "I call it a virus," she said. "Nearly all of my friends have had nose operations. It's just competition among the girls to look more beautiful. I think it's very stupid. It also helps people to pass the time."

The Islamic republic has the highest rate of nose surgery in the world, although precise figures are hard to establish. In recent years other forms of cosmetic enhancement, including chin operations, finger nail implants, embedding fake diamonds in the gums and tattooed eyebrows, have also become popular, but the nose job remains the most in-demand.

Iranians refer to the perfectly formed button nose it is meant to achieve as the "one million toman (?590) nose". In fact, the going rate ranges from much less than that to about ?2,600.

One prominent Tehran plastic surgeon says his patients include the daughters of senior Islamic clerics.

Its use in the Islamic republic was officially sanctioned by Ayatollah Khomeini, Iran's late leader and father of the Islamic revolution. He gave the go-ahead after being consulted by a religious figure whose daughter was due to be operated on by Iran's leading plastic surgeon, Mohammed Abidipour.

Surgeons say European and US companies are exploiting the trend by courting Iran in their drive to sell the equipment, usually secondhand, needed to carry out such operations.

Many explanations have been offered for the popularity of nose surgery, principally the requirement of Iran's Islamic dress code that women keep their hair and bodies covered, placing emphasis on the face.

Doctors also say young people have too much time on their hands because of a lack of social activities under the restrictive regime. At the same time, they aspire to the glamorous looks of Hollywood stars such as Jennifer Lopez, Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise, who are widely seen on satellite television despite it being officially banned in Iran.

Farzin Sarkarat, a jaw and facial surgeon practising in central Tehran, says he receives five or six patients each week, whom he described as "good looking", demanding surgery. "Most of them I reject," he said.

"It's a psychological problem. I generally refer them to the psychiatrist. Often he finds a mental problem and advises me not to operate."

Of even greater concern are the rising instances of facial disfigurement resulting from operations carried out by unqualified surgeons. There are just 115 licensed plastic surgeons in Iran, but rising demand has led at least 10 times that number from other disciplines, such as ear, nose and throat, to enter the field.

"Some terrible things are happening," said Dr Abidipour, who is the retired head of plastic surgery at Tehran University's medical faculty.

"I had a patient sent to me for corrective surgery who had undergone a nose operation 20 times, at a cost of US$120 a time. The operations had been carried out by the same doctor. Her nose was in a horrible state."

As a result, Iran's justice ministry has set up a special office for medical malpractice cases. Between 2001 and 2004, it dealt with 2,715 cases arising from cosmetic surgery, leading to 459 doctors receiving various forms of written rebuke and 21 being suspended for up to four years.

To some, that is little consolation. Sina Maadelat, 25, a Tehran taxi driver, has just paid ?168 for his third nose operation, having been dissatisfied with his first two.

"The first time there was a lot of bleeding ... I couldn't breathe for two weeks," he said.

"Then the doctor had problems removing the plastercast and the stitching. The tip fell down again. I don't think there was ever any problem with my nose. It was better before the operations."

Guardian Unlimited ? Guardian Newspapers Limited 2005