Among ROC’s other clients were prominent organizations of medical professionals specializing in cosmetic procedures. For them, my role was to coordinate conferences, report on annual meetings, manage media events and promote the newest advances in cosmetic enhancements. In time, I become fairly well educated in laser treatments, surgical procedures and all manner of techniques and technologies designed to enhance one’s physical appearance, though not necessarily, their self-esteem.
My restless nature, combined with the emergence of digital communications and social media, inevitably led to the dissolution of ROC as a provider of marketing communications services in the traditional sense. By the fall of 2019, I had packed up, unscrewed the brass plate from my office door and left the building with no idea what would come next. All I knew was that something would, and, ASAP(S), it did.
The American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery was looking for a public relations manager and, in their estimation, I fit the bill. The time I was employed there resulted two vastly distinct recollections – one, absurdly entertaining, the other unimaginably tragic. Let’s start with the entertaining one first.
It was 2019 and ASAPS was planning its weeklong Annual Meeting being, aptly, held at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas. The months of preplanning, organizing and logistics required to pull off this extravaganza were grueling, but not without payoff. The part of the event I recall most vividly was what I refer to as, the “Parade of Wives” or (sic) “plus ones”.
One especially warm, desert evening, ASAPS hosted an elaborate cocktail party at the hotel’s outdoor lounge. A carpeted pathway was laid, surrounding the spot-lit pool. Champagne stations handed out enough flutes to fill an orchestra while a trio of musicians suffused the air with the sound of music.
The members, accompanied by an assortment of cosmetic enhancement professionals, lined up at the entrance. In suits and bowties they filed in, guests in tow, in cocktail dresses accessorized with high heels and dangly earrings.
The occasion, however, was more than just a networking event; it was a pageant of patients for doctors to showcase their proudest aesthetic achievements. Sculptured noses, amplified bosoms, slimmed thighs, tightened jowls, bag-less eyes and lifted butts provided a feast for the eyes comparable only to the sumptuous buffet, minus the crowns traditionally awarded to the most appealing dishes.
Adding to the ridiculousness, around that time an article about toe rings appeared an issue of The Week magazine. In all seriousness, the reporter claimed that toe rings, of all things, were clearly the work of the devil. That was, until something, inconceivably evil did occur that put everything into razor-sharp perspective.
Article: ToeRingsareBack2
On the morning of September 11, 2001, the entire staff of ASAPS in New York stared in horror and disbelief at our office television as the Twin Towers began to tumble.
