Jocelyn Wildenstein’s was the face that launched a thousand trout pouts

The late socialite, once dubbed ‘Catwoman’ for her extreme cosmetic surgery, was a trendsetter whose multi-million-dollar procedures helped make tweakments the new normal, says Rowan Pelling

For decades, Jocelyn Wildenstein – who has died, aged 84 (or 79, if you believe her toyboy lover Lloyd Klein) was the walking, talking embodiment of a cautionary tale about the perils of plastic surgery.

In her youth, as a photograph on Instagram proves, she was a naturally gorgeous woman with a passing resemblance to Faye Dunaway. But, blaming her billionaire former husband Alec for hating “old people”, the socialite underwent £2m-worth of cosmetic procedures.

These included at least seven facelifts, umpteen collagen injections, eye-reshaping surgery, excessive lip filler, and she even had her skin pigment darkened in the pursuit of a more exotic appearance.

Her intent was to look more “feline”, like the big cats her ex-husband became obsessed with after owning an estate in Kenya. Instead, she ended up with a face so distorted, she was dubbed “Catwoman” and “the bride of Wildenstein”, a cruel reference to the 1935 movie The Bride of Frankenstein. It was reported that when she visited her plastic surgeon, other patients fled his waiting room in fear they could end up looking equally bizarre.

Even so, the once obscenely-wealthy divorcee (she was awarded a record $2.5bn by the courts) disputed the obvious fact of her facial work. As recently as last August, she told a tabloid: “I haven’t had plastic surgery – I’m scared of what can happen and I don’t like to have something heavy.” A statement carrying all the conviction of a small child protesting they haven’t eaten any chocolate when their hands and mouth are covered with brown smears.

But, looking back, she was a trendsetter – a weathervane pointing towards the coming “enhancement” revolution.

When she became famous in the 1990s, as a result of her divorce battle and bizarre face, few guessed that abnormal looks would become utterly normal within 30 years. When Wildenstein had her face resculpted, the procedures were still, for the most part, a wealthy woman’s pursuit. But that was before cheaper non-surgical interventions, the group-tweaked Kardashians and the peer-pressure power of social media influencers.

Now, you can sit on the London Underground and count the trout pouts around you. Perfectly normal women in everyday jobs (notably dental receptionists, flight attendants and department store assistants) have lips as inflated as baboons’ bottoms. Mouths so impossibly swollen that you imagine kissing them would be like being engulfed by a bouncy castle.

By the time Wildenstein set up her Instagram account, she was just one of many bizarre-looking individuals competing for the world’s attention. The Ukrainian “model” Anastasia Pokreshchuk has had so much filler in her cheeks that chipmunks could sue her for trashing their reputation for cuteness.

Another so-called model, Pixee Fox, has had six ribs removed, a jaw reconstruction and surgery to make her ears more elfish. Meanwhile, the new normal involves rising numbers of young women having their breasts surgically removed to become non-binary or trans men, including Hollywood star Elliot Page.

No wonder that my twenty-something nieces didn’t even think Wildenstein was that weird-looking or remarkable. In fact, the Overton window for acceptable notions of “beauty” has moved so far that people regularly applaud Nicole Kidman for looking youthful and glamorous when her forehead hasn’t creased for 20 years (she attributes her youthful looks to good skincare and healthy lifestyle choices).

It seems to me that the legions of women who never age, like Ursula Andress in the film She, are actually far more aberrant than those who advertise their surgeries. Meanwhile, for women my age (about to turn 57, since you ask) who haven’t had “tweakments”, it’s an ever-greater battle of will to feel attractive for your age in a sea of Botox and products designed to puff out every facial trough.

My own favoured antidote to the Peter Pans of social media is to follow genuine model Paulina Porizkova, grey-haired and radiantly beautiful at 59, with the audacity to display wrinkles and claim “I’m the best I’ve ever been”. Amen to embracing ageing. And a sad farewell to Wildenstein, the face that launched a thousand trout pouts.