Photographer Ji Yeos shots of women in the aftermath of cosmetic surgery have transfixed online audiences. But has her work changed her teenage wish to go under the knife？

The photographer Ji Yeo had two dreams as an adolescent. One was to attend a prestigious college. The other was to have a full body transformation， top to toe， through cosmetic surgery. She spent her school years moving between the U.S. and South Korea， and when she had achieved her first ambition， starting university in Seoul， she began pursuing her second.

In her late teens she saw several cosmetic surgeons， more than 12 in all. Now 29， she says of that time： “I didnt like myself at all. I had very low self-esteem. I even hated my toenails！ I didnt like my hair. I didnt like my eyebrows.”But the consultations failed to clear up her concerns about surgery. “The more I did，” she says， “the more I questioned plastic surgery， because none of the doctors clearly explained how the surgeries would go， or the possible side effects. Not knowing every detail， I felt I just couldnt do it…I had wanted plastic surgery my entire life， but I realised maybe something outside of me was almost forcing me to want it.”

To test this theory， she stopped the consultations， and embarked on her Beauty Recovery Room project. She contacted women through an online cosmetic surgery forum in South Korea， and asked whether theyd agree to have their picture taken in the days after surgery， when they were still bandaged. In return， in some cases， she helped look after them. Around 10 women said yes， and the results are extraordinary. The images show women at their most vulnerable： bandaged， bruised and scarred， in some cases with weeping wounds. In a culture where women are heavily criticised for looking old， out of shape or tired—but also for any obvious signs of cosmetic surgery—the photos show a part of the process thats rarely seen， a moment when a woman is very clearly， unequivocally， a surgical subject.

The photos have exerted such a fascination， that they keep on circulating—both online， where they were most recently covered by Wired magazine—and on the gallery circuit. Ji was shortlisted for the 2013 Taylor Wessing photographic portrait prize， which led to an image of a woman in surgical stockings and head bandage appearing in the National Portrait Gallery in London. She has been exhibited in Brighton， is currently on show at three galleries in the U.S.， and has just been part of a two-person show in South Korea.

In her series Somewhere on the Path， I See You， she took portraits of women in an eating-disorder support group， and is currently at work on a project depicting cosmetic-surgery facilities in South Korea. “Plastic surgery clinics are huge here，” she says. “Its almost a hospital， not just a clinic. Its a 14-floor building， with entertainment rooms， everything…So Im taking photos of these interiors.”

In 2010， she dressed in a skin-coloured leotard and went to the bustling Brooklyn flea market alongside a sign saying， “I want to be perfect. Draw on me. Where should I get plastic surgery？” The performance was initially daunting， she says. “I was really nervous at the idea of putting myself into vulnerable situations， and I dont even like it when people stare at me on the street.” She found， in some cases， that men were looking very closely at specific parts of her body. “But during the performance I got really comfortable that people were coming up to me and saying they were surprised at the idea of me getting plastic surgeries.” They scrawled on the leotard and on her skin， “You are beautiful as you are，”“You already are perfect”; and “Not here” along her thighs. “It felt great，” she says. “It doesnt mean that I overcame all my fears or vulnerability， but it helped a little bit.”

Perhaps surprisingly， taking the photos for Beauty Recovery Room made her more accepting of the idea of plastic surgery. “I was really influenced by talking and interacting with the women—at the beginning I had a huge fear about surgery， about lying on the bed， but I dont feel any fear now. I became one of them， I guess. I feel like its very casual， its not that big a deal， and Im more fond of plastic surgery these days.”

South Korea is estimated to be the worlds largest market for cosmetic surgery， with a 2009 survey suggesting one in five women aged 19 to 49 in Seoul have had a procedure. Ji was surprised， at first， by the attitudes she encountered from her subjects， but came to understand them. “One woman was going to get a breast enlargement， and she got a bank loan for it， because she didnt have the money.” When an examination revealed a problem with one of her breasts， Ji assumed that any surgery was off. “But instead of getting a breast enlargement， she got a nose job and chin implant. So it wasnt about getting a breast enlargement， it was about getting plastic surgery， and enhancing their appearance. For most of them， the attitude was very casual. There was no fear， more excitement…Maybe its not true， but I felt even with the bandages and the pain they were more confident.”

Virginia Blum， a U.S. professor and author of the book Flesh Wounds： The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery has said that cosmetic surgery can be addictive， “because people potentially experience that swell of self-esteem， and then they want to have that experience again. I would argue that thats because its located in the realm of consumption. Youve consumed this body transformation， and have a really great feeling， and want to sustain it. I also argue， either way， that once youre in it， youre in it. You either have a bad cosmetic surgery result， and have to redo yourself， because the result was insufficient—or the result was really great， and you want to reproduce that intoxicated feeling.”

One of the women Ji photographed had had more than 16 surgeries in the space of six months. “Women continue to experience their body as more mutable，” Blum says， because， “women are raised around a fashion-magazine culture in which we realise we can work on these different body parts， so we divide and conquer. Plastic surgery approaches the body in much the same way women are trained from girlhood to approach their bodies. And male bodies are not quite as available to that divide-and-conquer model， although I think they are becoming increasingly so.”

The power and discomfort of Jis images arises， at least in part， through her own ambivalence. She says the reaction to them has differed according to culture. “Audiences in the U.S. and Europe seem to be more surprised by the images than a Korean audience. Koreans usually see the photos and instantly try to figure out what they had done—so its a guessing game. ‘Oh， shes done eyes and nose or ‘Shes done liposuction”. Living between the two cultures， Ji says she still has a desire to get plastic surgery—she might one day have a facelift—“but then theres another me saying，‘no， youre beautiful as you are. Theyre always fighting.” Can she live happily with that？ “I think Ive got used to it.”

攝影師池茹在青少年時期擁有兩個夢想。第一個夢想是入讀名牌大學(xué)。第二個夢想是通過整容手術(shù)進行從頭到腳徹底的身體改造。在求學(xué)時期，她一直往返于美國和韓國之間，當(dāng)她實現(xiàn)了自己的第一個夢想，在首爾入讀大學(xué)后，她開始追求自己的第二個夢想。

池茹十八九歲的時候看過一些美容整形外科醫(yī)師，算起來不止12位。她如今29歲，她說當(dāng)時的自己：“我一點都不喜歡自己，非常自卑。我甚至連自己的腳趾甲都討厭！我也不喜歡自己的頭發(fā)，不喜歡自己的眉毛?！钡悄切┳稍儾]有消除她心中對手術(shù)的疑慮?！拔以绞亲稍儯彼f道，“便對整容手術(shù)愈加懷疑，因為沒有一位醫(yī)生能夠清楚地解釋手術(shù)結(jié)果如何，或是可能的副作用。無法了解每一個細(xì)節(jié)，我覺得自己做不到……我一直都想要進行整容手術(shù)，但是我意識到可能是外界的力量迫使自己急切地想要接受整容手術(shù)。

為了證實這個推測，她停止了手術(shù)咨詢，并開始專注于自己的“美麗恢復(fù)室”的攝影項目。她通過韓國一個整形手術(shù)網(wǎng)絡(luò)論壇聯(lián)系到一些女性，并詢問她們是否愿意在手術(shù)后的恢復(fù)期接受拍攝，恢復(fù)期間她們還纏著繃帶。作為回報，在某些情況下，她幫忙照看她們。大約有10名女性同意了拍攝，效果十分令人震驚。照片拍攝的是這些女性最為脆弱的時期：纏著繃帶、鼻青臉腫、傷痕累累，有些人的傷口還在滲液。我們身處這樣一個文化中：女性不僅會因顯老、身材走樣或面容疲倦而被狠批——就是身上有任何明顯的整容手術(shù)跡象也會備受苛責(zé)——這些照片呈現(xiàn)出整容手術(shù)罕見的一部分過程，這時候的女人明確無疑是一個“被開刀”的對象。

這些照片在網(wǎng)上引起了巨大的關(guān)注，被不斷轉(zhuǎn)載，最近在網(wǎng)上被《聯(lián)線》雜志刊登，另外也在畫廊巡回展出。池茹入圍了2013年的“泰勒·韋辛肖像攝影獎”，由此，身著手術(shù)長襪和頭綁繃帶的女人肖像出現(xiàn)在倫敦的國家肖像美術(shù)館里。這幅女人肖像曾在布萊頓展出，目前正在美國的三個美術(shù)館展出，也在不久前在韓國一場二人藝展中展出。

在池茹的攝影系列《路途中與你相遇》中，她為“飲食紊亂癥互助組”中的女子拍照。她目前正著手于一個展現(xiàn)韓國整形美容設(shè)備的項目?！霸陧n國，整形外科診所都很大”她說道。“幾乎是醫(yī)院的規(guī)模，而不僅僅是家診所。這是一棟14層的建筑，帶康樂室，應(yīng)有盡有……因此我拍攝下它們的內(nèi)部結(jié)構(gòu)?！?/p>

2010年，池茹曾穿著肉色緊身連衣褲，站在熙熙攘攘的布魯克林跳蚤市場中，旁邊放著一個標(biāo)牌，寫著，“我想要更完美，請在我身上畫出來。我哪里需要做整形手術(shù)改進？”這個任務(wù)最初讓我膽怯，她說道。“一想到要把自己置于脆弱的境況中，我就很不安，我也不喜歡大街上的人都盯著我看?！彼l(fā)現(xiàn)，有時候，男性們會非常關(guān)注她身體的某些特定部位?！暗瞧陂g也有人走過來和我說他們非常驚訝我需要做整形手術(shù)，這讓我感到欣慰?！彼麄冊诔厝愕木o身衣和皮膚上涂畫，“你本來就很美麗，”“你已經(jīng)很完美了”;還有在她的大腿上寫下“絕對不是這里”?！澳歉杏X很棒，”她說道?！斑@并不意味著我克服了所有的恐懼和脆弱，但是確實有所幫助?！?/p>

也許有點意外，但“美麗恢復(fù)室”的攝影項目使池茹更接受了整形這種想法?！芭c那些女性交談和互動，確實使我受到了影響——最初我對于整容手術(shù)和整天躺在床上有莫大的恐懼，但現(xiàn)在不會。我想我已成為她們中的一員。我感覺那是很隨意的事情，并沒什么大不了，我現(xiàn)在更加喜歡整形手術(shù)了?！?/p>

韓國被認(rèn)為是世界上最大的整形手術(shù)市場，2009年的調(diào)查顯示，在首爾，19-49歲的女性中，有五分之一的人接受過整形手術(shù)。最初池茹對拍攝對象的態(tài)度感到非常驚訝，但后來她開始理解她們了。“一位女士要去隆胸，因為她自己無法支付手術(shù)費，就只能貸款來支付這筆費用?！焙髞硭ㄟ^檢查發(fā)現(xiàn)自己一邊乳房有問題時，池茹以為她會打消整形的念頭?！暗撬皇菦]做隆胸手術(shù)，換了做隆鼻和下巴植入手術(shù)。所以，重點不在于隆胸還是別的手術(shù)，而是她們就是想整容，想美化外表。她們中大部分人的態(tài)度都十分隨意。沒有恐懼，更多的是興奮……或許這不是真的，但是我感覺到，即使纏著繃帶，忍受著劇痛，她們看起來自信多了?！?/p>

弗吉尼亞·布盧姆，一位美國教授兼《肉體創(chuàng)傷：整容手術(shù)的文化》一書作者曾宣稱，整容手術(shù)會使人上癮，“因為經(jīng)歷過自尊心的膨脹，他們就想要再次經(jīng)歷同樣的體驗。我認(rèn)為這屬于消費領(lǐng)域的議題。你消費了這項身體改造服務(wù)之后，感覺非常棒，并想要維持改變后的身體。我也認(rèn)為，無論以何種方式，你一旦接觸，便深陷其中。你或是得到一個失敗的整形手術(shù)結(jié)果，而不得不重新接受手術(shù)，因為結(jié)果不理想——或者結(jié)果太好，你想要再次享受那份美妙醉人的感覺。”

池茹拍攝的其中一位女性在半年中接受了超過16次的整容手術(shù)?！芭詡兿胍掷m(xù)體驗身體可變的感覺，”布盧姆說道，因為，“女性們成長于一個時尚雜志文化中，我們意識到可以改造身體不同的部位，所以我們分而治之。整容手術(shù)處理身體的方式和女性們從小對待自己身體的方式幾乎是一致的。而男性們的身體則不適用于分而治之的模式，雖然我覺得他們也逐漸變得適用這種模式。”

池茹所攝肖像帶來的震撼和沖擊，多少從她自身的矛盾糾結(jié)中透現(xiàn)。她說對于不同的文化，人們對肖像的反應(yīng)各有不同?！懊绹撕蜌W洲人看見這些肖像時的反應(yīng)比韓國人更為震驚。韓國人一看到這些肖像就立即試圖斷定肖像中的人都做過什么手術(shù)——因此這是個猜謎游戲?！?，她的眼睛和鼻子都整過或者‘她做過抽脂手術(shù)”。生活在兩種文化之間，池茹說自己還是有整容的欲望——她可能有一天會接受拉皮手術(shù)——“但是這時候會有另一個我說道，‘不，你本來就很美。兩種想法之間總是在作斗爭。”她能夠就這樣快樂地生活下去嗎？“我想我已經(jīng)習(xí)慣了?！?/p>