I Spent My Life Savings on a Facelift—It Was the Best Investment In Myself I Ever Made

Nothing gets us more excited than talking about a not-so-little tweakment or a nip-tuck procedure. In the spirit of transparency, Marie Claire’s aesthetics column, Life in Plastic, delivers a first-hand peek into what goes on behind the doctor’s door.

Jenny Hutt is a 55-year-old woman living in NYC. She received a facelift and CO2 laser resurfacing with Dr. Marc Zimbler. This is her story, as told to Marie Claire, edited for length and clarity.

I went through a really rough several years. I lost the radio show that I’d had for two decades. My father passed away the following week—and that impacted my finances dramatically. Then, 12 months later, my marriage imploded; my husband and I are still separated. I had to sell my house. I changed careers and started practicing law again. My daughter, who at the time was 24, had a heart attack. She’s totally fine now and just an incredible warrior. But it was a lot—all at once. And it started showing on my face.

I felt like I couldn’t focus on anything—my clients, my family, people in my life—because I felt so insecure. I always held my Zoom camera at an angle. Not a day went by when I wasn’t using a filter. I even downloaded that FaceTune app, which is the worst concept in the history of apps because it changes everything so slightly that you become used to looking at this altered version of yourself. I can admit it wasn’t my finest moment, but it was better than actually showing myself online because the insecurity was just so all-consuming. I couldn’t look at myself anymore. Honestly, I didn’t recognize myself. It seemed like all the stress and the trauma I had gone through were living on my face.

I started ruminating about doing something to my face—and ruminating and ruminating and ruminating. I didn’t know how I was going to pay for a facelift; they’ve gotten so ridiculously expensive, but at the same time, you don’t want to f—ck around with your face. No way. I eventually came across Dr. Marc Zimbler when I was doing my research, and I heard that his pricing was more reasonable than most of the other doctors, so I scheduled an appointment.

Now, the icing on the cake. Right before my consultation, I went to this Thrive Causemetics event, and there was this beautiful woman sitting across from me. Her neck was perfect. Mind you, my neck was like the straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to wanting a facelift. It was the opposite of the icing on the cake. This woman was just stunning. She looked older than me—but not. So obviously I ask her how she has this perfect neck, and it turns out she had a facelift with Dr. Zimbler a few months prior.

At this point, I talked to my kids and decided to take whatever savings I had and put it right into my face. I really looked at it as an investment.

The Consultation

If you look at my before pictures, I had Trump’s neck. I really needed a facelift. I knew I really needed it because my best friend, who is a dermatologist, started telling me Botox wasn’t going to help me anymore. This was a year before I actually went through with it, mind you. I went into the consultation thinking he would be my hero. He kind of was, but he was also very clear on what I did need and what I didn’t. He actually was very clear that he wasn’t going to pull me as much as I thought I wanted him to because he prioritizes natural results and doesn’t ever want you to look like a freak. “Making a facelift look natural and not overdone is an art form that takes years of experience and aesthetic judgment,” says Dr. Zimbler.

The Day of My Facelift Surgery

I had nerves. I didn’t know what I was going to look like—all I knew was that I wanted to be alive and heal. Other than that, I thought very little about it, and I didn’t want anything to stop me from doing it.

My Facelift Recovery

When I first saw myself with all the bandages and stuff, I was like, "Oh my God, I'm so gorgeous. I look magnificent.” My friends still laugh about it—I looked like a freaking alien, like Jocelyn Wildenstein. It was bad, but I think I was just so happy that I went through with it.

I didn't have any pain. I had this incredible nurse, too. Dr. Zimbler’s office set me up with their incredible surgical coordinator, who then connected me with my nurse, Natasha, who stayed with me at the hotel while I recovered those first couple of days. I was like, “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” She set me up, told me what to buy, what medicines to have, and what healing stuff to have. I made bins. “Nursing is really essential for the first 48 hours after surgery, and at a minimum, 24 hours. They dramatically help with the recovery process,” says Dr. Zimbler. “Any patient I've ever had who questioned why I required the nurse was so incredibly grateful they had one after the process was over. Typically, nurses ice the patient continuously, check the drains (if the patient requires them), assist with anti-bruising regimen and IV infusions, and most importantly, monitor for post-op bleeding/hematomas.”

Dr. Zimbler shows up the next day to check in on me in the hotel room. He makes the house calls; he gives you his cell. He really is on it and available, so I felt very taken care of. There was some discomfort but no pain at all. I went to a wedding within three and a half weeks.

The other thing is that it’s a real surgery. I feel like because it’s an elective surgery, sometimes people might not think it’s real. It’s heavy-duty surgery. I had one side heal more slowly than the other side. I wasn’t exactly symmetrical—it took time. I was really tired, too for a couple of months. You can't go into a facelift looking for perfection. You have to go into a facelift knowing you’ll be better off than where you started. My bar was so low because I was so down, but it ended up exceeding my wildest expectations.

My Final Thoughts On Getting a Facelift

I was so much darker in spirit than I am now. That’s not my default. My default is happy. I have optimism in my belly. And there came a point where it was gone, and my fire was out. I couldn’t get away from how much I disliked seeing myself in the mirror. I know that sounds incredibly vain and awful, but it’s also human nature. I’ve been through so much, and there was this part of me that knew this was the first step to getting back to myself and figuring out who I am. When you have a huge identity shift—like your marital status, your daughter going through something crazy, your job—you stop recognizing yourself.

When you add that to your physical face being unrecognizable, it just becomes too much to bear. I’m proud of myself for actually going through with it. I knew I could do it and be ok. It’s not a matter of life and death, but it felt like that for me. And from the moment I did it onward—it was just the best decision I could have ever made.

The removal of all that excess skin feels like the removal of the trauma. It’s symbolic. I needed to do something to make myself feel better. It might be taking a trip somewhere for two months, buying a dress, buying a bag you’ve been eyeing. For me, it was plastic surgery. It empowered me like a new briefcase. Sometimes you work from the outside in, and it can make all the difference. It really did. There’s a lightness to me that didn’t exist before. It changed my life.

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