Those of us whose medical expertise extends no farther than applying a plaster can only gaze in awe at the remarkable reconstruction of Davinia Douglass.
The 29-year-old’s face was trashed in the 7/7 bombings that hit London five years ago. The photograph of her being led away from Edgware Road Station in a ghoulish protective face mask became one of the atrocity’s iconic images.
Yet today, not even such scarring as remains can diminish the fact that a handsome young woman is once again ‘back in the room’.
Everyone responsible for this amazing come-back should take a bow, yet even as I marvel at their work, I am struck by this thought: what wonders cosmetic surgery can do when asked to restore Nature, yet what botch-ups it so often produces when asked to improve upon it.
Do you suppose the Botox brigade and those who pander to them will hear that penny drop as they contemplate the pictures of Davinia Douglass, or will it be drowned out by the clamour of ego and rustle of notes?