Jennifer Aniston turned out at the Emmy FYC event for her acclaimed drama, The Morning Show, this past weekend, and her look was undeniably captivating.
But while many agreed that the actress looked nothing short of stunning in a sleeveless, deep red dress, complemented by a matching ruby pendant, there were other question marks that arose regarding her appearance. Namely, what sort of plastic surgery (if any) she has undergone in recent months.
The 55-year-old plays TV anchor Alex Levy on The Morning Show, and the Apple TV+ series has proven wildly popular.
The show’s success – coupled, of course, with Aniston’s iconic past as a star on arguably the most successful sitcom of all time, Friends – has seen her reputation surge in recent years. Aniston has never really experienced a ‘dip’ in her career, but her stock has certainly enjoyed a revival since The Morning Show first aired.
Indeed, for anyone old enough to have lived through the era of Friends, it’s almost strange to accept that in five years time, Aniston will be 60 years old.
Time flies, as they say, and even the wealthiest celebrities can’t help but age in front of our faces.James Devaney/WireImage
Or can they?
Well, it’s certainly not something the majority of them readily embrace. Quite the opposite in fact: those with inexhaustible bank accounts tend to doggedly fight the aging process – at least in so far as appearance is concerned – undergoing operations and treatments in a bid to keep themselves looking as young as possible.
Incidentally, Jennifer Aniston was reportedly seen leaving a well-known plastic surgery clinic in Connecticut only a few months ago, prompting speculation that she had gone under the knife.
The clinic in question, The Retreat At Split Rock, is said to specialize in expert upper and lower face lifts, costing around $50,000 to $100,000 each, as well as brow and eye lifts that cost around $30,000 each.
It hasn’t been officially confirmed whether or not Aniston underwent treatment – let’s be honest, which celebrities are completely open and honest about this sort of stuff? – but there are clearly a fair few people online who suspect her look isn’t one hundred percent natural.
Following her appearance at the aforementioned Emmy FYC in New York on Sunday, certain individuals couldn’t resist themselves in pointing out that she looked different to usual.
“What has she done to her face?’’ one wrote in the comments section of a Daily Mail article.
A second added: “Jen is desperately trying to hold on to her old Friends looks. It can’t happen, she is much older now […]’’
“Her face looks weird because of all the work she has had done. She would have looked better with less,” opined a third.
Privileged Parents Excused Their Child for Kicking My Seat on the Flight, Claiming “He’s Just a Kid!”, Karma Delivered Them a Teachable Moment
On a long flight, a woman’s patience is tested by a child who kicks her seat and parents who ignore the disruption. What begins as a frustrating ordeal soon takes a surprising turn, revealing that karma has a way of delivering unexpected lessons.
As I settled into my aisle seat for a seven-hour flight, I hoped for some much-needed relaxation. With a book in hand, noise-canceling headphones on, and a good playlist ready, I thought I was prepared for the journey ahead. The cabin was packed and the air felt stuffy, but I was willing to endure it for a peaceful trip.
Then it began. A soft thumping at the back of my seat started to grow louder. Initially, I dismissed it, thinking a child was just adjusting in their seat. But the thumping became a steady rhythm, kick, kick, kick, each hit harder than the last.
I turned around and saw a boy, around six or seven, swinging his legs and grinning as if he were having a great time. His sneakers repeatedly slammed into my seat, creating a mini drum concert. His parents, seated nearby, were glued to their phones, completely unaware of the chaos their child was causing. I hoped the boy would tire out soon, or that his parents would notice, but the kicks only intensified.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I turned around, offering a polite smile and asked the parents to ask their son to stop kicking my seat. The mother barely acknowledged me, dismissing my request with a “He’s just a kid!” before returning to her phone. I tried again, but the father was too engrossed in a video to care. Sensing his parents’ indifference, the boy kicked even harder, laughing as if he were winning some game at my expense.
I pressed the call button for the flight attendant, hoping she could help. She arrived, friendly and professional, and I explained the situation. She approached the family, asking them kindly to stop the boy from kicking my seat. For a brief moment, there was silence.
But as soon as she walked away, the kicks resumed, even more forceful this time. Frustrated, I stood up and spoke louder, asking them again to control their child. The mother rolled her eyes, and the father muttered something dismissive. The boy laughed and kicked harder. At this point, I was fed up. I called the attendant again, asking if I could switch to another seat. She returned shortly with good news: there was a seat available in first class.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my belongings and followed her to the front of the plane. The first-class section was a welcome relief, spacious, quiet, and free of children. I settled into my new seat, and the tension melted away. I was finally able to relax, enjoying a drink and diving into my book.
As the flight continued smoothly, I overheard the attendants talking about my old seatmates. The boy had found a new target for his kicks, an elderly woman who had taken my place. When she asked him to stop, the mother snapped at her, escalating the situation to a shouting match that caught the attention of the flight crew. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the elderly woman but couldn’t deny the poetic justice unfolding. As we prepared to land, I noticed security vehicles waiting by the gate.
When we disembarked, I saw the family being escorted off the plane by security officers. The boy, who had been so bold earlier, was now crying, clinging to his mother. The parents looked embarrassed, no longer the dismissive people they had been. I left the airport feeling a sense of satisfaction that surprised me. Karma had intervened, allowing me to enjoy my first-class experience and witness a bit of justice served.
As I walked past the family, I couldn’t help but smile at them. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the closure I needed. Sometimes, the universe has a way of balancing things out, and that day, it certainly did. With my book finished and my flight experience greatly improved, I walked away with a story that would surely entertain friends in the future.
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