In Damascus, temperatures have been rising to 40°C, while electricity outages continue. Increased rationing means that these cut-offs are only likely to worsen. No air conditioning, no fans.

Since before the beginning of summer, social media has reflected society’s focus on body image. Opening Facebook, you’ll find advertisements for intensive summer camps promising to help you transform your body in record time, while Instagram ads remind you to hurry to achieve a “shiny, hair-free, fuzz-free, and poreless body.”

The “summer body” phenomenon is not unique to Syria; it’s a global trend. In 2022, Spain’s Ministry of Equality even launched a campaign encouraging women to go to the beach, featuring drawings of women more representative of natural human bodies. The slogan read: “Summer is ours too.” But in Damascus, who is summer for?

The Weight Loss Industry

Despite widespread poverty in Syria, the “kilo trade” – the weight loss industry – and cosmetic procedures have become increasingly popular. Between the Al-Qassaa and Al-Maliki neighborhoods in central Damascus, we counted more than thirty centers offering non-surgical cosmetic services, many of which also provide diet prescriptions. These establishments often operate chaotically, without proper medical or legal oversight. Some nutrition departments are run by sports trainers “interested in nutrition science,” or by individuals who completed brief training workshops.

Jumana’s experience highlights the lack of regulation or specialization in these beauty centers. After seeing an Instagram ad for a nutritionist at one of the most famous beauty centers in Damascus, she was met with long wait times and unprofessional treatment. “After waiting for more than half an hour, the specialist finally saw me,” she told Al-Jumhuriya. “Her assistant took my weight and height, and then the specialist scolded me for neglecting my body and appearance. She offered me a medicine she had made herself, but I refused. Then she handed me a pre-prepared diet plan that was the same for everyone, and told me, “Come back in a week and stick to the diet. The main thing is to cut down on sugar and eat less.”’

Lara*, a qualified nutritionist, explains that the main problem with this field in Damascus is that the majority of practitioners are not specialists. Many have only completed brief workshops which provide limited general information, overlooking crucial factors like psychological state, lifestyle, and medical history. As she puts it, it is impossible to start a plan without considering the client’s health, psychological well-being, and social situation. Losing weight is a holistic process of life improvement, requiring a personalized approach for each individual.

The Cosmetic Surgery Industry

The cosmetic surgery industry has also boomed in Damascus. Last summer, on a rare visit to one of Damascus’s upscale cafes, I found that my naturally round face stood out among all the chiseled jaws, popularized by celebrities like Nadine Njeim, Angelina Jolie, and Maya Diab and often achieved through Texas plastic surgery (also known as “jaw exposure surgery”) to accentuate the lower jaw and highlight the chin. In some areas of Damascus, faces have become like designer accessories, showcasing popular cosmetic trends.

The cost of facial contouring with Texas plastic surgery averages around $150, while some Botox on the forehead costs $50, and lip fillers are priced at about $60, bringing the total for these facial enhancements to approximately $210. These procedures are considered non-surgical and are performed in beauty centers, clinics, and even barbershops. More invasive procedures like slimming surgeries or rhinoplasties require hospital stays. In Syria, the prevalence of these treatments has led to a culture where plastic surgery enthusiasts can identify which doctor performed the work based on the techniques used on the face.

The demand for cosmetic procedures has grown so much that nearly every neighborhood in Damascus has one or more centers offering non-surgical cosmetic services. The high demand for these procedures is evident when visiting any center, where waiting times for a consultation with a reputable doctor can reach three to four hours.

Symbolic Attempts at Regulation

Syria has become one of the most prominent destinations for medical tourism in the region, particularly for cosmetic surgery. In addition to the skill of its doctors, the cost of weight loss surgeries in Syria is among the lowest in the world. However, this sector is plagued by a chaotic lack of regulation, largely due to the influence of wealthy center owners and their high-profile clientele within the Syrian community.

Early last year, the regime’s Ministry of Health issued a directive to try to regulate cosmetic procedures in Syria, by limiting these practices to dermatologists, plastic surgeons, and otolaryngologists, allowing each to perform only those medical procedures within their field of specialization. This decision came after numerous centers in Damascus, as well as in Latakia, Tartous, and Aleppo, were found to be offering non-surgical cosmetic procedures such as Botox injections, and more serious interventions like liposuction, which require a higher level of sterility and medical precision.

The problem extends beyond the medical sector. Qahtan Ibrahim, Director of Health Affairs in Damascus Governorate, told Al-Watan newspaper that, “70 percent of women’s hairdressers practice cosmetic procedures without a license, which includes Botox injections, tattoos, and other simple cosmetic services.”

However, like many regime decisions, the regulation of cosmetic procedures was largely symbolic. Before the end of last year, Dr. Youssef Mustafa, head of the Syrian Medical Association in Tartous, told Al-Watan, “Great chaos now dominates this field. The Syndicate has issued warnings and sent letters to the Health Directorate to monitor these establishments and inquire about their licensing, as some centers have been opened without anyone’s knowledge.”

Job Opportunities in a Challenging Market

Each year, thousands of pharmacists enter the Syrian job market. According to Dr. Albert Farah, head of the Rif Dimashq Pharmacists Association, the Faculty of Pharmacy in Damascus alone graduates between 5,500 and 5,600 students annually.

These graduates face limited career options. They can work as pharmacy assistants for a monthly salary of 900,000 Syrian pounds at best (roughly 60 USD – not even enough to cover transportation costs). Alternatively, they might find work with pharmaceutical companies as distributors or in labs, often without prior experience, earning between one and two million Syrian pounds (roughly 70 to 140 USD).

Faced with these challenges, many pharmacists turn to institutes offering workshops in non-surgical cosmetic procedures. For about half a million Syrian pounds, they can learn to perform modern injections like Botox, fillers, and “freshness needles” that temporarily enhance skin glow.

Lana, a pharmacy student, took this route during her fourth year of study at the Faculty of Pharmacy. Enrolling in a non-surgical cosmetics course, she spent five days learning facial anatomy, Botox, and fillers, and afterwards secured a job with a plastic surgeon.

Lana views this as a win-win situation. She works for a well-known doctor who frequently travels to Latakia and Erbil for major surgeries, and she keeps the clinic open in his absence by handling “light procedures.” “If he didn’t trust me and my work, there’s no way he would have hired me,” Lana says. “His reputation would be on the line.”

However, this trend raises concerns. Two years ago, Dr. Rizq al-Farouh, a plastic surgery specialist and Secretary of the Syrian Association of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery Physicians, warned about the rise of these paid training courses, considering them a danger to society as they are not regulated by the Ministry of Health. “A specialist doctor studies plastic surgery for six years to earn an academic license approved by the Ministry to practice,” Dr. Farouh explained. “Someone who has taken a course lasting just a few hours cannot be authorized to perform these procedures based on a training certificate.”

Unethical Practices

The case of Sarah, aged 17, highlights the ethical concerns in Syria’s cosmetic industry. She contacted one of the most renowned plastic surgeons in Syria via WhatsApp to ask him about undergoing surgery to lose twenty kilograms quickly before summer. Alarmingly, the surgeon encouraged her to schedule the operation immediately after her secondary exams – without any clinical examination.

This particular doctor is considered one of the most famous surgeons in Damascus, and his colleagues vouch for his surgical expertise. His clinic in central Damascus is one of the busiest. However, in recent years, he has shifted his focus to the more lucrative cosmetics business, to the extent that his clinic now employs a team of female trainees who inject Botox and fillers under his supervision. Recently, the doctor has even stopped performing surgeries for burn or accident victims, focusing instead on more popular cosmetic procedures.

Of course, the lack of oversight in Syria enables such practices. Licensing a center in Damascus requires just one doctor’s presence, with minimal monitoring or regulation by authorities thereafter.

Dr. Khaled, a general surgeon in Damascus, confirms that weight-loss surgeries are often performed without adhering to established medical guidelines. “Unfortunately, these procedures have become a trend,” he notes, “often done without oversight and, in many cases, without clear medical indication.” Dr. Khaled refuses to perform such surgeries without legitimate medical need, emphasizing the significant risks involved in any surgical procedure.

Advertising and Body Shaming

Cosmetic centers primarily rely on social media for promotion. Facebook groups such as “Where Did You Get Plastic Surgery?” and “Plastic Surgery in Syria” have over 200,000 members. These platforms serve as spaces for sharing experiences and for centers to enhance their image through promoters and advertisements (real or fake).

On Instagram, centers directly target potential customers, including men, especially by marketing hair transplants as life-changing procedures that can boost confidence and social appeal. There has also been a noticeable effort to normalize cosmetic procedures for men over the past two years. This trend is evident after university breaks, with many students returning with post-rhinoplasty bandages. Procedures such as hair transplants, slimming treatments, chin and jawline contouring, Botox, fillers, and laser hair removal are popular among both men and women. This demand drives cosmetic centers to collaborate with Instagram influencers to promote these services.

The centers employ all sorts of marketing tactics, such as creating problems that don’t really exist – like advertising solutions for “double chins” – or offering discounts on Botox when you get a filler injection. The most powerful marketing tool, of course, is endorsement from social media influencers, who craft a parallel lifestyle with looks that may not appeal to everyone and certainly don’t align with the income of the average Syrian citizen.

The Cost of a “Summer Body”

The cost of a gym membership in Syria ranges from 70,000 to 500,000 Syrian pounds per month. Lower-priced memberships often lack amenities like hot showers, air conditioning, quality equipment, proper ventilation, and cleanliness.

Salma’s story illustrates the challenges many face. After struggling with excess weight for three years and visiting more than five different nutrition clinics in Damascus, she found little help beyond the generic diet sheets. One doctor even suggested gastric sleeve surgery for her 30-kilogram weight loss goal. However, her fear of surgery and financial constraints prevented her from going through with the surgery, leaving her caught in a cycle of unhealthy diets that caused severe hair loss and digestive disorders. This continued until she began working with a nutritionist who tailored her meals and provided specific guidance on diet and exercise. Her current plan costs her one and a half million Syrian pounds per month, which is equivalent to six times the salary of a government employee.

Sally* has lived in Erbil for five years and has spent the last three years trying to save for a gastric sleeve operation, which costs between 1,000 and 1,500 US dollars. Unable to pay the full amount, she had to postpone the surgery. Sally told Aljumhuriya.net, “Thankfully, I don’t have health problems due to my weight, but my husband prefers slim women, and I can’t bear the thought of someone else catching his eye.”

Sally’s story is as old as time: a woman pressured by her husband, fiancé, lover, in-laws, and society to have a slim waist like actresses and celebrities (disregarding her natural body shape, or the fact that she has four children).

Travel plans often accelerate these beauty pursuits. Reem was determined to finish her laser hair removal sessions before leaving Syria, even though she could hardly afford them. She anticipated that, after leaving the country, it might take her years to secure a job with a decent income. Meanwhile, her friend Leila opted for a $500 rhinoplasty in Damascus after learning that the same procedure would cost her $4,000 in Germany with a doctor of comparable skill.

Many women, like Reem and Leila, are trying to save amounts ranging from a $50 Botox injection to a $2,000 body sculpting surgery tailored to their desires. According to Nour, an employee at a beauty center in Damascus, most clients at the center’s clinics are brides-to-be, leading the centers to promote bridal packages that include facial rejuvenation treatments, laser hair removal, stretch mark removal sessions, and treatments to “bleach intimate areas.”

What all these procedures have in common is the commodification of women, shaping them to meet societal expectations of what a woman should look like. In a world where the face and body are considered capital, social media celebrities idealize and reshape themselves as they wish, securing lucrative advertising deals. These advertisements, in turn, undermine the confidence of their followers, driving more customers to the beauty market.

It is natural to desire and aspire to beauty, but beauty standards have always varied by era, and women have been expected to match them. As pressure on women increases, the beauty industry thrives, often at the cost of women’s comfort and satisfaction with their bodies and appearances.