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I quit the beauty industry after I saw what it did to teen girls who think they're too ugly to go outside
Radiant and fresh-faced, the girls who sat chatting to me had the flawless complexions that older women try so hard to emulate with expensive fillers.
I was meeting them to research my new book about the modern beauty industry and its impact on young women, Pixel Flesh: How Toxic Beauty Culture Harms Women.
You might imagine that, in their early teens, they were too young to be in the thrall of companies selling wrinkle-smoothers and plumping injections. Sadly, however, the very opposite was true.
These girls had already been brainwashed by a pernicious — and lucrative — modern beauty aesthetic that insists you cannot be truly attractive unless you've had some sort of artificial enhancement.
Mia*, 14, quietly admitted: 'I don't really go outside after school because I don't want people to see my real face any more than they already have to.'
Ellen Atlanta met 14-year-olds who would rather stay inside than show their face before they have cosmetic enhancements
Hannah Jacques, a receptionist from West Yorkshire, spent her teenage years clinging to the hope that having fillers at 18 would magically boost her confidence
Hannah planned her first fillers at just 13. Known as 'tweakments', even teens want to correct their perceived 'flaws' via surgery or injectables
Her seven friends, also 14, agreed that until they were old enough to correct their perceived 'flaws' via surgery or injectables they would rather people saw heavily filtered images of them on social media.
They were so convinced their naturally pretty faces were ugly, they wanted to hide away until cosmetic procedures made them fit to be seen in public.
Hearing this was certainly upsetting — but I wasn't shocked. Until a few years ago, I worked in a marketing and branding job in the beauty industry. I had seen first-hand the irresponsible methods used by some firms to encourage such tragic insecurity among young women before they ruthlessly cashed in.
So cynical did I feel parts of the industry were becoming in their exploitation of young women, that I resigned from my job.
It may sound dystopian, but I believe some beauty companies are effectively inducing an addiction to tweakments through clever marketing and a weaponising of advertisements on Instagram and TikTok, where these young women spend so much of their time.
The result is that whereas once young women longed for the latest handbag, now they are terrified of being ridiculed for having unfashionably natural lips or cheeks.
Once hooked on such tweakments, these girls will go through life believing they need to constantly follow the latest 'face trend' — which is whatever the marketers say it is. Noses that have been given neat little tips thanks to fillers, for example, could rapidly become 'so last year' and tills will ring across the land as girls demand the latest look with little thought of the long-term consequences for their appearance and self-esteem.
And, of course, unlike a new lipstick or mascara, it's expensive — hundreds of pounds for injectables and thousands for surgeries.
I've worked with charities supporting young women who are struggling emotionally, as well as financially, as a result, who tell me they prioritise paying for beauty treatments over eating three meals a day, believing it necessary to secure jobs and even to simply 'be respected as a human being'.
For some girls, any sign of a naturally malleable, moving face is now considered an imperfection.
I spoke to cosmetic surgeons and aesthetics doctors who reported an alarming number of young women asking for injections to remove perfectly natural nasolabial folds — the lines that run from the sides of the lips to the nose — and 'creases' around their eyes.
These teens and 20-somethings say they feel 'old' when they smile or laugh because of the completely natural movement of their skin. Many have been 'unhappy' with these lines since first noticing them, aged just eight or nine.
One researcher into early years education told me of shocking responses she received from young girls aged eight to ten, while writing her PhD thesis on the gender divide in beauty standards.
E very single little girl talked about needing to look 'perfect', 'contoured' or 'chiselled'. They spoke of constantly feeling they were being monitored and watched by imaginary voyeurs. None of the boys said anything like this.
When I spoke to Mia and her friends, I wasn't surprised to hear that many desired nose jobs — in photos taken on phone cameras, noses appear up to 30 per cent wider than in real life.
I was shocked, though, by the very specific 'imperfections' these girls were hyper-focused on.
Ellen found that the teens had learned about their 'imperfections' on social media, where influencers would guide them to cosmetic treatments to 'fix' them
They told me: 'This part of my chin isn't right.' 'This angle of my jawline isn't quite how I want it to be.' 'My buccal fat (the fat between the cheekbones and the jawline) makes me look so ugly'. And 'I hate my hip dips (minor indentations between the hips and thighs).'
They had learned about these 'imperfections' on social media, where influencers would guide them to cosmetic treatments to 'fix' them.
Reputable cosmetic surgeons I spoke to say they try to help young women understand that flesh is designed to concertina — what these girls describe as wrinkles — or dimple or bend because it's flexible and it's certainly not a sign they look old or need 'correcting'.
But there are unscrupulous practitioners out there, happy to take youngsters' money.
W hile it is illegal to administer Botox or fillers to a child under 18, many teens now spend years planning and saving up for their first treatments when they reach the legal age.
Others find black market beauticians who will give them risky procedures without stringent age checks — exposing themselves to dangers including infection and disfigurement.
I'm not proud to admit that, in the past, I unwittingly played a part in our toxic cosmetics culture, helping to build an app on which beauty professionals advertised their services.
The clients, almost all women and girls, could scroll through a carousel of images of nail art, colourful braids and party make-up, then pick the look they liked and book an appointment.
Women can now buy noses, lips, chins and a super-smooth forehead, all achieved by injectable fillers and Botox, and its influencing teenage girls
I had no problem with this kind of thing — it was fun, non-invasive and lifted our customers' spirits. I've always been a girly girl — my mum is a fashion designer and I would cover our family home in Kirby Muxloe, Leicestershire, in glitter and sequins.
I even insisted on going to school in a tutu and pink wellies.
But soon the products we offered began to change. 'Aestheticians' joined our platform — the popularity of tweakments was growing.
Our subscribers could now buy noses, lips, chins and a super-smooth forehead, all achieved by injectable fillers and Botox.
I wanted no part in encouraging anyone — let alone the many teenage users of the app — to freeze and distort their faces.
I knew I had to leave in the middle of one conference with colleagues. As we planned the future of our technology, we were asked to imagine the worst possible scenario.
Colleagues spoke of possible data leaks, the software getting hacked, losing clients' bank details. But I worried aloud that our app's algorithms — which as well as recommending popular or new treatments also followed which beauty treatments you liked then recommended more of the same to encourage you to keep shopping — would have a nefarious effect.
That such sophisticated tracking tools would encourage users to sculpt their faces and bodies, spending hundreds or even thousands in the process.
Then all it would take would be for us to change the algorithm's code and tell it to recommend other treatments, and in a flash these girls' surgically altered features would be out of fashion.
I thought about all the young women I'd met who had their lips inflated, 'recessed' chins injected to create a stronger jawline or rhinoplasty to achieve a smaller nose, and I realised I couldn't be a part of this any more. My colleagues just moved the conversation on but, weeks later, I resigned.
Today, I'm not yet 30, but most of my friends have had Botox in their foreheads or chin filler.
One friend exemplifies my past fears: she's on her third nose job. Having made it slimmer, she then wanted her nostrils made smaller and finally the tip turning up.
Once you start tweaking, there is an endless conveyor belt of treatments on offer and it's all too easy to be seduced into thinking you need a 'nose update'.
Taylor Lyttle, 20, is a keen repeat user of Botox and fillers. She says: 'Even as a young teenager, I was determined to get lip fillers the second I was old enough. I wanted my lips done at 16 but had to wait until my 18th.
'Influencers and celebrities who have these treatments look amazing — and they seem to lead incredible lives, too.
Taylor Lyttle, 20, is a keen repeat user of Botox and fillers, and was determined to get lip fillers as soon as she was old enough
'I can see why it influences younger teenage girls who want to lead that kind of life.'
Taylor, who lives in Belfast and works for a cleaning company, sees this as part of her self-expression: 'I don't think it's a shame that women feel the need to change their looks so dramatically. We can do whatever we like to our own bodies.'
But she admits procedures can be addictive. 'Once you start with injectables and see the difference it makes to your face, it's really hard to give up. I must have spent more than £2,000.
'All my friends do it, too, although I'm proud to say I have the biggest lips. I had fillers a couple of months ago to give me a more defined jaw. I'm thinking of having Botox and getting my cheeks done, too. I'd even like to have bum implants one day, but they're really expensive so I'll have to save up.'
Beauty marketers offer cut-price deals to entice young women to try new treatments.
Another friend of mine, aged 24, had lip filler using a discount code she found on Groupon. It only cost her £35. But while at the clinic, she was persuaded by staff that she should also start 'Baby Botox' — small amounts injected into her forehead and around her eyes — to prevent wrinkles. She ended up spending around £100 and continued having regular treatments until I convinced her to stop a year ago.
I've lost count of the number of women I know for whom lip filler turns out to be a 'gateway drug' to other treatments.
A recent survey, commissioned by cosmetic pharmaceuticals company Teoxane, revealed that over a third of 18 to 25-year-olds plan to have an aesthetic treatment, with 53 per cent citing 'confidence' as the key reason.
One idol of many of these girls is reality TV star Kylie Jenner, younger sister of Kim Kardashian, who started getting lip filler at 17. So many young women and girls I have met aspire to look like her. But I waste no time telling them about the time I met her in 2018, while I was managing the social media promotion for a magazine photoshoot.
Many of these girls is reality TV star Kylie Jenner, younger sister of Kim Kardashian, who started getting lip filler at 17. Pictured in May this year
Having met her on a photoshoot in 2018, Ellen believes that Kylie's body (that to her eyes had been so obviously augmented) had done little for her confidence. Pictured in January this year
Far from projecting an image of empowerment or confidence, she seemed skittish and anxious, literally running for cover when the window blinds accidentally shot up during the shoot, terrified she'd be seen by the photographers waiting outside.
Her body — to my eyes so obviously augmented — clearly had done little for her confidence.
Yet young girls continue to radically change their bodies in an attempt to claim both her looks and her apparent self-belief.
Hannah Jaques, a receptionist from West Yorkshire, spent her teenage years clinging to the hope that having fillers at 18 would magically boost her confidence.
Now 22, she recalls: 'I started planning my first fillers when I was 13, even though I had to wait until I was 18. I got them in my lips, chin and jaw.
'I was so determined to get fillers because of the images I'd seen of beautiful influencers online. It convinced me I was ugly. I limited going out with my friends, I missed parties and days out because I just didn't feel good enough. The body dysmorphia engulfed my life. I held on to hope that the day I was old enough to make changes to how I looked I'd be freed of anxiety.'
But that dream proved predictably illusory. 'Once I'd had fillers I didn't feel an immediate sense of happiness or confidence.
'It doesn't work like that. I still felt insecure so I kept going back to have more and more work done. Lips, jaw, cheek, nose… until I ended up with 'filler blindness' where I simply couldn't see that I'd had too much done.
'I must have spent about £2,000. I've since had some of the filler in my face dissolved and I've had therapy, too.'
But despite professional help the addiction has proved difficult to kick.
'I still get fillers. I can't give them up. Today, though, I know young girls look at me on social media and because I have fillers, I'm now part of the problem.'
- Mia's name has been changed
- Pixel Flesh by Ellen Atlanta is published by Headline, available at all good bookshops.
As told to Helen Carroll