The comment that “Women are born not made by men on operating tables,” sticks like a bone in my throat for two reasons.
A) Any good feminist knows that the aphorism is “One is not born a woman, but becomes one” (Simone de Beauvoir – repeated and paraphrased by every theorist worth eir salt since The Second Sex (1949).). Knowing what we know about the “non-binary” nature of biology, it makes no sense whatsoever to assume anything about sex, let alone something as culturally constructed as gender.
B) I know plenty of cisgirls who have been on an operating table or two. And even more who have had an outpatient injection or two, or four. And I will defend, to the death, their identities as aesthetic beings.
Simply because someone was not born with big boobies doesn’t mean that “big boobies” is not part of er identity. I’ve teased an embellished friend or two that, “mine are real.” But the truth of the matter is that theirs are certainly not a figment of anyone’s imagination! While we all know that Nichole Kidman’s forehead and Adriana Lima’s lips don’t naturally look like that, no one can argue that they are, in fact, not real.
This is all to say that if the “femaleness” derisively represented in P!ИK’s video is “acceptable,” yet other body modifications are “unacceptable” and push a sister over an arbitrary line based solely on what we assume we know about genetics, I have to say, “No thanks.”
Have at it if it’s for you. It’s just not for me.
 A word that always reminds me of the Marx Brother and Duck Soup.
 My momma loves Dolly Parton. And I love my momma. For her, I present this quote: “Who cares if I’ve had a few little nips and tucks? God didn’t make plastic surgeons so they could starve!” (Joyful Noise.)
 I mean, Gattaca (1997) is a dystopia, right?