Rep. Lauren Boebert looked less like a lawmaker and more like someone waking up from a long nap. Or, you know, a botched cosmetic procedure. The Colorado congresswoman dropped an interview with TMZ looking visibly uncomfortable. Her jaw seemed stiff. Her speech uneven.
“I don’t wanna be on camera this week,” she said. And she was right. She’s been on screen more than any other week recently. But this week? Different story.
“The left side hasn’t caught up,” Boebert said. She pointed to her left cheek. Her mouth shifted awkwardly. “I’m talking out of the side of this mouth like a damn politician.” She offered a grimace that was probably unintended. “Maybe in two days it’ll match the other side.”
It’s hard not to wonder: what else feels stiff besides the jawline?
She didn’t just chat about filler. She used the camera time to vent. The target? The House vote on the National Defense Authorization Act. That’s the $1.1 trillion bill for defense spending. Boebert was mad she wasn’t in the room when it went down.
She claimed she would have voted “no.” Her issue? The bill keeps a defense technology exchange with Israel intact. A contentious topic. She waited for a phone call. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth was supposed to call. Something about that specific Israel provision.
“They closed the vote,” she snapped.
So here we are. Forced to talk to TMZ while sitting on an off-the-record beef.
This brings us to the elephant in the room. Or rather, the needle in the face. Boebert wasn’t just complaining about procedure; she was blaming it for her delivery. “Cosmetic dermatology is rising in Washington, D.C.,” a Wall Street Journal headline noted earlier this year. Politicians are under the microscope. Age matters. Appearance matters.
It was “unheard of,” according to the WSJ, for a politician to admit to Botox. Usually, it’s a silent pact. A secret kept between the clinic and the mirror.
“These are luxury treatments,” Dr. Terrence Keaney, a D.C. dermatologist, told the Journal. Not everyone can afford them. But voters come from all backgrounds. Socioeconomic lines blur when you’re trying to look youthful on cable news. That reluctance to admit it? It’s partly because of the cost. Partly because of the stigma. But also, perhaps, because of the awkward after-effects.
Boebert’s awkwardness is now public record. Two days, she says. That’s when her face will “catch up.” Until then, she’s just a politician talking out of the side of her mouth. Literally.
