I Got Chin Lipo to Remove My Double Chin Forever

Courtesy of Gabrielle Langdon / Malia Griggs

“You’re a fantastic candidate for chin lipo,” David Shafer, MD, FACS, told me as he tilted my face in his hand. His assessment made me cringe, but it also gave me hope. After decades of fixating on my chin in every photo and reflective surface, I finally found a way to change it.

I’ve always had a double chin. It looked like my dad’s; he calls it the “ol’ Griggs gobble-gobble.” It didn’t bother me as a kid, but as I aged and increasingly saw myself—on social media, in selfies, and on Zoom—my chin became inescapable. The constant comparison of my jowls with others’ starkly defined jawlines (and the guilt I felt that I didn’t love everything about my body) took over significant portions of my thoughts like some sort of brain-eating amoeba.

In my late 20s I started googling things like “how to get rid of double chin.” The internet suggested carb cutting, repetitive exercises (like chewing gum), facial-sculpting tools, and body-positive journaling. None of the active approaches made a difference because my double chin is genetic; no lifestyle or dietary change could significantly alter it. And though I recorded nightly gratitudes for my health and intellectually understood that nobody cared about my chin besides me, I was still the one living in my head.

I moved into researching more serious measures, starting with noninvasive options like Kybella, an injectable double chin treatment that melts fat. But friends and beauty editors warned me of Kybella’s downsides: pain, puffiness for weeks, and the cost, which adds up once you’ve done multiple sessions. The biggest turnoff? The fat can come back anyway.

This led me to explore chin liposuction. For roughly the same cost as multiple injectable sessions, lipo can remove the fat forever. The procedure takes less than an hour, recovery and pain are minimal, and you’re left with a more contoured profile.

And so, at 34, I booked a consultation for chin liposuction with Dr. Shafer, a double board-certified plastic surgeon at the Shafer Clinic in New York City. Ahead, everything you need to know about chin lipo, including how the procedure works, recovery, potential side effects, cost, and more.

What is chin lipo?

“Chin liposuction is a surgical procedure that removes excess fat from the submental area, which is often referred to as a double chin,” says Jennifer Levine, MD, a double board-certified facial plastic and reconstructive surgeon in New York City. Also known as submental liposuction or double chin surgery, the procedure involves making very small incisions to the chin and behind the ears, inserting a cannula tube about the width of a ballpoint pen’s ink cartridge into those cuts, and using it to suck out the fat under the chin in order to leave behind a more defined jawline. The surgery is similar to neck liposuction, though the latter targets a broader area that includes fat around the neck and jowls as well.

Plastic surgeons I spoke to said that chin lipo is one of the most popular minimally invasive procedures they perform, especially in the years following the pandemic, when many turned to remote work and thus were looking at (and critiquing) themselves on video calls at an unprecedented level.

“The ideal patient [for chin lipo] is someone who has a healthy lifestyle, is healthy weight, and has a stubborn pocket of fat behind their chin that’s fairly localized and that seems to be there from either hereditary reasons or that just presented itself,” says Samuel Lin, MD, FACS, a double board-certified plastic surgeon and associate professor of surgery at Harvard Medical School.

What are the benefits of chin lipo?

While researching ways to combat a double chin, two nonsurgical options repeatedly cropped up: Kybella and CoolSculpting. Kybella is an injectable that gradually dissolves fat, while CoolSculpting uses freezing technology to achieve the same goal. Both typically require at least two treatments. The process of Kybella is often painful and expensive (potentially around $2,000 for each treatment), and leads to extreme swelling that lasts for days. Surgeons say results are unpredictable, and the fat may return.

Chin lipo, on the other hand, provides more immediate, dramatic improvements in your chin and neck contour compared with noninvasive treatments like Kybella. “Lipo offers the advantage of being a one-time procedure with lasting results, assuming the patient’s weight remains stable,” says Dr. Levine. “There is generally more swelling with Kybella than with chin or neck liposuction, and with multiple treatments required, there is often more downtime.”

The entire chin lipo procedure lasts less than an hour, pain is fairly minimal, and—best of all—the excess fat does not come back. “The fat cells are permanently removed during chin liposuction,” says Dr. Levine.

What are the side effects and risks of chin lipo?

The most common side effects of this surgery are swelling, bruising, and temporary numbness in the treated area. Swelling varies because everybody heals at different rates, says Michael Somenek, MD, a double board-certified facial plastic surgeon in Washington, DC, and New York City. Liposuction risks can include post-procedure infection, hematoma (blood clotting), seroma (fluid build-up), nerve damage, scarring, and contour deformities (rippling beneath the skin). You can choose to go under general anesthesia for the procedure, which brings its own set of potential complications, but most people opt for a local anesthetic that numbs without causing you to lose consciousness.

How much does chin lipo cost?

The cost of chin liposuction depends on geography and the specifics of your procedure. The doctors I spoke to (who are mostly in New York City) say the stand-alone plastic surgery costs from $5,000 to $8,000. “You’re paying for the liposuction and for the facility, and if you pair it with anesthesia, that’s going to add to the cost,” says Dr. Somenek.

I received my chin liposuction in exchange for potential coverage of my experience, so I did not pay for anything beyond my transportation and post-surgery needs such as medications. I elected to undergo general anesthesia and, at the advice of Dr. Shafer, added on a skin-tightening procedure called Renuvion. Here is the cost estimate the clinic sent me for my records: Procedure, $6,500; facility fee, $1,200; Renuvion, $500; anesthesia, $750; this totaled $8,950. If I’d skipped the Renuvion and the anesthesia, it would have come to $7,700.

The procedure

After two informational appointments at Dr. Shafer’s office, I decided to move forward with the surgery. I went to my regular doctor to run blood work and receive a physical to confirm that my health was in order (the results were shared with the surgeon’s office). A nurse was assigned to figuratively hold my hand and field my questions about what to expect, and to be on-call during recovery. I also spoke with the anesthesiologist ahead of time. Having both resources eased my nerves going into the day. The evening before, I skipped food and water after midnight, and scrubbed my body with a super-drying medicated soap.

My chin lipo surgery took place on a rainy March morning on the 33rd floor of a midtown Manhattan skyscraper. In an examination room, I changed into a hospital gown and compression socks. Dr. Shafer swung by to mark incision lines along my jaw, and the anesthesiologist popped by to answer any last questions. I gazed at my Sharpie’d face in the mirror, trying to absorb the moment. In the weeks leading up to the day, friends had asked over and over, “Are you excited?!” I worried it was bad luck to say yes, so I sandwiched cautious hope about the results between anxiety and anticipation.

They laid me on a cool table in the operating room. While the doctor and anesthesiologist settled around me, the nurse asked what artist’s radio station I’d want playing as a soundtrack to my surgery. I chose Rihanna, but the anesthesia hit before I heard a single song.

And then, what felt both like seconds and hours later, I regained consciousness back in the exam room. I was all woozy and dreamy, like when I’ve taken laughing gas at the dentist. My friend was there to act as my designated pick-up person. Nothing hurt—I just floated, swaddled in a fuzzy blanket (literally). My head was wrapped several times over in bandages and padding that resembled a hockey helmet, and I couldn’t speak without drooling. (“We should make a TikTok,” I giggled to my friend; “Let’s get you home first,” she said.)

The recovery

The afternoon and evening of surgery day were the worst—and the worst was really not that bad. I was dizzy and nauseous, with a slight headache and sore throat (which cleared up within 24 hours). Prior to the day, I’d called in meds prescribed by the nurse (antibiotics, painkillers like Percocet and Valium, as well as an antinausea drug). I’d also bought stool softeners and a bunch of homeopathic creams and pills like arnica for bruising. And I’d stocked up on high-protein, low-sodium, easy-on-the-jaw foods like chicken soup, yogurt, and bone broth. I was told that recovery was not the time to go on some sort of wild diet, as your body needs the protein to help rebuild tissue and reduce swelling. I mostly slept that first day, propped upright with pillows, in my head wrap, and aided by a single Percocet.

The day after, I took off my bandages before showering to see the results. I was puffy and bruised but could see more definition along my jawline. The pain was manageable with Tylenol during the first two weeks. My chin was very tender and achy, and I continued to wear a compression wrap 100% of the time for a week, 80% for the second week, then during the work day for my third week. This, while unavoidably annoying, was to help with swelling.

I tested three different wraps of different styles and fabrics—they itched, smushed my hair, and cut into my neck. My eventual hack was to stick a cloth handkerchief in between the wrap and my chin to soften the scratchiness. I continued taking Tylenol (and Tylenol PM at night) for the first week and a half and slept leaned against stacked pillows for about three weeks. A couple of times per day for a month, I massaged my neck and chin with cream to break up the lumps of scar tissue left behind.

Figuring out food was a challenge. I was hungry all the time but fussed over what to eat that wouldn’t lead to facial swelling and that would aid my body in healing. I’d cooked bland, meat-heavy soups prior to the surgery, which was helpful, but if I could go back, I’d consider meeting with a nutritionist to pin down a specific meal plan.

I took off three days total from work, including the surgery day. Luckily, I work remotely, and my coworkers didn’t make me turn my camera on. I avoided leaving my house for the first week because of the compression garment but finally broke down about five days in, pulling on a cap and sunglasses like an undercover celeb and going outside for fresh air. It is New York, after all; no one cared.

It takes around six months for your chin to fully settle into its new appearance, but the majority of that healing and contouring happens in the first couple of months. A month after my fat-removal surgery, my face still felt tender to the touch along my jawline, but I was otherwise back to my normal life—sans garment.

Before and after

Now, the good stuff. Here’s me at various angles before the surgery.

This is one month after. Dr. Shafer informed me that he removed about a “soda can’s worth” of fat—a visual that will forever live rent-free in my head.

And here’s me now, six months out.

For the first time, my “chin-security” is gone. Poof! I am so pleased with how natural the results are—subtle enough that most people don’t realize I’ve changed anything. But I know. When I look in the mirror now, I don’t see my chin; I only see myself. A glowy, more confident me.

Most of the time, though, I don’t think about my chin at all.

Malia Griggs is the commerce editor at Glamour.

Experts

• David Shafer, MD, FACS, a double board-certified plastic surgeon at the Shafer Clinic in New York City

• Samuel Lin, MD, FACS, a double board-certified plastic surgeon and associate professor of surgery at Harvard Medical School

• Jennifer Levine, MD, a double board-certified facial plastic and reconstructive surgeon in NYC.

• Michael Somenek, MD, a double board-certified facial plastic surgeon in Washington, DC, and New York City

Originally Appeared on Glamour