Annie Wang - The People’s Republic of Desire

I recall the Chinese expression that says, "The god of death is easier dealt with than the goblins." For now, I think, I would have to make do, dining with the goblin sitting across from me.

As I try to make idle conversation with Xia's assistant, my cell phone rings. It is Xia.

"Niuniu, I'm so sorry about this," says Xia. "Did my assistant explain to you what happened?"

"Well, she said that something important came up," I say. "I'm sure you are very busy."

"Yes, my son has come down with a fever and his mother is away on holiday. I had to pick him up from kindergarten myself. Can I make it up to you?"

Then I recognize the sound of children playing in the background – unmistakably the sound of a kindergarten at recess. And I realize that things aren't always as they seem: Xia has his own little goblin to deal with.

"Sure," I say. "Don't think twice about it. Call me when your son is well."

I am having dinner with Lisa, who is visiting from the United States and complains to me about the sluggish American economy.

"Times of fortune yield to times of hardship, which later yield to more times of fortune," I say. "Ask any person who has lived through a couple of these cycles and they will tell you that a bear market is nothing to get worked up over."

It is common knowledge that consumption is a key factor in driving economic growth. Consumer demand leads to increases in manufacturing, leads to more jobs, leads to more money to satisfy the demand for more consumer goods. Perhaps not coincidentally, consumption is also the key to an expanding waistline.

By the end of last year, between all the parties I attended and a temporary bout of depression – brought on by the on- screen jilting of one of my favorite prime-time TV drama stars – I added nearly eleven pounds to my slight frame. It took me six weeks of cardio kickboxing and denying myself such comforts as Sichuan noodles and onion pancakes to recover. This year, however, I have vowed to engage in a proactive battle with the yearly trend. I have begun my diet early.

"Do you want dessert?" asks Lisa.

"No, I can't. I'm dieting," I say.

"Dieting?" asks Lisa. "You're crazy! You're so thin! You don't need to diet."

This was a common problem when I lived in the United States. I was always told I was too thin. Any time I complained about my own weight gain, I only offended whomever I was talking to, making them more conscious of their weight problem.

"When I lived in the United States," I say with a frown, "all I wanted was to have sexy curves. I did aerobics. I even ate more ice cream to add something to my figure. I felt so inferior to all the curvaceous women around me. But when I went back home to visit, my family told me I was getting too fat. My grandmother even took me to her acupuncturist. She was afraid I would never find a good husband if I didn't lose the weight."

Weight loss has become big business in Asia, from holistic approaches to weight loss such as massage therapy, acupuncture, and yoga to more traditional methods, including calorie counting and exercise. In recent years, scores of young people have taken up bowling, mountain climbing, tennis, and many other activities, all in the name of staying thin.

"The different standards for beauty in the United States and China make it very frustrating for me," I tell Lisa. "In China, people say I am fat. As soon as I land at San Francisco International Airport, people say I am thin. But I have an idea for making the best of this situation."

"What's that?" asks Lisa.

"I'm thinking of marketing direct flights to the United States as a new instant weight-loss plan."

Amid the uncertainty of the recent accusations against Michael Jackson, one thing is clear: plastic surgery is a spooky business.

But consider the case of my cousin Lingling. Lingling felt that she wasn't attractive. Sure, she was attractive. Sure, the real problem was in her mind, not in her looks. But for 300,000 yuan, she was able to buy herself a cosmetic surgery package that included liposuction on her stomach, back, and rear, double eyelids, and a three-centimeter lengthening of her legs. Thinking ahead, Lingling also invited the Chinese media to record the entire process of her surgery. Shortly after her recovery, she debuted her new goods on the public market to rave reviews. Now she is registered with a top modeling agency in Beijing and getting offers from film producers and book publishers. Lingling no longer has to sleep her way to the top. But if she wants to, she's got the package to do it with.

"Niuniu, you really have to try this," Lingling tells me. "It'll do wonders for you. Look at me, I'm not only a beauty, but a celebrity, too."

"Oh, I don't think I could do something so drastic to my body," I say.

It's Friday night at my place. Lulu, Beibei, and CC have come over for a meal.

"Do you know what my local friends said to me?" says CC. "They said I have a fat ass! Do I have a fat ass?"

"No way. They're so rude," I say.

"Well, do you know that girls in China don't care much about being flat-chested? They are more paranoid about gaining weight. I bet if Jennifer Lopez walked on a Beijing street, she'd be laughed at for her butt," says Beibei.

"The sense of beauty is different between East and West," says Lulu.

I add, "Speaking of beauty, my cousin Lingling had plastic surgery recently. She's very happy with the results."

"Look at Korea," says Lulu. "All those young models getting face-lifts, boob jobs, and cosmetic eye surgery. They' re becoming a nation of plastic beauties."

"That doesn't seem to bother our men," I say. "Those girls are very popular here."

"But it's too much!" says CC. "What if they start giving birth to plastic babies? And what kind of milk comes out of fake boobs, anyway? Vitasoy?"

As young Chinese women find they have more disposable income, they are choosing to have elective surgical procedures in the hopes of attracting a better mate. The old rule of the Big Three still stands as a standard in pursuing the ideal man: a big house, a big physical stature, and a big income. For women, the math isn't so simple.

"We need to have long legs, but small feet; big breasts, but a small bottom; wide eyes, but a small face," Lulu says. "At the end of the day, we have two choices: genetic mutation or plastic surgery!"

Without giving any thought to how my friends might react, I say, "When I dated a white guy in the United States, he said I had a nice little butt. But when I dated a black guy there, he said my butt was small. His roommates always sat around the living room teasing me, saying 'James, whachoo doin' bringin' that skinny-assed girl to our house?' "

The room falls silent for a moment. Mouths are agape. Not because my friends are impressed with my familiarity with African American dialect, but because they had no idea just how much "game" I had back in the States.

Just in time to change the subject, cousin Lingling arrives. I introduce everyone at the table. There is a brief uncomfortable silence before Lulu speaks up.

"Lingling, Niuniu tells us you have found a good surgeon. Do you have his business card?"

The group bursts into a frenzy of questions and fawning. Lingling is the star of the banquet, telling the ladies the story of her recent successes.

Now, is Lingling more successful because she is prettier or because she thinks she is prettier? Maybe her surgery has given her the confidence to strive for new opportunities that she would not have tried before. I don't know – and neither does Lingling. But the important thing is that Lingling expects a 500 percent return on her investment by the end of the year. Chinese girls are clever about money nowadays.