The trend involves eating tinned sardines in the hope of achieving glowing, wrinkle-free skin as an alternative to cosmetic injections. Many believe that, because of the omega-3 fatty acids, protein and antioxidants, the small fish can be the golden ticket for those wanting to defy ageing.
Victoria’s Secret model Anok Yai is among those credited with bringing the tiny fish back into vogue, swearing it’s her secret to glowing skin, so one might question just how easily its impact can be transferred to those of us who are also adding a 3-in-1 body wash to our cart. But question it we have not.
Dermatologists and doctors have debunked the trend and clarified that, despite sardines being a health superfood packed with nutrition, they cannot, unlike Botox, freeze facial muscles or erase wrinkles.
But it continued to explode online as social media users scoffed down the fish right out of their little tin coffins, and supermarkets across Aotearoa began selling out amid existing supply issues.
“Although sales have jumped by 53% in the past 12 months, a global shortage of sardines has meant suppliers have been unable to keep up with that growth. From time to time, customers may find sardines missing from the shelf at their local store,” a Woolworths spokesperson told the Herald.
Always a panic buyer and never one to let facts or doctors get in the way of delusion, this non-fussy eater decided to give sardine Botox a go. What could possibly go wrong?
With not a moment to lose in the fight against ageing, I raced to my supermarket, ripping open the can the moment I got home, spring water sploshed onto the benchtop.
I made the sardines a comfy bed on a toasted piece of Vogel’s before smashing their decapitated bodies onto it with the back of a fork. Salt and pepper rained down on them like confetti, and I licked my lips in anticipation of the skin celebration I was about to partake in.
Sardines are best served on toast, or in bin. Photo / 123rf
Taking an enormous bite, I was hit with what the social media folk refer to as “instant karma” as my brain told me I was eating cat food, and my taste buds agreed. I tried to swallow, but my throat protested, pushing the crushed creatures back to the front of my mouth. My tongue involuntarily flicked them out with such force that it had me questioning if they were still alive.
Landing in the InSinkErator, I spotted my partner across the room as my eyes began to burn and tears formed. “Maybe I just got a bad batch?” I declared in a voice filled with fallacy.
Determined, I tried again the next day, this time buying three varieties of flavoured sardines: tomato sauce, Louisiana hot sauce, and one absolutely dripping in olive oil.
But these were ghastly too. The tang of tomato ejected them quicker, the hot sauce just added a burn, and the last time a fish was covered in that much inedible oil was the BP oil spill.
I wasn’t about to lose to dolphin food, so I squeezed my nose, chewed as fast as I could and pushed them down, using my tongue as a door should they try to escape.
“I did it!” I exclaimed as my stomach grumbled, perhaps questioning why I was making it digest something better suited to a cartoon moggy.
“How much more to go?” I asked ChatGPT, prompting it to calculate the volume of sardines I would need to consume to reap any skin-glowing benefits.
“One tin three times a week is optimal,” it replied, and despite being known to torture myself in the name of health and wellbeing – here’s looking at you, Shakti Mat – I simply couldn’t stomach the thought.
I queried ChatGPT again, asking if there were better alternatives, and the results were as clear as my skin was about to be: “salmon”. The pink fish was a very close match in terms of the benefits, but with the added bonus that it was edible, even in its more greyish canned form.
So while I cannot speak to the long-term benefits of the sardine Botox trend, as my attempt was a mere bite, I can confirm there are alternatives that are less revolting and similarly priced.
If it’s a cost saving on Botox you are after, those three cans you’ll need per week are $3 per can; that’s $9 per week or $468 per year. You could get a year’s worth of face creams and an Etsy witch to grant you a youth spell for that price, or the literal Botox you are trying to emulate.
No matter which option you consider, they are all easier to stomach than sardines and far less punishing than being a “sardine-maxxer”.