The most misguided mother in Britain? She's a 'Human Barbie' who injects her 16-year-old with Botox... all in the name of love

What modern mother hasn't worried about her daughter's computer habit? When Sarah Burge bemoans the fact that 16-year-old Hannah 'spends hour after hour peering at the screen', it's hard not to sympathise.



So what exactly is Sarah's concern - online perverts? Facebook bullies?



Well, no. She's worried about a different sort of nuisance altogether - Hannah's future wrinkles.



'I look at Hannah when she's on the computer - which she is for hours - and she's frowning. That leads to furrows between the eyes and, eventually, wrinkles.

Misguided? Hannah Burge, 16, (left) with her mother Sarah, the 'Human Barbie', who injects her with Botox in an effort to prevent future wrinkles

'Of course, you can't take computers away from your children, but we can do something about the frowning, can't we?



'That's one of the reasons why, when Hannah asked me if she could try Botox, I said yes. I'm not saying she has wrinkles now, but if we can prevent them in the future, what's the problem?'



What's the problem with giving a 16-year-old Botox? Is the woman serious?



The fact that the question even has to be asked is an indication of how different this 49-year-old is to the women she describes disparagingly as 'other mums'.



Not being like the other mothers at the school gates is something Sarah is proud of. In truth, it's been her raison d'etre for as long as she can remember.

It led her down the route of extreme cosmetic surgery and to a bizarre personal challenge to turn herself into something akin to a Human Barbie.

To date, she holds the record for having had the most procedures carried out on one woman. She has been remodelled from head to toe, at a cost of £500,000, with results that can only be described as eye-catching. Procedures she's had include three facelifts, a brow lift, liposuction and buttock and breast implants.



Fine, if that floats your boat, but her self-confessed obsession with tweaking what nature provided has now become an altogether different proposition.



For, having pretty much exhausted parts of her own body to 'improve', she has moved on to her children. And what a storm this has caused, nationally as well as locally.



When the Mail reported earlier this week that she had allowed her daughter to have Botox at just 15, internet chatrooms went into meltdown as readers clamoured to post their opinions.



Parental consent: Sarah pictured injecting Botox into daughter Hannah, who first had the treatment on holiday in Marbella

The verdict was not good. 'Mad cow' was one of the politer comments. More devastating for Sarah were the suggestions that, as well as a shrink, she could do with the services of a social worker.



'People have called me all sorts of things over the years. A freak, a lunatic. I can deal with those. But calling me a bad mother - saying that I am abusing my daughter, is not on,' she rants, when I meet her to find out how on earth having her ears pinned back aged seven (the start of her surgery 'addiction', she reckons) could have led to this.



'It's not abuse. How can it be a abuse. She is 16 years old!'



Well no. The facts are that Hannah, who is still at school and wants to be a dancer, was 15 when she first had Botox on holiday in Marbella. Sarah's signature, giving consent, was required.



She waves an arm. 'Yeah, that was in Marbella, out of jurisdiction.' Whatever that means.



But morally? Morals don't have jurisdictions.



'How could I have a problem with it? It's what I do myself, and if I didn't help her she could have gone to some quack or voodoo doctor, got the stuff anywhere.



'I was being the responsible one here.'



Perhaps it's not surprising that Sarah genuinely can't see what the fuss is about. A trained therapist herself, she routinely gives herself Botox jabs, pumps her face full of fillers and admits that she has injected Hannah herself.



Just like Mummy? Sarah with her youngest daughter, six-year-old Poppy

'But not with Botox. With an empty needle, just to stimulate the Botox that was already there.'



We embark on something of a science lesson, where she talks at length about how Botox really isn't harmful. 'It's Botox Hannah had, not barbiturates,' she points out. 'It's used to treat medical conditions. People get it on their bunions. It's out of the system within three months. What's the problem?'



Indeed, she's happy that Botox is the only vice Hannah is interested in dabbling in.

'They are doing everything at her age, aren't they? Drugs, sex, wild parties. I've known parents giving their kids marijuana. Now that's abuse.



'If Botox is all I've got to worry about with Hannah, thank goodness.



'A lot of this criticism is just ignorance about the procedure. All this talk of wrinkles is rubbish. Botox doesn't erase wrinkles, it just paralyses the muscles. It's about freshening you up.'



But isn't a teenage face about as 'fresh' as it gets?

'I know a lot of 18-year-olds who look dreadful. They have sun damage already and terrible skin.'



Sarah likes to think she knows a thing or two about teenage girls. She says her 'open' approach to cosmetic surgery has made her popular with her daughter's friends, who are 'obsessed with it'.



'They are, though, and that's not my fault. It's society. They are all on the TV saying they want a boob job for their 16th birthday, and a fast car, and to look like Jordan.



'They want the trappings, to be part of the beautiful people, and they think cosmetic surgery can help them achieve that.' And she sympathises. Sarah herself was stage-school kid, a wannabe star who ended up as a bunny girl and in an abusive relationship.



She likes to think she is famous these days, but her fame has only come about because of her surgery. As she puts it, 'it's a vicious circle'.



'It doesn't always work the way the teenagers think it will, and I've got caught in a trap. I have to have more cosmetic work in order to work, if you know what I mean.



'People forget that I'm a businesswoman, you know. I've made all this myself, from nothing.'



'It's big, fat, ugly women who like to sit in judgement'

All what? She may jet around the world parading on TV shows, but at home she hardly seems happy. I say that the little village where she lives is beautiful. She pulls a face. 'We want to move. I want to live in London. I don't fit in here.'



She says, with glee, that the other mums in the area 'aren't too happy' when their daughters come round to her house.



'Do they honestly think I'm going to force Botox on their daughters? Come on! I listen to their concerns about their looks. I don't know a single one who is happy with how they are. We have a laugh. We end up tap dancing in the kitchen.

'The kids end up saying to me: "I wish my mum was like you." '



Really? The infectious laugh and fruity language may be attractive to a teenager, but does any youngster truly want their mum flashing her pants at complete strangers?

This is what happens when you interview Sarah. When we meet, she is wearing an orange lace see-through dress which barely covers her bum (more of which later) and is designed to show off her florescent pink underwear.



Disturbing enough if you are interviewing a porn star in a Soho nightclub. Downright freaky on a suburban sofa on a Thursday afternoon.



She won't let any of her daughters be present for this interview so it isn't possible to watch her interact with them.

What is clear, though, is that her eternal quest for 'youthful radiance' has dominated all their lives.



Addiction: Sarah holds the record for having had the most plastic surgery procedures carried out on one woman

She has three children, aged 26, 16 and six, who are used to their mother disappearing for a few days and coming back with new cheeks/eyes/tummy.



'Oh, they take no notice now. I come back looking like a walking, bandaged mummy and they say, "Oh hi, Mum." Once, Charlotte said to me: "Why can't you be normal, like the other mummies", but she was only being flippant.



'I said: "Would you love me more, then?" And she said: "Of course not." '



We talk about role models. She thinks she is a 'brilliant one'.



'I am taking care of myself, not letting myself go. I think I'm a better role model than parents who drink or take drugs. All those women who get fat, bitter and depressed. Who would want that?



'I'm the first to say that my surgery has become an addiction. But it makes me happy, and a fun person to be around.

'Can you imagine what I'd be like if I was fat and ugly and never wanted to have sex with my husband? That's the reality for a lot of women.'



Where this all goes woefully awry is when you bring children into that sort of universe.

It is in the nature of little girls to idolise their mothers, and to wish to emulate them. By Sarah's own admission, some of her children's earliest memories will be of their mother with a needle in her hand, or corrosive material on her face.

'When Poppy was a baby, I was bathing her one day and I thought I'd do a chemical peel at the same time,' she tells me.



'I left it on for too long. It was fine, but it could have been disastrous. I just forgot. Ha ha ha.'



She says she's just being honest about these things, where most women aren't.



'I don't hide it, no, of course not. I'll get the needles out and inject myself in front of them, sure, and they'll watch.



'It's like putting lipstick on. Little girls love to watch.



'Poppy, who is six now, knows exactly what I'm doing. She says: "Mummy, are you making your wrinkles go away?"



'But I categorically don't inflict anything on them. Charlotte is 26, but she still hasn't expressed any interest in having anything done.



'If she does, she will come to me and I will guide her in the right direction, but it's not on her agenda right now.



'Hannah has had Botox. She's been on about getting her teeth whitened. But so what? She wants to be a dancer. She's going into a world where appearances are important.'



We talk about her views on things such as nail varnish for toddlers and high heels for babies. She has no problem with any of it.



'You should be happy if your little girl wants nail polish at three. It shows she's creative,' she tells me.



'Surgery's become an addiction - but I'm a great role model'

'I would encourage her. Help her put the eyeshadow on. What about Tom Cruise's precocious little daughter? I think she's brilliant. Those little heels. Lovely. We all dressed up in our mother's clothes didn't we? What's the harm?



'I don't see that by giving my daughter some dermabrasion (a kind of non-surgical beauty procedure), as I did with Hannah, they are going to hurtle down the road into boob jobs and tummy tucks.'



Would that horrify her? She is quiet for a minute. 'I don't know. I just want them to be happy.'



She says that they are a ' completely normal family, not this weird family who are obsessed with cosmetic surgery', and yet there is precious little normality here.



Her husband Tony, a salesman - who she has just been praising as being 'not at all the male model type' - has had his own nips and tucks, notably on his 'horrible turkey gobble neck'.

Still, she seems surprised that people have strong opinions on all this being passed on to the next generation.



'Why do people hate me?' she asks at one point.



'I've had a message from someone saying "I hope you die". That's awful.'



Sarah isn't given to self-analysis. She knows she has a problem with cosmetic surgery, but is also convinced that other women have a problem with jealousy. For someone who pleads not to be judged, she can be vitriolic in dishing it out.

'The majority of those who criticise me are women, and they are bitter people who, given the money and the opportunity, would go out and have something done themselves. The only ones who sit in judgment of me are the big, fat, ugly ones anyway. It's jealousy, pure and simple.'



Role model? Sarah aged 14, before she spent £500,000 on plastic surgery

And her reaction is so telling. Her abhorrence for 'normal' women, who battle with the pounds, and are quite content with quiet village life is the truly shocking thing.



When I ask if it's truly helpful to suggest that your daughters might want to emulate Jordan, she snorts.



'What, would you rather they end up being the sort of woman who works in Tesco, married to a binman? I don't think so.'



You can't fault someone for not wanting to appear outwardly 'mumsy', but Sarah seems determined to reject anything remotely 'boring'.

There's a telling moment during our interview when she reveals - with some pride - that she has never cooked a 'proper' meal in her life. 'I can't do it. I have trouble with the microwave. I can burn things in it. I never, ever cook.'



Her children look well nourished, though. What do they eat?



'Oh, I've always ended up with men who can cook,' she says breezily.



When you have had so much surgery, there are always likely to be running repairs.

Her posterior is currently a sore subject: she had implants in it some years ago. To my untrained eye it looks like a little shelf you might display miniature teacups on, but she seems happy with the pertness.



The only problem is that one buttock tends to 'inflate a bit, every so often'.



'It happens most on aeroplanes,' she explains, hooting with laughter.



'After a flight, one buttock is noticeably larger than the other. It goes down again after a few days, but it's weird nonetheless. I've no idea why that would happen. There is no medical explanation.'



We return to the subject of her daughters. Will they be having anything 'done' soon?



She shakes her head, but repeats that the elder two are old enough to make their own decisions.



And little Poppy? At six she is presumably far, far too young to even be thinking of the surgeon's scalpel?



'Oh she has a little nodule just by her ear,' Sarah says, quite matter-of-factly. 'That will have to come off, of course.'



Is this how it begins? For all their sakes, you hope not.









