It’s a Thursday evening at Stevie Nicks’ oceanside condo in Santa Monica, Los
Angeles, and the talk has turned to Botox, dragons and snakes. She’s only
frightened of one of them.

“Oh my God, it’s getting worse!” the Fleetwood Mac singer exclaims of the
ever-increasing popularity of the cosmetic procedure. Nicks, who is 65,
tried it herself some years ago. Her conclusion?

“Botox makes everybody look like Satan’s children. You’d have to tie me down
to get me to do it again.”

“Now we’re getting used to seeing people with eyebrows that start up here,”
she snorts, jabbing at her hairline, the famous long and still-lustrous
blonde locks flowing.

Nicks turns her gaze away from the Pacific sunset we’ve been enjoying from our
reclining chairs.

“You have an 18-year-old daughter, right?” She raises a finger in my
direction. “You tell your daughter: if she ever even thinks about Botox, you
get me on the phone and I’ll talk to her.”

Nicks is as warm and empathetic in person as her endless hit songs (Dreams,
Rhiannon, Edge of Seventeen) suggest. She is relaxed in black, drapey
lounge-wear and dark, tinted glasses. Continue reading Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks on addiction, Botox and the burying of hatchets | Telegraph →