Dermatologist Fredric Brandt, who had practices in New York City and Miami, died early this morning at age 65 at his home in Coral Gables, Florida. This is a loss for so many of us who loved Dr. Brandt for his kindness, humility, and sense of humor—and a loss for the field to which he devoted his life. "Dr. Brandt was one of the country's leading dermatologists," says Roy Geronemus, a clinical professor of dermatology at New York University Medical Center. "He pioneered the cosmetic use of botulinum toxins and injectable fillers with creative techniques that earned him a national and international following of patients. His artistry and sense of humor, his creativity and compassion will be sorely missed by his friends and thousands of patients."
Brandt was also well known because his clients were. He treated Madonna and Stephanie Seymour, along with many other models, actresses, and socially prominent women. He had many fans at Allure, starting with editor in chief Linda Wells. "I was Fred's patient, his skin-care customer, and one of his many admiring friends. A lot has been written about Fred Brandt as the 'Baron of Botox,' and although that's fun and catchy, it doesn't fairly capture his singular intelligence, his enormous care, and his absolute excellence at his work. He had an immeasurable amount of compassion. Fred Brandt believed in beauty and wanted everyone he touched to experience it for herself."
Brandt was ahead of his time in understanding the danger of the sun, says Diane Berson, a New York City dermatologist. She met him in 1980 in Miami when she was finishing college and he was a resident in dermatology. "I was baking in the sun by the pool, oblivious to the danger, and Fred was there in a hat to protect his fair complexion. He always wore a hat."
Brandt also earned a reputation for testing fillers on his own face, and people remarked upon his appearance, especially when his photo appeared in stories about his famous clientele or his world-class modern art collection. In conversations I had with Brandt, he admitted that he was very hurt by comments about his face. He said he wanted to look younger and fresher. When I spoke to him recently, he was particularly upset about a character in the Netflix comedy The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, a dermatologist widely believed to be a fictionalized version of him. Professionally, Brandt was known for his light touch, and he frequently saw patients who'd had bad experiences with other, overzealous doctors.
Every year, Brandt was a guest lecturer at dozens of international dermatology meetings, and his office in Miami was a major participant in clinical studies testing new cosmetic devices for safety and efficacy. The line of skin-care products that bears his name rates well with experts and has descriptive names that make you smile. Lines No More, a serum to soften frown lines without injections, is apparently the top-selling dermatologist product in the world and number five in the U.S., he told me proudly at our last dinner—sushi, of course—a few weeks ago.
I feel lucky to have had that last dinner with Brandt. He was a hard-working and very busy man. He started every day with yoga and frequently worked late. He commuted every two weeks to Miami, where his beloved dogs lived. A few years ago, I saw him there, at the Fontainebleau hotel. Every other person we passed in the lobby was a patient and greeted him warmly. We sat in the cocktail lounge with the three dogs—he'd called ahead to make sure pets were allowed—and a woman approached and asked if he was the hotel's dog walker. He said yes, before I set her straight. Brandt was also a frustrated lyricist. He could make up lyrics on the spot and often did so when he was injecting to take the sting out the needle. "He sang Broadway show tunes while he worked," Wells remembers. "'Younger Than Springtime' was a favorite."
