When elderly relatives in Greece told a young Tom Parmakellis to become a doctor, he took it to heart. Here, he shares his philosophy on blending old-world Greek values with modern practice, his vision for the future of the aesthetics industry and why human connection is medicine’s greatest tool and teacher.

Why did you choose to become a doctor, and and can you tell us a bit about the journey that led you here?

The seed was planted when I was just 10 years old. My father took us back to Greece for a family visit, and I remember being surrounded by a sea of elderly relatives – warm, welcoming, but many of them struggling with health issues. They’d often say to me, half-joking but entirely sincere, ‘You should become a doctor one day, so you can look after us.’

As a young boy, I was naturally drawn to the older generation. I loved their stories, their wisdom and I found real joy in simply talking with them. The idea that I could one day help them, or people like them, with something as meaningful as their health planted a deep sense of purpose in me.

From that trip onwards, my dad started calling me Iatre (pronounced Yiatre), the Greek word for doctor. It grew into a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy; medicine wasn’t just a career path, it became part of my identity.

From then on, medicine felt like the natural fit. Not because it was glamorous or prestigious, but because it allowed me to combine empathy, problem-solving and service. And in many ways, even now when I’m treating long-time GP patients or helping someone feel more confident through aesthetic medicine, that original motivation still drives me.

Alongside your work in cosmetic medicine, you still care for a group of GP patients. How does that shape your perspective and the way you work?

Both roles are rooted in helping people feel better about themselves, whether that’s improving their physical health or enhancing their confidence and self-image. I’ve found that the listening skills, diagnostic intuition and rapport I developed in general practice have made me a far more thoughtful cosmetic physician. I don’t treat faces – I treat people. That perspective only comes from decades in traditional medicine.

I no longer run a full-time general practice in the traditional sense, but I still see a small, select group of longstanding patients — mostly elderly members of the Greek community who find it difficult to connect with a GP who speaks their language and understands their cultural background. I dedicate one session a week, around four hours, to caring for them. It’s my way of honouring the trust and loyalty they’ve shown me over the years, and it’s a responsibility I take seriously.

Dr Tom Parmakellis and staff at LookFresh, Jannali
Dr Tom Parmakellis and staff at LookFresh, Jannali

You are a true philhellene — how has the connection to your Greek heritage shaped your values and the way you see the world?

It’s true – being Greek isn’t just part of my identity, it’s the foundation of how I live and practise medicine.

Greek culture has always emphasised family, community and respect for elders. From a young age, I was taught to listen to older generations, to value their stories and wisdom. That’s stayed with me. It’s why I still care for my elderly Greek patients — not out of obligation, but out of deep respect.

There’s also a strong sense of filotimo in Greek culture, a word that’s hard to translate but means honour, pride and doing the right thing even when no one is watching. That’s shaped my ethics as a doctor and business owner.

And finally, Greece teaches you to appreciate life’s simple pleasures: good food, good company and time spent well. It reminds me to slow down, to stay grounded and not to get lost in the chaos of modern life.

What are some of the biggest things your patients have taught you over the years?

My patients have taught me more than any textbook ever could. They’ve taught me humility, that no matter how much experience you have, you never know everything. You need to listen carefully, ask the right questions and never assume.

They’ve taught me patience and perspective, especially my elderly Greek patients, who’ve lived through wars, migration and hardship. Their resilience and gratitude have shaped the way I practise medicine and reminded me that health isn’t just physical – it’s emotional, cultural and deeply personal.

In the cosmetic space, patients have taught me that it’s not vanity that brings people through the door: it’s vulnerability. Whether it’s ageing, acne scarring or self- esteem, the best results come when you genuinely understand what someone’s hoping to feel, not just how they want to look.

Above all, they’ve taught me that trust is everything. Once you’ve earned it, you have a responsibility to honour it, with honesty, skill and care.

What I never want to lose sight of is why I started: to help people feel better, not just look better.

What’s helped you stay inspired and successful for so long? What are you most proud of professionally?

After more than three decades in medicine, what’s kept me inspired is simple: seeing the direct, often life-changing impact of my work on real people. Whether it’s restoring confidence through cosmetic treatments or helping elderly patients in my GP clinic who can’t easily navigate the system, that human connection has never lost its meaning.

I’ve stayed successful by constantly adapting. This industry doesn’t stand still – be it advances in aesthetic medicine, regulatory shifts or patient expectations. I’ve embraced education, innovation and, above all, integrity. I’ve built my businesses by doing the right thing for patients, even when it wasn’t the easiest path commercially.

Professionally, I’m proudest of two things:

1. Training and mentoring the next generation of cosmetic injectors through Enesi Academy, with a focus on raising standards and encouraging ethical, evidence- based practice.

  1. Remaining grounded in general practice and still seeing a select group of loyal patients, most of whom I’ve treated for decades. It keeps me real and reminds me why I chose medicine.

The Australian cosmetic injectables industry is under continued scrutiny and pressure for reform. What would be your blueprint for the future of the industry?

The cosmetic injectables industry in Australia has matured rapidly — but the regulatory framework hasn’t kept pace. We now find ourselves in an era where public trust is wavering, not because of the treatments themselves, but because of inconsistent oversight, murky prescribing practices and a patchwork of enforcement that’s left both patients and practitioners exposed.

My blueprint for the future of this industry is built on three core pillars: patient safety, professional accountability and medical integrity.

  1. Restore medical oversight as the non-negotiable foundation.

Every prescription, whether for botulinum toxin or dermal filler, must involve a genuine doctor–patient relationship. That means a real consultation, not a rushed telehealth tick-box exercise.

Prescribers must take full clinical and legal responsibility, including aftercare. Patients deserve to know who is medically responsible for their treatment; it should never be a mystery.

  1. Enforce transparency in clinic operations and advertising.

Too many clinics blur the line between commerce and medicine. If you’re advertising medical treatments, you must clearly identify who is medically responsible.

We need visible credentials, named prescribers – whether they be medical practitioners or nurse practitioners – so that patients know who is ultimately responsible for their care. There needs to be honest disclosures around risks and no trivialising of these cosmetic medical procedures. We need ethical marketing that needs to become the standard, not the exception.

  1. Introduce minimum training standards and real-time accountability.

We need a national framework that mandates formal training, verified clinical experience and ongoing professional development for all cosmetic injectors, whether they are doctors or nurses. CPD points and outdated webinars aren’t enough. And if someone is practising outside their scope or causing harm, regulators must act swiftly and visibly.

At the heart of all this is the patient. When a patient walks into a cosmetic clinic, for a subtle tweak or a full transformation, they are putting their trust in us. That trust must be earned through expertise, transparency and genuine care.

The cosmetic industry in Australia has a bright future, but only if we treat it with the same seriousness, regulation and respect we expect in any branch of medicine.

Dr Tom Parmakellis boating around Paxous islands Greece
Elafonisos island
On a wall on the island of Milos, Firoptamos

Life moves fast. How do you help to slow it down? And what do you never want to lose sight of?

Life does move fast, especially in medicine, where you’re constantly reacting, fixing and solving. To slow it down, I make time for what keeps me grounded:

  • Sitting with my elderly Greek patients chatting about life, learning from their stories, their hardships, their wisdom. Those conversations are like time slowing down, full of perspective and quiet truths.
  • Spending time with my family, being present without the pressure of work.
  • Returning to Greece each year, where life runs at a different rhythm. It’s slower, simpler and deeply connected to tradition.

What I never want to lose sight of is why I started: to help people feel better, not just look better. It’s easy to get caught up in technology, trends or business metrics. But medicine is still about human connection. If I stay focused on that, the rest takes care of itself.

If you had to sum up your approach to life in a single rule or mantra, what would it be?

‘Don’t sweat the small stuff; life is short, and everything that really matters is right in front of you.’

I say that from experience. Hitting rock bottom, personally or professionally, strips away all the noise. It teaches you how fragile life is, and how little control we really have. But it also gives you clarity. You start to appreciate the simple things: health, family, purpose and peace of mind.

At the end of the day, we’re all going to the same place. So why waste time chasing perfection, ego or things that don’t matter? I try to live with humility, gratitude and perspective. I may not always succeed, but I try my best.

Word is you’re a bit of a footy fan – what’s been your favourite win, and what does your dream match-day setup look like?

I’ve been a lifelong supporter of the Canterbury Bankstown Bulldogs, ever since I was six years old. I was drawn in by the blue and white colours (very Greek!), and more importantly, by their captain at the time, George Peponis. He wasn’t just a great player – he was also a medical doctor and a family GP. For a young Greek-Australian kid dreaming of medicine, that made a big impression.

I’ve stuck with the Bulldogs through thick and thin, but my favourite football moment of all time has to be the Steve Gearin grand final try – that iconic moment when he took a high bomb on the wing and scored. It’s still one of the most legendary tries in the game’s history.

As for my dream match-day setup? Easy. Surrounded by family and close mates, with a Greek BBQ on the go, a big-screen TV and the Bulldogs putting on a blinder – ideally against the Roosters. That’s my kind of perfect day.

Athens, Greece

What else brings you joy?

I’ve always had a deep love for the ocean. There’s something about being on the water – the stillness, the freedom, the connection to nature – that resets everything for me. Boating, especially, brings me real peace. Whether I’m out on the open sea or anchored in a quiet bay, it’s one of the few times I can truly switch off, reflect and just enjoy the moment.

It’s where I feel most alive and grounded, away from screens, pressure and noise. Just water, sky and perspective.

Do you have a bucket list? What’s one thing you still want to do?

Absolutely – travel is at the top of it. I’ve been lucky enough to see a fair bit of the world, but there are still so many places I want to experience before life slows me down. Different cultures, landscapes, food, history. These all broaden your thinking and remind you how much there is beyond your own little world.

The goal is simple: see as much of this planet as I can, while I still can. I don’t need luxury – just authenticity, curiosity and enough time to take it all in.

A few of my favourite things

My perfect weekend is…

On the boat with family and friends, swimming, laughing, good food and no phone in sight – just the sea and sunshine.

My favourite place to eat is…

A simple seaside taverna in Greece. Fresh seafood, grilled octopus, a Greek salad and a cold beer. You can’t beat it.

My favourite car is…

The classic Mercedes-Benz SL convertible – timeless, elegant and a reminder of when cars had real character.

My favourite place to travel is…

Greece, always. It’s home for the soul. But I’m also drawn to places with rich culture and coastal beauty like Italy or the south of France.

My favourite way to let off steam is…

Boating. Being on the water clears my head like nothing else.

I reward myself by…

Taking time away to travel, reconnect with nature and enjoy the things that matter: family, food and freedom.

If I had more time I would…

Travel more. There’s still a lot of the world I want to see before I can’t.

I’m most proud of…

Staying true to my values in medicine and life, even when it wasn’t the easy or popular path.

If I weren’t a doctor, I would be…

A Greek songwriter or performer. I’ve always been moved by Greek music, especially artists like Stelios Kazantzidis. His song ‘Yparho’ speaks about life’s simplicity and transience: ‘Life has two doors – I opened one and entered.’ There’s so much truth and beauty in those few words. Greek songs like that aren’t just music; they’re philosophy wrapped in melody.

Music has a way of expressing the human condition in ways even medicine can’t. If I could write or perform music like that, I’d feel I was still healing people, just through a different medium.

Alternatively, I’d be a filmmaker or documentarian, telling real human stories. Or maybe a boat charter guide in the Greek islands…

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