Posts Tagged ‘beauty regimen’
As part of my foray into self-obsession, I fished out the gift card to MSpa that I received in February from the lovely gals at Spark PR and made an appointment for a Purity Facial. The timing was perfect, given that for whatever reason my face exploded into teenagerdom on Wednesday.
So after yoga on Friday morning, I hopped on Miss Violet the Schwinn and cruised over to 2511 S. Dixie Highway, just a few blocks from our house. We received the warmest of welcomes, given that Voilet matches the chic purple decor at MSpa (aka Palm Beach’s Completely Bare in its former life). The front desk in the intimate space faces the glass front door, so I was barely inside before I heard a squeal from owner Michelle Crace: “I LOVE that you rode your bike!” Me too! Except I probably didn’t look very much like a spa-goer in my workout clothes and visor. No matter, Miss Voilet stole the show. Her little basket really is fab.
ANYWAY… As I undressed in the treatment room and wrapped myself in a cocoon of terrycloth and heated blankets, I wondered how, in nearly 10 years of writing about luxury real estate, food and wine, travel, beauty, fashion, architecture and design, have I not become a spa monger? I could get used to this.
Bare in mind this is not my first rodeo. I’ve been slathered in seaweed and grilled with wind chimes from Aspen to Mykonos. But my mind has never been in the right place to receive this peaceful energy. I’ve always twitched my way through, thinking of all the things I could be checking off my list if I weren’t laying around in a towel with some lady rubbing goo all over me.
I doubt I’ll ever be able to shut off my spastic mind, but now that I’ve made time to take care of myself, I like the goo. And I like the lady. Skincare specialist Lisa Ciampa’s soft hands massaged my face, neck and shoulders. She exfoliated, moisturized, extracted. She flashed various shades of age-defying LED light energy in my face while she massaged my feet and soothed my soul. I wasn’t sure flashing lights in my face would make me look younger, but I didn’t care. I drifted further and further into the zen buzz that is my new drug. The woman could have had her hands on my first born if I let it go on much longer…
And get this: The reason my face exploded, Lisa said, was likely due to artificial sweetener. Huh? I don’t like anything sweet, and I certainly don’t add sweetener to anything. But not too long ago, I asked my Facebook friends which green tea to buy, as I was looking to wean myself off the Diet Crack. WELL, nearly a dozen social networking divas replied with resounding support for Arizona’s diet green tea, and I’ve been drinking it like mad ever since. Sure enough, I took a look, and it’s sweetened with Splenda!
Know what else? There was cheese in my forehead! Ok so it wasn’t really cheese, but there were tiny stores of body fat as a result of eating dairy products. Guilty as charged. I may not go out of my way for sweets, but mama loves her Humbolt Fog goat cheese. And Stilton. And Epoisses… And apparently, under a magnifying glass with high beams, it shows!
Oh, and I have to step up my skincare regimen from bar soap and sunblock to some more serious business so I don’t look like an old bag before I hit 30. I brought home some samples of Eminence, a handmade organic skincare line out of Hungary, so we’ll see how that goes. I also made an appointment for microdermabrasion next month to help combat sun damage and reduce pore size.
I almost sound like I know what I’m talking about, don’t I? Yeah! Violet and I are on the high-maintenance super highway, and we’re going to ride it all night long…
One of my New Year’s resolutions for 2009 was to be more high maintenance. No, seriously. Contrary to what my husband might tell you, I’ve never really been a girly girl. I don’t make hair appointments at the proper intervals, or schedule my mani/pedi with enough time for my nails to dry before the big event. Facials? I haven’t had one since 2006.
Every weekend last season as a Palm Beach society reporter for The Palm Beach Post, I was the angry blonde (with mousy brown roots, no doubt) hightailing it to the nearest sale rack to find a dress and the shoes to wear that night, then rushing home to touch up whatever hair and makeup the workday had left me before jamming to The Breakers or Mar-a-Lago. When the first cocktails were served at this year’s Heart Ball, I was still picking out the right shade of red at a cheapie nail salon in the burbs. Yes, that was me sneaking in as the first coarse was served in the Mediterranean Ballroom.
Thankfully, Palm Beach is a massively self-obsessed community, and I can take comfort in the fact that the beautiful people are loathe to notice anyone who remains safely in the middle ground — like this reporter, who doesn’t mind wearing last season’s Carolina Herrera (or trying it on in an outdoor field at a charity shopping event somewhere near Watermill, NY, to get a deal). If your look falls somewhere between diva (Neiman Marcus orders their gowns direct from Milan) and fashion tragedy (the guest of a guest who breaks out the sparkly lavender number she wore at her Godson’s wedding — 20 years ago), you may as well be invisible.
But back to my resolution. I enjoy the pampering, you see, but for as long as I can remember I’ve worked 50 hours a week and overcommitted myself to every worthy cause in the book — and I only got worse with the advent of the smartphone. Health and beauty did not make it into my crowded iCal.
No more! In March, I took a flying leap into the world of self-employment. As a freelance writer, my schedule is my own, and I have time to regroup, to prioritize, and to make up for years of self-abuse. Washing my face with a bar of body soap is going to come back to haunt me in a few years if I don’t make some changes!