Monday, 28 July 2014

Beauty Treatment - Pleasure or Pain?

Imagine this - 11 floors up

I received a voucher for a 'Moisture Boost' for my birthday at a fancy salon whose main attraction for me is that it is on the 11th floor of a tall building with a breath-taking view of Table Mountain on one side and a terrific view of our stormy sea and Robben Island on the other. However, I am not the type that goes often to such places of female indulgence: in fact I usually go once or twice a year, on Mother's Day or my birthday. Don't get me wrong, I don't look a gift-horse in the mouth and I am very grateful for both my daughter and daughter-in-law for my annual spoiling which compels me to go. The thing is, now that I am advanced in years, I don't like exposing my more intimate areas to these pretty, young things who administer the treatments. I can't bear to imagine what they may think. Also, I grew up in a family in which no female was ever known to frequent such places. Perhaps it was an age of austerity: my mother did go perhaps once a month to have her hair 'set' on rollers, but that was all I knew. She never went for a manicure neither did any of my aunts or cousins. I had to prepare myself as best I could. I read that the treatment also included an Indian Head massage (?). So be it: I therefore washed my hair, shaved my legs and underarms, painted my toenails and had a shower before I left the house. There was a slight incident before I arrived which made me worry that I might have sweated. I couldn't find my way into the building: it seems the entrance was actually below street level. (Why weren't there directions on the gift voucher?)  Next I felt obliged to tick off a group of young musicians for their bad manners re entering the elevator.  They barged in when the door opened thus creating a problem for a cleaning crew who were trying to get out with their trolley.The young men looked at me as if I were mentally deficient. I should have saved my breath.  Finally, I arrived, filled in a form, more comprehensive than if I was being admitted for a major operation, and was then escorted to the treatment room/torture chamber. 
Google image
I have to admit the decor was tasteful, the lighting dim, the music non-intrusive and the 'operating table' warmed by an electric blanket beneath the tinfoil. The removal of my clothes was tactful, as were the towels, strategically placed to minimise any embarrassment. As my limbs were vigorously rubbed with what I can only imagine was grinding paste, towels were moved so as to preserve my modesty and I had no complaints. I would not totally say that I 'enjoyed' the experience, but I was able to relax into it. I must say, the cream applied was very effective:  I couldn't  get it off in the shower the next day.


  1. I've had these treatments a couple of times in my lifetime and I always enjoyed them too. Some of it was painful, but not to a point I couldn't stand it. But it is nice to be pampered and nice of your daughter and daughter in law to think of you.

  2. I love those pampering treatments, but, yes, I wait to get one for a gift.

  3. I occasionally go for a massage and I haven't ever thought what the technicians might think of my lumps, bumps and wrinkles. Though I do ensure I've shaved, showered, and freshened up.

    Your comment "There was a slight incident before I arrived which made me worry that I might have sweated." made me howl with laughter!

  4. Hmmm! What to say? I have never been to such an establishment, nor has my wife.

    1. So that means you have no opinion?? Can't believe it of you, Sextant. However, this was meant to be a 'girlie' post.

    2. It is disappointing is it not? I can't wax poetic and make an ass of myself as usual.

      Did they put cucumbers on your eyes?