The Tamesis
I’m probably a beautician’s worst nightmare. Not because of superficial things—barring some acne, I’m relatively lucky in the skin department—but because of the Rube Goldberg machine that runs inside my head.
My whole life I have been told that my skin is sensitive. The clues were there: I had a freckled face and a fair, nearly transparent complexion that was prone to sunburn and redness. As a result, I’ve long been hesitant to do too much to my face, which turned me into a skincare Luddite.
For example, I’ve been using the same drugstore face cleanser since I was a teenager (Neutrogena Deep Cleansing, in case you were wondering). Burnt (literally) from too many overnight masks, I now patch test every potential new product on my wrist. I don’t moisturize enough, and when I do, it’s usually my mom’s signature blue jar of Nivea cream for me. I may be in my 20s, but I don’t know anything about retinol anymore. I wear light makeup and follow the rules my mom taught me: wear sunscreen, wash my face, and try not to touch my face throughout the day. Beyond that, for years, my approach to skin care was basically praying and hoping for the best.
So when I joined Fashion Late last year, I confessed to my new colleagues on the beauty team: I had never had a facial before. So the idea was born, first as a joke and then as a reality: I would give it a try and write about the experience (a sweet task indeed).
Following recommendations from friends and beauty editors, I contacted Rescue Spa in downtown New York, and their team scheduled me for the Danucera Sculpt & Lift Facial, which combines a five-step procedure with “patented nano, micro, and dermal galvanic technologies.” I imagined green clay on my face and cucumber slices on my eyelids, but I was told that the reality might not be a movie montage but a war on pores.
I chose a no-extraction facial for the first time. For the uninitiated, tooth extractions are basically a common part of a facial, where the therapist removes dirt from clogged pores, either manually or with tools. Even as a skin care newbie, I’ve heard stories of tooth extractions that give new meaning to the old adage “beauty is pain.” I figured I’d wade into the water first.
Before the appointment, I was both nervous and excited. I have questions: what do you do wear Facial? (I learned that this doesn’t really matter; you’ll probably take off your shirt and put on a towel so that your face and shoulders are exposed. This half-nudity is a bit surprising, but ultimately the best part is comfort and a nice mini shoulder massage). Can I wear contact lenses? (Not recommended, apparently because cleansers, creams, and oils have the potential to stick to the lenses, and steam and water can become trapped there, leading to potential infection.)
At a party the night before, I asked my friends for advice. They said to hydrate, so I switched from wine to water. They say it’s normal for your face to turn red later. They said I should take them with me next time.
When the time came, I felt like I’d found a charming secret hideaway amid the chaos of Union Square, a chic CO Bigelow-esque drugstore boutique slash spa, when I walked into the trendy Ground Floor Spa on East 19th Street. They offered me a drink and took me back to the treatment room where I was asked about my allergies and medications by the very kind and patient esthetician and I regaled her with a speech about my sensitive skin.
