Farm-fresh facials to leave you like a spring chicken!
T HERE ARE two tribes in beautyland. One one side, the organic, knity our own cleanser, carb free, no sulphate, parabenphobic, florafauna naturalists; on the other the testtube, doubleblindtrials science freaks.
Both are assiduously pursuing the contents of our pockets. And both have their sales pitches.
The nature brigade are less about proven results and more about the experience. They talk about ‘harnessing the ageold powers of flowers’, and other such hokum. The men in the white coats, meanwhile, are resultsdriven. They love diagrams and graphs; nothing thrills them like an electron-microscope picture of the dermis.
This rivalry extends not only to products, especially in the lucrative antiageing market, but also to treatments. In particular, facials.
These days, it just won’t do to pop a few blackheads and plonk on a facemask. There has to be a USP. Some use acupuncture, others pressurepoint massage. There’s microdermabrasion, light t herapy, heat t herapy, cold therapy, facial psychotherapy. Ok, I made that last one up. But it’s probably only a matter of time.
One particularly curious strand is the farmyard facial. We may be over the fish pedicure, but it’s fast being replaced by a veritable menagerie. Literally.
UNDISPUTED
Queen of the beesting facial is Deborah Mitchell, facialist to none other than the Duchess of Cornwall (and possibly Cambridge too).
Now Camilla may be a finelooking woman, but she is no spring chicken. And yet she does have remarkably good skin for a woman of her age, especially since she’s a big fan of the outdoor lifestyle.
Much has been written about the alleged Botoxlike effects of bee venom. Being in my line of work, I’ve tried both, and I can categorically say that, while products containing bee venom definitely condition the skin, making it brighter, tighter and more toned, they can’t compete with Botox in terms of longevity and clinical effectiveness.
That said, not everyone wants or can afford Botox. And if what you crave is genuine skin expertise, a wonderful soothing, relaxing experience and an amazing pickmeup, then Mitchell’s your woman. Of all the facials I’ve ever had, it sits easily in the top ten, a unique combination of handson knowledge and top quality products.
Many facials that offer eyecatching ingredients skimp on the allimportant feelgood factor. Not so Mitchell, whose intuition and capacity for empathy borders on the spooky. She’s a giver, is Mitchell, and you can sense it from the minute you meet her. To be honest, she could have been rubbing Vaseline in my face and I still would have left with an inane grin on my face. I would recommend having the course, if you can afford it.
Not so the sheep’s placenta facial which is available at Beyond MediSpa, in London’s Harvey Nichols. I was expecting this to be quite special; in fact it’s a rather ordinary facial with a bit of sanitised sheep’s placenta serum added at the end. It was fine as these things go ( microdermabrasion, light therapy), but a disappointing experience overall (although the therapist was extremely nice).
Unlike the beevenom facial, it produced no real improvement to my skin — and certainly not £185 worth. Apparently Victoria Beckham swears by it, which translated from PR s peak probably means she tried it once and quite liked it.
Bee-sting facial (heavenskincare.com) £55, or £250 for a course of five.
sheeP’s placenta facial (beyondmedispa.com) £185.