Getting My Girl On

I am, for the most part, a girly-girl. I wear dresses and makeup, and like to have my toe nails painted. But, there are two words that bring out the girly-girl in me like nothing else.

SPA DAY!

Yes, I was off to the spa at the Ritz Carlton for a day of pretty pampering. Translation: facial, body scrub, and hair and makeup. My girly cup runneth over.

Here is my "before." Pretty bare bones (and the lighting in my office is horrible).



After checking in at the spa and making a wish on a candle, I got robed up and had a mini cupcake in the lounge. Champagne? Yes please! I could get used to this.

I love getting facials, but I have to be super careful because of my rosacea, which (knock wood) is under control. I can't do anything involving any kind of microdermabrasion or strong peels. The facialist took my concerns to heart and gave me a pumpkin treatment and some steam. She said it would tingle. Yeah, it burned. Not too bad, but you knew it was on there. Then came the cooling mask. So refreshing! And with the mask comes the scalp massage, and lotion on my hands. Ahhhhh....

After the mask came off, she used light therapy. The red light helps with, obviously, redness. Somewhere here, I must have dozed off, because I snorted myself awake and she was using a blue light. I always doze off during facials. I can't help it. You're laying there in the dark on a cozy heated bed, soothing music is playing, and you have to keep your eyes closed most of the time. It's a recipe for a nap.

I feel so refreshed, and my face is positively glowing. Already feeling prettier.

After a break in a floating chair with (YAY!) more Champagne, and a tasty lunch in the garden, it's time for my Champagne Body Shimmer scrub.

More soothing music and another cozy bed. I'm relaxed already. I get to pick the lights in my treatment room. I went with pink. I told my scrub lady that with all the pink and Champagne sugar, I felt like Jayne Mansfield. Without the boobs.

"Just another Audrey," she said.

Scrub, wrapped like a taco, shower, lotion, wrapped like a taco again. Another scalp massage.... mmmmmm..... doze....

On to makeup. Now, I like to think I'm good at my makeup. I did go to Barbazon, after all. But I'm pretty basic. I usually use one shade of eyeshadow, maybe two if I'm trying to be fancy. The makeup artist at the Ritz... Wow. Lots of shades. Lots of brushes. Eyeliner applied with a brush. Result: the elusive (at least to me) smokey eye.

Hair time. My hair is a disaster. It's fine, dry, treated, curly, frizzy, wavy. It's like Taylor Dayne, circa "Tell it to my Heart." BUT, in the right hands, it blows out quite nicely. Maybe when I grow an arm out of my back and an extra set of eyes, I'll try doing it myself.

So, like I've said, I think I pull myself together pretty well. But apparently it takes a village to put the "Shell" in bombshell.