Do you want to know what impress
es me? It’s not a big house or a new car or a high-powered job.
It’s a woman who has the same color nail polish on her fingernails
and toenails.
It may sound superficial, but that tells me she’s a woman who
makes time every week or so for a small indulgence that I have no
doubt she deserves.
Having said that, I have to admit that woman is never, ever me.
My daily skin, hair and makeup routine typically consists of a
washcloth, a ponytail holder and a tube of mascara. In fact, when I
was offered the opportunity to write about the deluxe treatment at
a day spa _ which, of course, meant receiving it _ I initially balked.
“Just give it to another writer,” I said. “I’m not really spa
material.”
The truth is, I feel guilty spending money on myself (and in this
case, I wasn’t even picking up the tab _ my company was). I like to
think price is no object when it comes to my children (of course
that’s not true, but I like to think it), and I try not to miss any
opportunity to spoil my husband. But when it comes to
self-indulgence, the system breaks down. I can talk myself out of
almost any purchase for myself by simply considering the dozens
of things I could buy for the same amount that would benefit other
people in my family.
As for a day at a spa, I couldn’t get over the concept of spending
$300 on a day of beauty treatments. At the end of the day, what
would I have to show for it? I finally accepted the assignment (I
may be a martyr, but I’m not insane), and what I discovered about
pampering, and myself, was completely unexpected.
At 8 o’clock sharp I walked into About Faces in Towson. Located at
one end of at the Shops at Kenilworth, the front of the spa looks
like a retail beauty store. I would soon discover beyond the shop
front was a 15,000-square-foot labyrinth of beauty treatments.
“I’m here for a day of beauty,” I told the receptionist. “I sure hope
it works.”
Linda Heikkinen, the spa hostess, directed me to a changing room
where I swapped my mommy uniform (shorts and a T-shirt) for a
soft, billowy robe and slippers. Next I was taken to the lounge,
where spa patrons can relax in comfy chairs between treatments.
The lights are low, soft music plays and patrons can help
themselves to coffee, tea, cookies and chocolates. Later in the day
a decanter of wine appears.
Because breakfast and lunch were included in my package, Linda
served me a toasted bagel, fresh fruit, juice and coffee, but I was
too restless to eat much. My family was leaving the next day for a
week at the beach, and I couldn’t stop making mental lists of things
to pack.
I was still thinking beach towels and boogie boards when Amanda
Martin came to get me for my Swedish massage. Candles burned and
more soft music played as she kneaded the muscles in my arms,
legs and neck, eventually working her way to a back I knew had
more knots that a Boy Scout jamboree. Before long the packing list
that ran on a loop through my brain started to slow. Finally, with
one deep breath, I surrendered and cleared my mind.

An hour later I reluctantly got off the table and returned to the
lounge for some water. My limbs felt loose and limber, and for the
first time in months, my back didn’t pop when I stretched.
Next was my European facial with Tess Davis, who first examined
my face very closely and asked me about my skin care regimen.
Now, Tess’ skin was so flawless, I’d dare anyone to find a pore on
her face, much less a pimple. I was sure she’d cringe when I
mentioned soap and a washcloth. Not so. In fact, explaining herself
every step of the way, Tess gently exfoliated my skin, toned it to
close the pores, and moisturized it for a healthy glow.
She told me that as skin ages, it slowly loses it’s ability to slough
away dead cells. They build up and cause skin to look dull. She
didn’t try to sell me any products, but instead assembled a few
trial sizes of cleansers and moisturizers. “Give these a try at home
and see if you notice a difference,” she suggested. I could tell by
her expression that my soap and water days were over. (She was
right _ nearly a month after my facial, my skin was still softer and
clearer than it had ever been with soap.)
By 10:30 I was sitting at a manicure table opposite Rosa Lobo, who
has worked at About Faces for 15 years. After so much experience
with hands and feet, I’m sure nothing surprises her. Still, I
suddenly wondered how well I’d dug the caulk out from under my
fingernails the day before when I’d worked on my bathtub. And did I
mention I like to walk barefoot?
Rosa didn’t care. In 15 years she’s seen it all and heard it all, but
don’t expect her to tell it all. Her customers’ secrets are safe with
her. For the next hour and a half, while she exfoliated my hands and
feet, moisturized them and filed the nails into perfect ovals, we
chatted about children, work, books and weight loss. I got a
manicure, a pedicure and a mini therapy session.
When it came time to paint my nails, I decided to let Rosa pick the
color. Now, I’m an earth tone girl. Give me a brown or red any day.
Rosa picked out a pink. A PINK! I hadn’t worn pink polish since
junior high school. It was a cross between cotton candy and Pepto
Bismol called Sweet Tooth _ something I would have never in a
million years chosen for myself _ and you know what? It looked
fabulous.
So off I went, back to the lounge with fingers and toes tipped in
Sweet Tooth. My chicken salad sandwich and diet soda were
waiting, as was a chocolate dipped cookie. Afterward, I had a
moment to stretch out on one of the lounge’s chaises before I was
swept off to have my hair washed and tied up in a towel. Next stop
the makeup counter.
Surrounded by brands like Dermalogica and Darphin, Carla Allred
went to work. This part of the treatment took place in the front of
the spa, close to the mall entrance. Occasionally passing shoppers
paused to check out her handiwork. Over the years I’d frequently
seen women in chairs at makeup counters, but I always felt too
intimidated to request a makeover myself.
“Really?” Carla asked, surprised. “Why would you feel intimidated?
It’s our job to help you find products and colors that make you look
your best. If you don’t know something, I’ll teach you. If you don’t
know how to apply something, I’ll show you.”
I suddenly felt a little silly about all the times I’d rushed past
makeup counters, avoiding eye contact, choosing instead to fumble
blindly in the drug store cosmetic department. Granted, beauty
products at a place like About Faces are more expensive than at the
drugstore, but they come with a real live color consultant as well
as an application lesson if you need it. Plus, how much money had I
wasted in the past when I brought my purchases home and the color
wasn’t what I’d thought it would be?
When Carla finally handed me a mirror, I wasn’t sure what to
expect. On TV makeover shows the woman always looks 10 years
younger, but you can tell she also has more layers of makeup on
than any self-respecting person would ever leave the house
wearing.
I took a deep breath, looked in the mirror and found … me _ only
better. Nothing was caked on and the colors Carla used were subtle
and complementary. They made my eyes look more hazel than
brown, minimized my freckles and gave my lips a splash of color.

To pull my new look together, I next went to Kathleen Roberts for
the final piece of the puzzle _ a haircut. My hair is fairly short to
begin with, but Kathleen reshaped it and cut enough layers that my
elusive curl _ which lately had only been showing itself as frizz on
humid days _ returned with more bounce than ever.
It was 3 p.m. and my $300 spa day had come to an end. So what did I
have to show for it?
Of course, I looked and felt better than when I’d walked in this
morning. But more importantly, I had the pleasure of spending the
day with a team of women who took care of me the way I try to
take care of everybody in my family the other 364 days of the year.
One eased the tension from my body. Others used their expertise to
make my skin glow and teach me makeup beyond mascara. One
encouraged me to try something completely different, and I ended
up with lovely, matching nails. They told me funny stories, they
listened intently when I spoke _ they even fed me and cleaned up
after me.
That’s right, I was “mommied” for an entire day and I loved it. I
can’t remember the last day I spent completely cared for, when I
didn’t need to make a single decision beyond what color nail polish
I wanted (and I even abdicated that choice). It was a complete
disconnect from my everyday life, and that seven-hour break left
me feeling rested, relaxed and feeling exceptionally good about
myself.
Was it worth the $300 price tag? Absolutely! Can I afford to
indulge like this every month or so? Absolutely not. But I also can’t
afford to keep ignoring taking care of myself. What I can afford to
do is break it up into smaller doses _ a manicure here, a pedicure
there, a facial every few months.
I’ve also decided to start charging for my mommy services. (OK, it’s
a rationalization, but you can’t transform a martyr overnight.) I
figure if I charge a dollar a day for everything I do around the
house, that’s more than enough to guarantee that I can finance a
deluxe spa day at least once a year.
I did leave the spa with one tangible item _ a small pink bottle of
Sweet Tooth nail polish. I may not be ready for a standing
appointment at a spa, but at least I can have fingers and toes that
match.