The Golden Years: two necessary beauty treatments to stave off the march of time

It has escaped no one’s notice that I, like almost everyone else on the planet (Illuminati overlords excepted) is getting older, having just celebrated my 34th birthday with friends and family at the jolly good value and super friendly “speakeasy” downstairs at The Victoria, near Mile End.

In order to assuage my somewhat mixed feeling about this milestone, I decided that botox could be put on ice for another year, (much like my future face) and instead, opted to treat myself to a full head of highlights, to conceal the growing crop of silver that is starting to thread its way through my winter mouse – as well as the rather less glam task of seeing to the gathering face fuzz that is beginning to  appear more like thistle than down, through a course of electrolysis. Yes, it has come to this.

I rarely blog about beauty – my skin’s too sensitive to be bombarded with an array of product, whether I get them free off a PR or not,  and I long ago resigned myself to looking, well, the way I do, which most of the time, give or take the odd blemish, wardrobe malfunction or bad hair day, is perfectly acceptable. And I’m even pretty cool with getting older, having got the stretch marks out of the way early with the realisation that I’m more likely to be treated like just another human being as an older woman than a target/threat which often got in the way of relations as a younger, which is a fairly ok with me. So anyway, all that is to say, I’ve not been incentivised to write this stuff in any way shape or form, although I would gladly take a future discount, if any of the business I highlight feel so inclined, on the basis of this blog.

I got the unpleasantness out the way first, allowing a couple of weeks between treatment and party to account for any fallout from the procedure. There was: a couple of crusty blemishes, and of course, the horrible day before where you have to allow for things to get long enough to be pulled out with tweezers, which meant a week without my facial buffer prior to the treatment.

I went to La Clinca Fiore on Endell Street, near Covent Garden, and where I used to work. I don’t know whether it is the cheapest – (I very much doubt it) but it was central, and I was impressed at how clinic like it actually was: bright, clean, complete with adverts for subtle lifts and tucks you could have if you have the will and the means. I am not without vanity, but the staff’s subtly tweaked faces did little to recommend me to anything more drastic, but other than their frozen smiles, they were the very height of professionalism and the lovely Polish (?) blonde who looked after me immediately put me at my ease, despite the intimacy of the procedure – and the pain – being akin to childbirth. Not in the sense of groaning aches, but nonetheless, eye watering, as in red hot needle pain, which it pretty much is. Because I’m hardcore, I managed an hour of this torture, for which I parted with an also slightly eye watering £65, with the lovely clinician exclaiming every time she pulled out a hair in the right stage of its growth cycle.

Yes, the downside to this this treatment is, while it is permanent and  unlike laser,”gets” the blonde ones, you have to “get” the hair at the right time, which means several sessions, probably at yearly intervals, if my dear grandmother’s whiskery face as she neared her deathbed, is anything to go by. But there is hope. Lovely clinician recommended EMVA cream – a large tube, to be plastered on my beard half an hour before approaching the needle, which given how long I am prepared to stomach this torture in pursuit of a fluff-free complexion, may be a wise move. Anyway, I booked a second appointment two weeks later, and given how attached I am to my sandpaper-like fluff remover, I’ve hardly had it out of its sheathe all week. I will update as to weather the numbing benefits of Emva cream live up to their promise.

Staying central, yet waiting until the day of the do to get my hair done, I went to Natural Colour Works, formerly Jigami, to get ma hair did, located in a fairly inaccessible part of Soho, which despite having been there several times before, I managed to get hopelessly lost in this constantly shapeshifting part of London, with scaffolding obscuring street names and relentless gentification (and hopeless map skills) conspiring to make me 15 minutes late for my appointment. Arriving flustered, the staff there, who have all, as far as i can tell, been there for donkeys years, were completely nonplussed, ushering me into my seat with tea and magazines, for what was a rather long haul appointment.

Natural Colour Works offer seaweed highlights, which I’ve previously had to keep myself fair during my pregnancy hippyish phase –  when I was rather more flash with the cash than afterwards. Seaweed highlights promise all the colour with less damage and fewer chemicals, and certainly, you get neither the ammonia smell, nor the burning sensation as the foils begin to work their magic. The only downside is they take a bit longer to develop, so you have several trips to the basin to wash off sections of colour.

I had the lovely Sara, who I’ve known for years, although it’s the first time I’ve returned practically since Ava was born, mainly due to finances – a full head set me back a full £166 – but also time – I rarely have half a day to squander on my hair. She deftly cut and blow dried my tresses,  adding a mass of waves that no other hairdresser has ever achieved in my poker straight locks, so full credit to her.

Everyone told me how lovely I looked at the do, which was attended by my mother, ex-boyfriends, ex-work colleagues and close friends (the ones worth having showed up. Balls to the rest of you) and which carried on till five, by which time I took my still beautifully coiffed locks to bed and woke up looking as though I’d run through a hedge.

As a coda to this, I eeked out my blowdry for five days with dry shampoo, but decided by Monday that the colour was a little too gingery – perhaps because of a tint I’d be using to keep my roots at bay. I called up Natural Colour Works, who immediately booked me in for a toner, but having washed my hair, the colour seems to have settled, but again, full credit to them for their no quibble approach.

Now, if you go, please let them know Reprobate Mum sent you, and you (and I) will get 20 percent recommendation discount on a treatment! Coz, while it’s good, it is also a little steep… Even though, one of the definite benefits of getting older is having a higher disposable income.

Good reasons to go natural: http://mosaicscience.com/story/hair-dye