i once wrote under a pseudonym. i won’t go into why but suffice it to say, i wanted to showcase my writing. the name i picked was a hybrid of a tragic character from my favorite shakespeare play and the preeminent hero from english literature. the name was about as different a moniker as you could get from my own, conjuring up images of a redheaded english girl, with rosy cheeks and a spirit to match.
under the name, i wrote several short beauty reviews for new york magazine’s website as well as a number of music and restaurant reviews for the new york press.
for new york magazine, i had the somewhat enviable task of visiting a spa or salon, interviewing the owner and/or manager and enjoying a free service. that may sound fun but sometimes you get what you don’t pay for. at sleek medspa, i received my first laser hair removal treatment and now i am hooked. at panyc, the owner chopped my curly hair into a femmullet, giving me the worst haircut of my adult life (those who remember me from childhood can attest to my afrocious do in junior high school, which was by far the worst haircut i’ve ever had).
my last assignment involved visiting a spa in midtown. when i walked into the space, i was greeted by an ivana trump look-alike who claimed to be a countess. the spa itself resembled a russian souvenir shop and smelled like a vintage store. as i spoke to the proprietress, i took in the photos of republican dignitaries crammed onto every available space. after the short interview, the “countess” offered her signature facial treatment. without warning, she began slathering on creams, 13 in all, unconcerned that some of the product was getting into my eyes. when i complained, she said, “this will be the best facial treatment you will ever receive!” i tried to make the best of the situation even though my eyes were stinging. i also could have done without the decolletage massage, which got a little too personal for my taste.
before i left, she offered me cake and a jar of $500 body scrub. was it an apology for the red, burning eyes and the breast exam? no matter, i was happy to receive it and happy to leave.
that winter, i used the body scrub twice a week. i confess, it’s the best body scrub i have ever used. but was it worth the agony? the irony of the situation was my editor had sent me to the wrong spa. the two spas shared the same name but the one i was supposed to visit was modern and on the other side of town…
