Wednesday, 1 February 2012
This picture is shot at the Ritz spa in Paris, it is how I aspire to look on a spa day, relaxed, happy and relishing all that pampering.
I have never been a good spa goer, I have perservered, but have succeeded in a grand total of two facials and three manicures in my life. I once had a massage but left half way through as the therapist said she could feel me getting tenser as the minutes ticked by. It is the time to think, my mind whirrs and all I can think about is getting out to make a start on whatever plan I have hatched. As for the manicures, the first coat was like torture and the prospect of a second one too much to bear.
And so as part of my new regime of slowing down and savouring life, I have a few spa days booked with friends in order to overcome my bete noir.
I have invested in some suitable attire, namely an orange one piece (I am taking no risks on getting any of this wrong), which was tougher to track down than would be imagined. I found one, it was a size 14, and the size snob in me wanted to send it back, but actually it fits like a glove. These are before and after shots of my fake tanning, there is trickery with the light since it is am and pm, but it does show the tan quite well. I look a little more two weeks in the Caribbean than a weekend in St Tropez.