Facials and Feminism
Image from signaturehealthsystems.com
Yesterday I went for my first facial treatment. For the past few months I have been thinking about starting to have them. I have been told that they are supposed to make you look more beautiful. I have also heard that they are painful, which has been the main reason for my hesitation. Plus I’ve never paid much attention to the way I look; I mean, I wash my face every day, mask it and moisturise it now and then, but not much else.
I finally got around to giving it a shot yesterday, reasoning that many people do it, and they survive, so it can’t be that bad. Boy, was I wrong. It effing hurt so much that the ladies had to abandon ship after about a minute. I was in tears and would have jumped off the table had I not been petrified by the sight of the lady peering down at me through a huge magnifying glass equipped with a fluorescent light which glinted off her implements of torture. I was crying from the pain and also from the conflict one feels when one’s body pleads with one’s brain: “Why are you doing this to me? Do you not love me?”