Soin du visage

n. – facial
Vernissage
n. – private viewing (as in an art opening)
Exposition
n. – exhibition
Not long ago, I was invited to have a facial and an art opening in the same day and I couldn’t help but notice that the words for each, soin du visage and vernissage, sounded familiar.

I am guilty of indulging in a rather expensive face cream and as a client, I was invited to come in and have a facial for the cost of the product. So in other words, I could stock up and get a facial for free. It sounded like a great deal, but it’s never that easy is it.

I arrived and was greeted by a charming woman (with beautiful skin, I might add). She instructed me to lie down and relax, which I did underneath a warm blanket on an equally warm table. I was then cleansed, exfoliated, massaged and slathered in heavenly scented, luxuriously hydrating creams on top of creams. All the while, the woman was telling me how dry my skin was and how many more products in the line I should be using. I mean, didn’t I know that it wasn’t enough to simply cleanse without toning? The hard Paris water filled with “calcaire” or calcium leaves residue on my skin dulling it and destroying its elasticity. I MUST use the toner to remove all traces of the water. Of course I must.

And the eyes, I MUST use the eye cream in addition to the face cream since it’s a more concentrated formula of the miraculous ingredient. And not the less expensive eye cream that they make. That’s good, but not as good as the more expensive one, of course. I MUST exfoliate at least once a week and for good measure, why not use the body cream and hand cream so that I’m assured maximum miraculousness from head to toe. On top of all that, she swore by the lip balm that she applies religiously every night before going to bed.

Last, but not least I absolutely MUST use the miracle of all miracle products, which is the super duper concentration of the original cream itself – not in lieu of, of course, but in addition to.

I started to do the math in my head and I was looking at almost a month’s worth of rent. I tried to shake myself out of my creamy, dreamy state of bliss and return to my senses. I would buy something, but not EVERYTHING, which I did and of course spent more than the minimum required. I justified it by telling myself I had only bought what I really felt necessary – the toner and the exfoliator, which were missing from my regime. I left feeling pretty good about myself. I think I was down right glowing by the time I got to the vernissage. It was in the home of a friend of mine whose roommate was the artist and it was a perfect setting for the work.

Looking at a collection of art can be a bit awkward especially when the artist is there. How long should you stand in front of each piece, what should you say, should you feel obligated to buy something? These were all the thoughts that raced through my over-active mind. On top of all this, I felt so dewy and shiny, I thought the other guests could even admire the reflection of the paintings on my face.

At one point I was actually starting to feel a little greasy so I felt the need to explain that I had just come from a facial. I don’t think anyone there cared. So I then made an awkward attempt to talk about a controversial soccer match that had been played the night before. I’ve found soccer to be a unifying topic of conversation in most cases. It’s of interest to people of almost all walks of life and because my husband is a fan, I’m fairly current with the game.

Artsy intellectual types, however, are probably the one category not interested in soccer. So with my repartee slowly fading and my face feeling like it might just melt, I made my way home after smearing my cheeks across that of my friend as I kissed her goodbye.

Just last week I received another invitation for a facial, but I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. Facial me once, shame on you, facial me twice…