Tuesday, 21 June 2011

...And then I realised I had a friend

Shall we just for one moment consider this word - friend.
It's a very lovely little word but means so much and when someone calls you a friend (provided you like them) its actually quite touching.
And I have just found myself with another one.

My beauty therapist.
Its not surprising really. One's beauty therapist is a very trusted person, and someone who you quite look forward to seeing. Even if it is just because she will restore that wonderful smoothness to your legs by ripping all the hairs out.
I like seeing my friends, they make me feel calm when I'm stressed, they know lots of things about me and they make me laugh... a lot.
She does the same. Its amazing what secrets you share to a woman you only see every four weeks.

Admittedly there is quite a lot of pain. Honestly, I always tell other people it doesn't hurt ... that's a mini white lie (bang, there goes my trusting trait, sorry friends) It does hurt a little bit - sometimes quite a lot. BUT, if your therapist (your friend) is actually a good therapist (friend) then she will never intentionally inflict pain on you. Unless of course you upset her - which I'm sure is quite like your normal, non-beautician friends.

My BT (Yes, I shall now use this ultra trendy acronym, I hope it isn't also shared with some other adverse meaning) is fantastic. I feel instantly calm when I walk through the little door that goes ping to announce my arrival. And the smell of expensive and luxurious products makes me feel happy. ( I still can't afford these yet, but never mind)  I don't even mind the hot wax. I accept that it's part of the treatment... that's how relaxed I am. Who ever thought it was a good idea?
(I'm guessing maybe it was a bloke. Or an accidental discovery by a prehistoric ape-woman)

I hear all about her life, her little boy and the trivial events of daily life. And she gets to hear me off-load about my job, and tell her all about my adventures of the past couple of weeks.
Today I found out that her Rottweiler is bathed with Tigi/bedhead shampoo. Hilarious. For the record this is a very nice shampoo brand for ... humans. Apparently they make a special dog shampoo too. This very butch (male) pooch is regularly bathed in strawberry scented shampoos. I laughed so much that I forgot I was having hot waxed dripped on my legs.

She also told me, and this I cannot quite believe, in fact I am quite shocked and impressed. This weekend her husband suggested that they go shopping.  Yes, you read this (and I heard it) correctly, HE suggested the shopping trip. She tried on a beautiful pair of cream shoes in John Lewis (who are never knowingly undersold). According to my BT, these shoes were perfect. I do not doubt this, especially when you consider the £150 price tag. She hadn't noticed this lovely tag and removed them from her feet and gave them back to the shop assistant. At which point her husband (who never spends money) said "Go on, I'll treat you".
Another very impressive trait. Lots of brownie points for the BT hubby.

But she point blank refused!!!
Crazy woman.
 Had she been on her own, my BT admitted she probably would have bought them, but she couldn't bring herself to let her husband to purchase them. He even took her to the desk to pay, and she still said no. I'm impressed. I think she's a bit of a wally, but I am impressed. She had her realistic head on that day, and if they had been any other colour but cream they would have gone home with her. But cream shoes are destined for a lifetime spent in their box at the back of the wardrobe with a polaroid to remind you what your box contains. I have a pair - minus the polaroid. (I'll agree that it's a great organisational tool but I don't have a polaroid camera.)

I told her that I thought he was employing some sort of reverse psychology. She nodded and then said "yes, but..." ......Guess what? He offered to buy a Fiorelli bag instead.
I am shocked by this complete ignorance of the male stereotype. Congratulations BT hubby. You deserve an award. Unless of course it was some sort of backward ploy in which case, well done on fooling your missus! She's been telling all her clients about you and now with your collection of brownie points, when you ask hog the remote and watch the sport - then of course she will say yes!

My stomach muscles hurt just as much as my legs did, just from laughing. The only thing that would make my lovely little salon experiences even better would be a cappuccino/ latte or espresso depending on my caffeine need.
Except that in hindsight, coffee, hot wax and laughing lots would probably not be such a great combination.
Perhaps I could drink it out of a flask through a straw.
I'll suggest it to my friend in four weeks time.